Chapter 4: When Alpha Kings Say No

Ava's POV

"Some prices," Blake murmured, his finger still tracing the mark on my neck, "are higher than others. Are you certain you want to know mine?"

My heart hammered against my ribs, his touch sending waves of pleasure through my mark instead of the usual burning pain. The difference was so stark I nearly gasped.

"Yes," I met his gaze head-on. "I'll pay anything to save my father."

Blake studied me, those storm-gray eyes giving nothing away. Finally, he jerked his chin toward the door. "Follow me."

We slipped through a hidden corridor I'd never noticed before, winding our way to Blackwood Manor in complete silence. The air between us crackled with unspoken tension, making the hair on my arms stand up.

His office sprawled across the top floor, with wall-to-wall windows framing an endless vista of Silverpeak territory. Miles of ancient forest stretched to snow-capped mountains under a cloudless sky. The kind of view that reminded you just how tiny your problems were in the grand scheme of things.

Dark wooden panels lined the walls, adorned with ancient weapons and pack artifacts. The distinct scent of cedar and old leather permeated the air, a stark contrast to the sterile conference rooms at Warrior Academy.

Blake didn't hide behind his massive oak desk. Instead, he leaned against it, arms crossed, watching me. His dark shirt had the sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing corded forearms.

Everything about him screamed power—not the showy, look-at-me kind Jackson loved, but something bone-deep and unquestionable.

"Let's cut to the chase, Alpha King," I broke first, meeting his eyes directly even though it was basically daring a wolf to bite.

His mouth quirked up. "Tell me why you're so damn sure your father's innocent first."

"Because I know him," I shot back. "He practically had a shrine to Alpha Carter in our basement. The man worshipped him."

"Feelings don't trump evidence," Blake said, voice flat. "Even the most loyal dogs can bite."

I flinched. This wasn't going anywhere near where I'd expected. "Just tell me what you want in exchange for helping him."

Blake went quiet, watching me with unnerving intensity.

Fuck it. I stepped closer and popped the top clasp of my warrior uniform, revealing a hint of skin and my tank top underneath.

"Maybe I could..." My voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Make it worth your while." I reached out, fingers brushing his forearm.

His eyes flashed gold instantly, his breathing going ragged. His scent changed too—that pine and smoke smell taking on a spicy edge that made my wolf sit up and beg.

For a heartbeat, his gaze dropped to my exposed collarbone, his throat working as he swallowed hard.

Then he blinked, took a deep breath, and gently pushed my hand away, refastening my top clasp with surprisingly gentle fingers. His knuckles brushed against my collarbone, lingering a fraction longer than necessary, betraying the struggle behind his composed expression.

"Really? That's what you think of me?" Despite his words, the lingering gold in his eyes gave him away, and his jaw clenched as he fought to maintain control. "If I wanted company in my bed, I wouldn't need to extort it."

My face burned hot enough to melt steel. "I never actually—with Jackson—I just thought—"

"You thought I'd trade my help for your body." The disappointment in his voice stung worse than any insult. "You should value yourself more than that."

He sighed, voice softening. "I have a daughter your age. I'd kill any man who tried to make her bargain with herself like this. I expect better from you."

His fingertips traced my mark again, sending warm ripples through me instead of the usual stabbing pain. My wolf practically purred, leaning into his touch before I could stop myself.

The door opened and Tyler Reed appeared, his expression carefully neutral. Blake dropped his hand from my neck.

"See Miss Rivers out," Blake said, turning away.

"Right away, Alpha." Tyler nodded.

"Thanks for nothing," I muttered, pride forcing the words out even as my wolf howled in protest.

I felt Blake's eyes burning into my back all the way to the door.

Outside Blackwood Manor, I collapsed onto a boulder, letting shame and frustration wash over me. My wolf paced restlessly, agitated about walking away from the Alpha King.

I closed my eyes, reaching for Ella through our mindlink. After a moment of static, her consciousness brushed against mine.

So? Her thoughts came through eager and hopeful.

Epic fail. I let her feel my mortification. I offered myself to him like some desperate groupie, and he basically patted me on the head and sent me home.

Oh shit, Ava. Her sympathy flowed through our connection. Look, there's an inter-pack thing at Moonlight Lodge tonight. All the bigwigs will be there. We might find someone who knows something about your dad's case.

I straightened up, my embarrassment hardening into resolve. Meet you in thirty.

Breaking the mindlink, I pushed off the boulder. The connection with Ella came as easy as breathing after all our years of friendship, a small comfort in the chaos my life had become.

"You clean up nice," Ella grinned, eyeing my Shadow Creek formal wear when we met outside Moonlight Lodge. "That blue makes your eyes pop."

I smoothed down the ceremonial dress, uncomfortable in the formal attire after years of preferring practical battle gear. But tonight was about information, not comfort.

"Let's just get what we need and leave," I muttered, adjusting the high collar that barely hid Jackson's fading mark on my neck.

I scanned the packed hall, taking in the mix of packs in their ceremonial attire. Moonlight Lodge had transformed for the evening—crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow over polished marble floors, and intricately carved wooden panels depicting ancient pack histories lined the walls.

The neutral territory venue was designed to impress, with subtle touches honoring each major pack without favoring any.

"Who might actually know something about the border clash? Someone not afraid to talk?"

"Those guys over there—Northern territory delegates," she pointed discreetly. "The fight happened practically in their backyard. And they've been drinking heavily. Perfect combination for loose lips."

"Let me handle this," I said, grabbing an empty tray from a passing server. "I'll pose as staff to get closer."

Ella raised an eyebrow. "Clever. I'll keep watch."

I turned and my stomach dropped. Jackson Hayes stood in the entrance like he owned the place, draped in his formal Shadow Creek robes with silver embroidery marking his status as Alpha-in-waiting. He was surrounded by his entourage of elite warriors, all laughing too loudly.

His eyes found mine instantly, his mouth curving into that smug smile that used to make me weak but now just made me nauseous.

And clinging to his arm, looking like a walking diamond commercial in her flowing silver gown, was Sophia Morgan—Blake's daughter and Jackson's ticket to power.