Marked (Marked by Alphas #1)

Chapter 16

I stared at my reflection in the antique full-length mirror, barely recognizing myself. Caleb’s old navy suit from eighth grade fit like it had been tailored just for me—which was either a miracle or slightly concerning, considering the Stone brothers were apparently giants even as teenagers. The jacket hugged my shoulders perfectly, tapering to emphasize my waist, while the pants hit exactly at my ankles. I tried not to think too hard about what it said about me that I perfectly fit in clothes meant for thirteen-year-old Stone.

Maria had found a crisp white shirt to go underneath, and after some creative folding to hide the fact it was probably worth more than my student loans, I actually looked… presentable. Professional, even. Like someone who might get hired at a fancy bookstore instead of just lurking in their manga section.

“Perfect!” Maria declared, adjusting my collar for the fifth time. “Ay, pequeno, you look so handsome!”

I tugged at the sleeves, unused to wearing anything this nice. “Are you sure it’s not too—”

“If you say fancy, I will pinch your cheeks,” Maria threatened.

Escaping Maria’s fussing, I headed for the stairs, only to collide with Anna in the hallway. I’d noticed her dusting the same spot on the hallway wall when Maria first dragged me upstairs to change. It’s been ten minutes and she was still there, feather duster moving in the exact same pattern over the apparently fascinating wallpaper.

“Still battling that stubborn dust spot?” I asked.

“Oh! I was just…” She clutched her feather duster, eyes widening as she took in the suit. “You look so… perfect!” she whispered, then added something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like “just like in chapter six.”

“Thanks?” I steadied her duster before it could fall. “And um, about yesterday with the pillows…”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Anna giggled, her eyes sparkling with an intensity that made me take a step back. She was still whispering to herself, and I caught what sounded like “perfect little wolf!” but I was choosing to believe she’d said “perfect little… walk.” Maybe she was really into exercise?

I made my way downstairs, gripping the banister a bit tighter than necessary in these borrowed dress shoes. The Stone brothers were waiting in the foyer, and I swear time actually slowed down as three pairs of eyes snapped to me like I was wearing a suit made of catnip. Or wolf-nip. Whatever.

“Well?” I spread my arms, trying for humor to hide my nervousness. “Does it scream ‘hire me’ or ‘help, I raided a prep school’s lost and found’?”

Caleb practically bounced on his feet. “I knew it would fit perfectly! See, Marcus? Didn’t I tell you?”

Derek made a strangled sound that might have been approval or cardiac arrest.

Marcus just… stared. The intensity in his eyes made me want to fidget, check if I’d missed a button or grown a second head.

“We should go,” Marcus said, his voice rougher than usual. “Don’t want to be late.”

“Right. Job at the bookstore. No pressure.” I tried for a casual shrug. “Just my entire financial future depending on whether I can convince someone I’m qualified to alphabetize things.”

Derek snorted. “You’ll do fine, little—” He caught himself, clearing his throat. “You’ll do fine.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“The bookstore will be perfect for you,” Caleb insisted, practically bouncing. “Trust me.”

Marcus guided me toward the garage with a hand hovering near my lower back. I tried not to think about how that barely there touch sent tingles up my spine. He led me to the same Mercedes from yesterday.

“Your chariot awaits,” he said.

“Wait,” I paused before getting in. “My phone’s still at the cottage from yesterday’s… impromptu evacuation.”

Something flickered in Marcus’ eyes. “Of course. We’ll stop there first.”

The detour was quick, Marcus’ car practically purring down the winding roads. He insisted on accompanying me inside—apparently the Stone brothers had never heard of personal space—hovering close as I retrieved my phone from the bathroom counter. The screen lit up, showing several missed calls from Luke.

“Your friend seems concerned,” Marcus observed, somehow knowing exactly who’d been calling.

“Luke’s always concerned,” I muttered, quickly sending a text to let him know I was alive. “It’s his default setting.”

Back in the car, I slid into the butter-soft leather seat. “I feel like I should have better life choices to match this car.”

