Marked Twice by the Alpha King Chapter 57

**Blake's POV**

"You really gonna go through with this?" Tyler leaned against the window in my study, eyebrows raised. "Shadow Creek's gonna have a field day with this one."

I dropped my pen on the desk and drummed my fingers against the wood. The paper I'd just signed was nothing short of a bomb—ordering Carter's case reopened and delaying William's execution. Once I slapped my seal on it, nobody could argue.

"Let them talk," I shot Tyler a look. "This case has more holes than a target dummy after training day."

"The whole thing stinks," he nodded, "but William had his hands in it somehow. Guy's no angel."

I pushed back from the desk and wandered to the window. Down in the training yard, Lucas was working with Ava. She was behind him, guiding his arms into some defensive move, her face a mask of concentration. Something about watching them sent a weird ache through my chest.

Tyler shifted, watching me watch them. "This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain combat instructor, would it?"

I turned my back on the window, dodging that landmine. "Get this to Shadow Creek's Elders ASAP, then make sure Rivers knows. Tell them I'm showing up tomorrow to hash this out myself."

Tyler scooped up the paper with a smirk that said he knew exactly what I wasn't saying. "Whatever you say, boss."

After he ducked out, my eyes drifted back to the window. Lucas nailed the move Ava had been teaching him, and she clapped him on the shoulder. The kid lit up like a firecracker—hadn't seen him smile like that in forever.

I'd never say it out loud, but that whole school stunt the other day... it did something to me. Since Elizabeth died, this place has been like a clock with missing gears. Functional, but lifeless.

Then Ava crashed into our world, and somehow the damn thing started ticking again.

Shadow Creek's council hall looked like it belonged in another century—all rough wooden beams and stern-faced Alpha portraits judging you from every wall. When I walked in, the room went quiet, the elders' faces ranging from fake smiles to guys who looked ready to chew nails.

"Alpha King," Elder Michaels practically spat my title, "mind telling us why you're sticking your nose in Shadow Creek business?"

I dropped the document on the table between us, keeping my voice level. "This isn't me butting in. This is me doing my job. Rivers' death sentence is built on evidence that wouldn't convince a pup, let alone justify killing a wolf."

"We caught him red-handed," another elder shot back, face flushing. "Literally—the guy was covered in Carter's blood at the scene!"

"Yeah, and that's the problem," I cut in, locking eyes with him. "The blood spray doesn't match an attacker. It matches someone who tried to help. And someone else was there—someone you all conveniently forgot to mention in your reports."

The room erupted in angry whispers. I took my time looking at each face, lingering on Jackson in the corner, playing it cool like this was just another Tuesday.

"Alpha King," Council Chairman Drake pushed to his feet, the only elder with enough balls to speak directly. "With all due respect, we handle our own dirty laundry. William broke pack law—"

"Pack law isn't worth spit if it's not fair," I cut him off. "That's what being Alpha King means—making sure we don't start killing wolves because it's convenient."

The room went dead silent. I could practically hear them grinding their teeth. Nobody had the guts to challenge me openly, but this wasn't exactly winning me any fans.

"So where's this supposed evidence?" Jackson piped up suddenly, drawing every eye in the room. "All I'm hearing is theories. Where's the beef?"

Smooth move—making himself look like the rational one while painting me as some crusader with an agenda.

"Funny you should ask." I pulled out what Tyler dug up last night—a small silver container scratched all to hell with pack symbols. When I cracked it open, the metallic tang of old blood hit the air.

"This was buried half a mile from where Carter died," I said, tilting it so they could peek inside. "Got two different sets of claw marks on it, and neither matches William."

I ran my thumb over the gouges, giving them all a good look. "This has Shadow Creek written all over it—but it's not your garden-variety potion. It's the souped-up version made for Alphas. Gives you a hell of a power boost, but turns your brain to mush—makes you fly off the handle at nothing."

The room temperature seemed to drop ten degrees as the elders started trading looks.

"Someone slipped this to Carter, then used his rage episode to set the whole thing up," I continued. "William wasn't the killer—he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The blood spray shows he was trying to stop it, not make it happen."

"It's not a smoking gun pointing at our killer, but it blows a hole in your death sentence," I pressed on. "William was just some poor bastard who saw something he shouldn't have."

"Made him the perfect fall guy," I added. "The evidence says he got a raw deal."

Chairman Drake turned the container over in his hands, his tough-guy act cracking around the edges. "This complicates things," he admitted, frowning. "But William still kept his mouth shut and got mixed up in this mess."

"Not saying he's walking away clean," I conceded. "But you don't put a wolf down unless you're damn sure. Keep him locked up while we dig deeper, but take execution off the table."

The elders huddled up with their eyes, having one of those silent conversations where nobody wants to be the first to back down. Finally, Drake cracked.

"In light of what Alpha King's brought to the table," he forced the words out like they hurt, "we'll hold off on William's execution. He stays locked up until we get to the bottom of this."

"My team's joining the investigation," I added, making it crystal clear this wasn't up for debate. "And fix his cell situation—lose the silver restraints and get him some basic care. Guy looks like death warmed over."

Drake's face went sour, but he gave a stiff nod. "Consider it done."

As everything wrapped up, Jackson glided over like we were old buddies. "Alpha King," his voice smooth as butter, "you've got my complete backing on reopening this case. Finding the truth matters above all else, wherever it leads."

His face was the picture of sincerity, but his eyes were dead as stones. Behind that perfect mask, wheels were turning.

"Truth's a funny thing, Jackson," I said, watching him closely. "Tends to hide in the places people don't want you looking."

His smile never faltered—picture perfect. "Couldn't agree more. Justice is all any of us want."

Outside, Tyler fell in step beside me, voice low: "That was one hell of an act he put on."

"Yeah," I muttered, eyes forward. "When someone tries that hard to look clean, you can bet they're dirty somewhere. Keep digging—and watch our backs."