Marked Twice by the Alpha King Chapter 75

**Ava's POV**

I froze at Sophia's bedroom door. Not because of the fancy digs—after weeks at Blackwood, I'd gotten used to the stupid-expensive everything. It was because she was Jackson's fiancée, and hanging out with her felt like stepping into quicksand.

Sophia glanced up from her closet, sunlight catching her blonde hair.

"Dad give you the third degree?" she asked, eyeing my stiff shoulders.

I straightened up. Blake's warning still rang in my ears—"tread carefully with Sophia's situation." Like I was some criminal mastermind instead of a glorified babysitter with a knife collection.

"Nah, just Lucas stuff," I lied through my teeth.

Sophia's mouth quirked, clearly not buying it, but she let it slide. She turned back to her closet, holding clothes against me.

"This one's you," she decided, tossing me a silver-gray top and dark pants. "Let's bust out of here like normal girls for once."

I caught the clothes. My stomach knotted thinking about Jackson. My feelings for him had curdled into something bitter, but seeing Sophia still made me feel like crap. She was so damn genuine while being completely clueless her soon-to-be hubby was my ex.

I ducked into her bathroom to change. The top hugged tight—Sophia was built like a dancer while I had more of a "could-snap-your-neck-with-these-biceps" thing going on. I yanked my hair free, splashed water on my face, and raided Sophia's perfume to cover up my "just threw fifty punches" smell.

When I came out, Sophia sat by the window, sunlight outlining her. She smiled—that open, no-ulterior-motives smile that doubled my guilt. She had zero clue her fiancé was obsessed with controlling me instead of loving her.

"Damn, that looks good on you," she nodded. "Makes your eyes pop."

"Thanks," I mumbled, thrown by the compliment. Why was she being so nice?

"Just toss your stuff in there," she pointed at a basket. "Staff will handle it."

I hesitated, not used to others doing my laundry, but dropped my gear in the basket.

"C'mon," she looped her arm through mine like we'd been besties for years, "before Dad locks me in a tower or something."

In the main hall, Blake and Tyler stood by the entrance. Blake turned, his storm-gray eyes scanning us like security cameras. His jaw tightened. I automatically stepped back.

"What now?" Sophia sighed, crossing her arms.

"Tyler's driving you," Blake stated, his tone leaving zero room for debate.

Sophia rolled her eyes. "I was gonna take my horse. I'm twenty-four, not twelve."

"Not happening," Blake's eyes flashed gold—Alpha temper rising to the surface.

I felt his power ripple through the air and kept my mouth shut, not eager to get caught between Alpha dad and frustrated daughter.

"Whatever," Sophia huffed, surrendering to her father's Alpha mojo. She turned to Tyler, "Ready?"

Tyler nodded. "All set."

I risked glancing at Blake. His face could've been carved from ice, eyes calculating as they locked on mine. It threw me back to day one in his office—being sized up like a threat rather than a person.

I spun away, following Sophia who was already storming toward the door. Hated that I still cared what he thought. He was just the guy signing my checks, right?

Outside, a Silverpeak-crested carriage waited. I'd ridden in these before—usually for prison visits or Blake's missions. Weird how different it felt this time.

Following Sophia inside, my brain kept spinning: Was this a terrible idea? Would Jackson flip if he found out I was alone with his fiancée? Then again, Sophia had always been decent to me, never treating me like Shadow Creek trash. Saying no felt like kicking a puppy, especially with how excited she seemed about tonight.

The carriage lurched forward, dragging me toward whatever mess waited ahead, my thoughts ping-ponging between loyalty, friendship, and secrets I wasn't sure I could keep.

I sat by the window with Sophia across from me, while Tyler drove up front behind a carved divider.

"Tyler, privacy please?" Sophia's voice was sweet but had steel underneath.

Tyler hit a button that raised the wooden partition. Once sealed off, Sophia's shoulders dropped like she'd ditched a heavy backpack.

We rode in silence, passing through Silverpeak territory with its fancy houses and patrolling guards. Normally, a Shadow Creek wolf—especially a "traitor's" daughter—would get death glares here. But inside a Morgan carriage, reality blurred, like I'd accidentally stumbled into someone else's life.

"You hanging in there?" I finally asked. Sophia looked miles away, nothing like her usual sunshine self.

She turned, chewing her lip, her eyes showing cracks I'd never seen before.

"Just needed to breathe without being watched for five minutes," she said quietly. "Hard to do when Dad's got his wolves tracking my every move."

"It's just Tyler," I shrugged. "He's practically furniture."

Sophia snorted. "God, you're clueless. Look behind us."

I twisted around, peering through the back window. In the fading light, I spotted it—a smaller carriage pulled by dark horses, keeping perfect distance. Blake's elite guards, dressed casual but armed to the teeth, trying way too hard to look like they weren't following us.

"Your dad's guys?" I asked.

"Yep," Sophia exhaled. "He never lets me breathe. I hoped bringing you might mean fewer babysitters, but seems like he doubled down instead."

The words stung. "So that's why you invited me? Thought I'd help you ditch your security detail?"

So much for new friendship—just being used as cover to shake Daddy's watchdogs. Maybe Blake was right after all.

"What? No!" Sophia's head snapped up, eyes wide. "God, no. I asked you because I need someone to talk to who'll actually listen. I need to know if some things are real or if I'm losing my mind."

I studied her face, hunting for any sign she was playing me, but only saw genuine worry. I didn't know Sophia that well, but enough to know she wasn't the manipulative type. Her kindness was real. "What's eating at you?"

She stared at her hands, twisting her fingers together, clearly wrestling with whether to spill.

"Not yet," she finally said. "Let's just have a normal night first. We'll talk over dinner."

I nodded, backing off. If she wasn't ready to open up, pushing would only make her clam up tighter. I knew firsthand how that felt.

The carriage rolled on, scenery shifting from Silverpeak's perfect pines and stone mansions to the livelier neutral zone—where wolves from every pack traded without Alpha politics getting in the way.

I glanced at Sophia again. She was watching the scenery too, but her eyes were empty, mind clearly somewhere else. I'd bet my last silver coin her troubles involved Jackson. I couldn't stop wondering—if she knew the truth about us, would she hate me? Or maybe she already suspected something wasn't right?