The drive into town was… interesting. Marcus seemed determined to break some kind of silence record, while I tried not to fidget in my borrowed suit. The morning sun caught his profile as he drove, all sharp angles and perfect stubble, like some luxury car commercial come to life. Surprisingly, my usual anxiety about the forest didn’t kick in. Maybe it was Marcus’ steady presence beside me, or maybe I was too preoccupied with not hyperventilating about the job.

“You seem tense,” he observed, finally breaking the silence.

“What gave it away? The nervous fidgeting or the way I’m trying to mentally calculate how many books I’d need to sell to cover my student loans?”

“You don’t need to worry about—”

“The loans? Yeah, that’s what my bank account keeps telling me, right before it laughs.”

Marcus’ lips twitched. “I was going to say the job. Jane’s fair. Just be yourself.”

“Be myself? Have you met me? I’m the guy who trips over air and makes inappropriate jokes when nervous. Which is always.”

“Trust me,” Marcus said with that mysterious half smile of his. “It’ll work out.”

A comfortable silence fell between us before I ventured, “So, does the whole town belong to your family or just the important bits?”

Marcus’ lips twitched again. “What makes you think we own any of it?”

“Please. I may be new here, but I’m not blind. Everything’s either named Stone-something or looks expensive enough to be.” I gestured at the passing buildings as we entered town. “Plus, the way people practically genuflect when they see your car…”

His rich laugh filled the cabin, making something warm flutter in my chest. “We may have some investments in the area.”

“Uh-huh. And I may have some student loans.” I rolled my eyes. “That’s like saying the ocean has ‘some’ water.”

Cedar Grove’s town square was quiet this early, morning mist still clinging to the corners of the Victorian buildings. Marcus pulled his ridiculous car into a spot right in front of Stone & Page—because of course the Stones would have their own private parking space, probably enforced by town ordinance.

“Ready?” Marcus asked.

“As I’ll ever be.” I stepped out, tugging at Caleb’s borrowed suit jacket. “Though I still feel like I’m cosplaying as a functioning adult.”

Marcus’ hand settled briefly on my lower back as we approached the store, and I tried to ignore how that simple touch sent warmth spreading through my chest.

I’d walked past Stone & Page before, but actually stepping inside was a different experience entirely. The quaint storefront I’d admired from the sidewalk opened into a bookworm’s paradise—all exposed brick walls and gleaming hardwood floors, with towering wooden shelves that required those sliding ladders I’d spotted through the window. The morning sun streamed through the front windows, catching dust motes in golden beams that made everything look even more magical than I’d imagined.

“Okay, this is just unfair,” I muttered, inhaling the heavenly scent of books, coffee, and old wood. “No wonder this place has survived the e-book apocalypse.”

Marcus’ smile was knowing. “You like it?”

“Like it? I want to marry it and have its book babies.” I trailed my fingers along a shelf of leather-bound classics. “Though I’m pretty sure this single shelf is worth more than everything I own.”

An elegant woman in her fifties appeared from between the stacks, her silver-streaked hair swept up in a perfect French twist. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of Marcus.

“Mr. Stone! What a pleasant surprise.” She turned to me with renewed interest. “And who might this be?”

“Jane, this is Kai Chen. He’s interested in the position.” Marcus’ hand settled briefly on my lower back as he introduced us, warm and oddly possessive. “Kai, Jane has managed Stone & Page for twenty years.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Jane said warmly. “Let me get you an application form first—procedure, you know.”

“Take your time filling it out,” Marcus said, his hand briefly touching my elbow. “I have meetings at the Stone Building. Come find me there when you’re done?” His eyes held mine for a moment longer than necessary. “The receptionist will know where to find me.”

I nodded, trying to ignore how my skin tingled where his hand had been. “Sure. Thanks for the ride. And the suit. Well, Caleb’s suit. Though I guess technically it’s all Stone property anyway and—I’m going to stop talking now.”

Jane waited until Marcus left before directing me to a cozy reading nook by the window. “You can fill this out here. Take your time.”

I settled into an obscenely comfortable armchair, trying not to think about how right this place felt. Like coming home, which was ridiculous since I’d been here all of ten minutes. But something about the store, with its maze of shelves and hidden corners, called to me.

While working on the form, I noticed Jane slip behind the counter, phone pressed to her ear, speaking in low tones. She kept glancing my way, nodding at whatever the person on the other end was saying.

“All done,” I said, returning the form to the counter.

Jane scanned it quickly—suspiciously quickly—then broke into a bright smile. “Perfect! Would you mind if we did the interview now? I suddenly have an opening in my schedule.”

Forty-five minutes later, I walked out of Stone & Page feeling slightly dazed. Not only had I nailed the interview—if I do say so myself—but Jane wanted me to start tomorrow morning. Either I was more qualified than I thought, or the universe was finally cutting me a break.

The Stone Building dominated one corner of the town square, all red brick and imposing Victorian architecture. Inside, the entryway opened into a lobby that looked like it belonged in a luxury hotel rather than a small-town office building. Dark wood paneling climbed halfway up the walls, meeting cream wallpaper with subtle gold patterns. A crystal chandelier cast warm light over leather chairs and what had to be actual oil paintings.

The receptionist, a polished woman in her forties, smiled warmly. “Can I help you?”

“Um, Marcus Stone asked me to come find him after…” I gestured vaguely at my borrowed suit.

“Ah, you must be Kai! Please, take the stairs up to the waiting area. I’ll let Mr. Stone know you’re here.”

The wooden staircase curved elegantly up to a loftlike space overlooking the lobby. More leather seating formed a cozy waiting area, with tall windows letting in natural light. Through glass doors, I could see what had to be Marcus’ office—all dark wood and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

I’d barely settled into one of the ridiculously comfortable chairs when my phone buzzed.

“‘I’m alive’ is not an explanation,” Luke said flatly. “Twelve missed calls deserve more than two words, Kai.”

“Fine. The pipes broke, I got whisked away to a mansion by one of the Stone brothers, and—”

“One of the what now?”

“Oh yeah, there’s three of them. Marcus, Derek, and Caleb. They own like half the town or something.”

“Three brothers?” Luke sounded like he was having a stroke. “Three hot brothers? Who own half the town? Are you living in a Kdrama right now?”

“More like a Gothic romance. You should see their house. It’s all dark wood and hidden passages and—oh, by the way, I got a job at their bookstore.”

“Back up. Hidden passages? And what bookstore? When did—” Luke cut himself off. “Eomma was right. There’s definitely something weird going on there.”

“Imo thinks everything’s weird,” I pointed out, flipping through a magazine. “Speaking of weird, you’ll never believe where I’m sitting right now.”

“Let me guess—some fancy office that looks like it belongs in a drama?”

“All dark wood and leather chairs. Very… brooding billionaire aesthetic.”

“I can’t believe you’re living my romance fantasies right now. But seriously, three brothers? Are they all…”

“Unfairly attractive? Mysteriously intense? Weirdly protective? Check, check, and check.”

“ Aigo ,” (Oh my goodness) Luke muttered, channeling his mom. “I don’t know whether to be excited or terrified for you.”

“Both is good,” I said, glancing toward Marcus’ office. “But I should probably go actually tell one of said brooding billionaires about getting the job.”

“Fine, but I want actual details later. Not just ‘I’m alive’ texts.”

“Goodbye, Luke.”

“Send pictures! For research purposes!”

I hung up, shaking my head but smiling. Trust Luke to simultaneously make me feel better and more paranoid about everything. After four years of being roommates and best friends, he’d earned the right to be overprotective—even if he did take after his mom a bit too much in the supernatural suspicion department.

Marcus emerged from his office, suit jacket perfectly pressed despite the morning meetings. Even after just a few days in Cedar Grove, I was starting to recognize the telltale signs of my body’s ridiculous reaction to him—the way my pulse quickened, how my skin prickled with awareness, the strange heat that pooled in my chest. Just the sight of him made something flutter deep inside me—a feeling I’d been trying, and failing miserably, to ignore since I first arrived in Cedar Grove.

He moved with that effortless grace that seemed impossible for someone his size, all controlled power and quiet authority. The afternoon sun streaming through the windows caught the subtle highlights in his dark hair, and I had to physically stop myself from reaching out to touch it. What was wrong with me? I’d never been this affected by anyone before, never felt this overwhelming urge to be closer, to touch, to…

“Ready?” he asked, his deep voice sending another wave of warmth through me. His eyes seemed to see right through me, and I wondered if he could hear how fast my heart was beating.

I managed a nod, not trusting my voice. This attraction, this pull toward him—it wasn’t normal. Couldn’t be normal. But try telling that to my traitorous body, which seemed to gravitate toward him like he had his own magnetic field.

“How did the application go?” Marcus asked as we headed down the stairs. “Jane usually takes a few days to schedule interviews.”

“Actually…” I fell into step beside him, trying to ignore how his hand hovered near my lower back. “Either I’m more charming than I thought, or Cedar Grove is really desperate for bookworms, because she interviewed me on the spot. I start tomorrow.” I aimed for casual, but my voice had that slightly breathless quality that seemed to emerge whenever Marcus was within arm’s reach.

Marcus’ pleased smile seemed almost… predatory. Like he’d known this would happen all along. But that was ridiculous, right? Still, something about his expression made me think of a chess master seeing his pieces fall exactly where he’d planned.

“That’s wonderful news,” he said smoothly, guiding me toward the parking lot. “Jane must have been impressed. She’s usually quite… selective.”

There was something in his tone I couldn’t quite place. Pride? Satisfaction? Before I could analyze it further, he was opening the car door for me, and all my mental facilities short-circuited at his proximity. From this angle, I could see where his shirt collar parted, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of tanned skin. My mouth went dry as my eyes traced the strong column of his neck, down to where his tie had been loosened just enough to be distracting. I had to physically stop myself from reaching out, from running my fingertips along that exposed skin, from leaning in to taste…

I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze away. Since when did I have these thoughts? These overwhelming urges to touch, to taste, to—nope. Not going there. Definitely not thinking about how his skin would feel under my tongue or how he’d react if I—

“Kai?” Marcus’ voice had dropped an octave lower, rough around the edges. When I dared to look up, his eyes had darkened to midnight, and the way he was watching me made heat pool low in my belly.

I practically dove into the car, my face burning. Great. Now I was having inappropriate thoughts about licking Marcus Stone—Marcus freaking Stone, who probably owned half the town and owned whatever was left of my sanity. Cedar Grove was clearly doing something to my brain. Or maybe it was just him, with his perfect everything and that look that made me want to climb him like a tree.

No. Bad Kai. No licking the local… whatever Marcus was. Town royal? Business mogul? Walking temptation in a tailored suit? And no thinking about climbing him, no matter how much he looked like the world’s hottest jungle gym in that perfectly fitted suit.

As Marcus slid into the driver’s seat, I pressed myself against the passenger door, trying to put as much space between us as possible in the confined space. I caught the slight quirk of his lips, the knowing look in his eyes as he noticed my retreat, but he didn’t comment. Thank God for small mercies. Though the way his hands flexed on the steering wheel, the subtle tension in his shoulders… maybe he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be.

The drive back started quietly, late morning sun warming the leather seats. Every time Marcus shifted gears, his hand would brush near my thigh, sending little sparks of awareness through my body. I was hyperaware of his presence—the subtle scent of his cologne, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his strong hands gripped the steering wheel. It was maddening how much I noticed, how much I wanted… to trace those veins on his forearms where he’d rolled up his sleeves, to feel those powerful hands on my skin instead of the wheel, to climb into his lap and find out if his mouth tasted as good as it looked. The urge to touch him, to be touched by him, was so strong it made my head spin.

God, what was wrong with me? I’d never been this desperate for someone’s touch before, never felt this overwhelming need to be closer, to taste, to submit—

No. Nope. Not going there. Focus on something else. Anything else. Like… trees—no, definitely not trees. I’d spent my whole life avoiding forests. Water. Yes, water was safe. Water didn’t make me want to do inappropriate things in expensive cars. Water didn’t have hands that looked like they could pin me down with embarrassing ease. Water didn’t—

That’s when I spotted it—a pristine lake stretched out between the trees, its surface like polished glass in the light.

“Wow,” I breathed, pressing closer to the window, grateful for the distraction from my increasingly confused thoughts.

“Cedar Lake,” Marcus said, catching my obvious interest. He turned onto a small gravel turnout overlooking the water.

The lake spread before us like polished glass in the light, surrounded by towering pines that reflected perfectly in its mirrorlike surface. A family of ducks glided across the water, leaving gentle ripples in their wake. The whole scene looked like something from a postcard—peaceful, pristine, perfect.

“It’s beautiful,” I said softly, not wanting to break the tranquil moment.

“It’s part of the Stone property,” Marcus replied, his voice equally quiet. “The far shore connects to our land.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the pristine view, the privacy of the moment, or just being alone with Marcus in this intimate space, but something shifted in the air between us. The car suddenly felt smaller, warmer. Every breath seemed to draw his scent deeper into my lungs—that mix of expensive cologne and something uniquely him that made my head swim.

The intimacy of the moment wrapped around us like a physical thing. My skin felt too tight, too sensitive, yearning for something I couldn’t name. Every breath brought his scent closer, making my head spin with want. I’d never felt anything like this before—this raw, primal need for touch, for closeness. It scared me how much I wanted to lean into him, to feel his hands on my skin.

I found myself leaning closer to Marcus, drawn by some invisible force I couldn’t fight—didn’t want to fight. My body moved on its own, inch by inch, until our shoulders touched. The contact sent sparks of electricity through my entire body, and I had to bite back a gasp. What was I doing? Why couldn’t I stop myself? And more importantly, when did my life turn into a romantic movie cliché? You know—attractive businessman, expensive car, meaningful gazes by a pristine lake? If this followed the usual script, there should be dramatic music swelling in the background right about now. Though honestly? Marcus was putting every movie lead I’d ever seen to shame. Not that I’d spent hours watching rom-coms. Recently. This week. But hey, romantic comedies were a lot better than lying awake listening to those weird noises upstairs in the cottage or that haunting howling in the woods that definitely wasn’t wolves because wolves didn’t live in Washington anymore, right? Right?

“Beautiful,” Marcus murmured, his voice deeper than I’d ever heard it. I wasn’t sure if he meant the lake or… but the way his eyes fixed on my face made my heart do gymnastics worthy of an Olympic medal.

We were so close now, I could feel the heat radiating from his body, could smell that intoxicating scent that was uniquely him. Something primitive and desperate clawed at my chest, begging to be closer, to be touched, to be… claimed? Great, now my brain was writing bad poetry. What next, swooning?

Oh God, am I really going to kiss him? What am I doing? Why can’t I stop? Why don’t I want to stop? Hello, brain? Earth to Kai? Anyone home? No? Just hormones and bad decisions? Cool, cool, cool…

Marcus turned his head slightly, and suddenly our faces were inches apart. His eyes had darkened to midnight, pupils blown wide with something that looked like hunger. I watched, helpless, as his gaze dropped to my lips. If this was a dream, I was going to be seriously annoyed when my alarm clock ruined it.

Move back. Move back right now. This is insane. This is Marcus Stone. This is—oh God, his cologne should be illegal in at least forty-eight states.

But my body wasn’t listening to my brain anymore. That magnetic pull between us was overwhelming, drowning out every rational thought. Something deep inside me whined with need, a part of myself I’d never known existed suddenly desperate for his touch. Apparently, my survival instincts had taken a vacation and left my hormones in charge.

“Marcus,” I whispered, my voice breaking on his name. It was half plea, half warning—though I wasn’t sure if I was pleading for him to stop me or begging him to close that final distance and put me out of my misery.

His hand came up to cup my cheek, and I swear I could feel him trembling with restraint. “We shouldn’t,” he growled, but his thumb traced my lower lip like he couldn’t help himself. Yeah, because that was totally helping my self-control.

I heard him draw in a sharp breath, saw him close his eyes like he was fighting some internal battle. But his hand didn’t move from my face, and I found myself turning into his touch like a flower seeking sun. Or more accurately, like a moth to a really expensive, perfectly tailored flame.

The need to kiss him was overwhelming now, a physical ache in my chest. My whole body hummed with it, every nerve ending screaming for contact. I’d never wanted anything so badly in my life, never felt this desperate, primal urge to submit, to offer, to—okay, brain, we get it. You can stop with the romantic narration anytime now.

With a soft sound that was definitely not a whimper—it was, totally was—I finally gave up the battle with my own body. Whatever magnetic force was pulling me toward Marcus won, and I closed that final distance and pressed my lips to his. If this was my body’s way of staging a coup against my brain, at least it had excellent taste in rebellion targets.

For a heartbeat, Marcus went completely still. Then he was kissing me back with an intensity that made my world tilt on its axis. His lips were firm but gentle, commanding but careful, tasting of expensive coffee and something uniquely him that made my head spin. I melted into him without conscious thought, my body going pliant under his touch in a way that should have scared me but somehow felt perfectly right. A soft whimper escaped me as his other hand tangled in my hair, holding me close as he deepened the kiss.

The first brush of his tongue against my lips had me gasping, and Marcus took full advantage, sliding inside to taste me properly. A deep growl rumbled through his chest, the sound so primal it made me shiver. Our tongues met and tangled, and oh God, how was he so good at this? Each stroke, each tease had me trembling, desperate for more. My hands clutched at his shirt, needing him closer, always closer, as shared breaths turned to soft moans between kisses.

My body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation. The touch-starved part of me I’d been ignoring for so long practically purred at the contact. When Marcus pulled back slightly only to change angles and dive back in deeper, I couldn’t help the breathless moan that escaped me. His answering growl vibrated through my entire body, making my knees weak—thank God I was sitting down. Everything narrowed down to this moment—his touch, his taste, the way he seemed to know exactly how to kiss me to make my brain short-circuit. Each sweep of his tongue, each gentle bite to my lower lip sent sparks of pleasure shooting down my spine.

Without conscious thought, my hands slid up his neck, fingers tangling in the surprisingly soft strands of his hair. Each silky strand between my fingers sent sparks of sensation down my spine, and the deep, possessive growl that rumbled through his chest had me melting even further. How had I gone my whole life without being kissed like this? Like I was something precious but also something to be devoured. Like I was his. The thought should have terrified me, but instead it just made me press closer, wanting more, needing more.

When I finally pulled back, breathless and trembling, I caught a glimpse of something dark and hungry in Marcus’ eyes. His usual icy blue had darkened to something deeper, more primal, and the way he looked at me made heat pool low in my belly. His thumb traced my lower lip, and for a moment I thought—hoped—he might pull me back in for another kiss. The tension between us was electric, his entire body rigid with what looked like barely contained restraint.

“We should head back,” Marcus said, his voice rough and deeper than I’d ever heard it. “Maria and Jorge will be… displeased if we’re late for lunch.” The way he forced out the words made it clear lunch was the last thing on his mind. His hands clenched and unclenched on the steering wheel, like he was physically stopping himself from reaching for me again.

I could have sworn I heard him mutter something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “brothers” and “wait their turn,” but that couldn’t be right. The kiss must have scrambled my brain more than I thought.

Instead of giving in to what was clearly mutual temptation, he started the car and pulled back onto the road, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The rest of the drive passed in charged silence, my heart still racing and my lips still tingling from our kiss. My whole body hummed with unfulfilled need, like a string pulled too tight.

I tried not to think about how I could still feel his eyes on me, watching, wanting—or about how much I wanted him to look at me that way again. How much I needed him to touch me again. This hunger, this desperation—it wasn’t normal, was it? But then again, nothing about Cedar Grove, the Stones, or these feelings seemed normal anymore.