Marked (Marked by Alphas #1)

Chapter 19

M aria’s idea of “a few leftovers” apparently meant enough food to feed a small army. Or at least one very hungry bookstore employee for approximately three months.

“This is just a little bit,” she insisted, stacking container after container into my arms while Jorge kept appearing with more from seemingly nowhere. “The seafood stew, some lamb—good heavens! And the chicken, you barely touched the chicken!”

“Maria, I can’t possibly—” I started, only to have another container shoved at me.

“Nonsense! A growing boy needs proper food. Look at you! So skinny!” She poked my ribs through Miguel’s borrowed t-shirt accusingly. “Those university people, feeding you nothing but instant noodles. It’s shameful!”

I wanted to point out that I was twenty-two, hardly a “growing boy,” but arguing with Maria was like trying to fight a tornado with a paper fan. Pointless and likely to end with you getting swept away anyway.

“And these,” she announced, wheeling out an actual suitcase. “Some of Caleb’s old things. Good quality, perfect for work. Much better than those clothes you mentioned earlier—” She shook her head, clearly remembering my earlier admission about my limited wardrobe of worn jeans and old t-shirts. “No, no, no. Cannot have you starting your new job dressed like that.”

“Maria, you really don’t have to—”

“They’re just gathering dust,” Caleb cut in, appearing at my elbow and grinning at my predicament. “Besides, they’re from my awkward teenage phase. Way too small for me now.”

The clothes, when Maria proudly displayed them, were not what I’d expect from anyone’s “awkward phase.” Designer labels and perfect condition.

“I can’t accept—”

“Of course you can, carino!” Maria declared with the finality of a judge delivering a death sentence. “No more arguments! Now, one more container of the almond cake…”

By the time we made it to Caleb’s car, the back seat looked like we’d robbed a high-end department store and a five-star restaurant simultaneously. Scout darted past us, somehow managing to claim the perfect spot among the containers and luggage before I could even protest his apparent self-invitation. The rain was still coming down in sheets, drumming against the roof of the car like nature’s own percussion section.

“You know she’s adopted you now, right?” Caleb’s eyes danced with amusement as he started the engine. “There’s no escape.”

“I gathered that somewhere between the third Tupperware of lamb and the designer suit,” I said dryly but couldn’t help smiling. “Does she do this to everyone?”

“Nope.” He turned slightly in his seat toward me, his presence filling the small space with warmth. “You’re special.”

The proximity shouldn’t have affected me so much, but my body apparently hadn’t gotten the memo about playing it cool. Every inch of space between us felt charged with electricity, like static building before a storm.

“Special as in ‘needs feeding up’ special, or special as in—” I broke off as movement caught my eye. Through the rain-streaked window, I could have sworn I saw two figures—Marcus and Shadow?—sprinting into the woods. But that couldn’t be right, because the shapes seemed to blur and shift until… were those wolves?

I blinked hard. “I think I’m more tired than I thought.”

“The rain plays tricks,” Caleb said lightly. “Speaking of tired, sure you won’t stay? That guest room has your name on it.”

In the back, Scout’s tail thumped against the leather seats as if seconding the invitation.

“Can’t,” I managed, proud that my voice stayed steady despite how Caleb’s proximity made my heart race. “First day at the bookstore tomorrow. Need to at least pretend to be responsible.”

“Responsible is overrated,” he teased, and God, even his voice felt like a caress. “But I guess I’ll have to settle for driving you home.”

The way he said ‘home’ sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the storm outside. Scout whined softly from the back seat, and I caught his concerned expression in the rearview mirror. When had Caleb’s presence become so… intoxicating? He was still the same playful, charming guy who’d helped with my car, but now every smile, every look felt charged with something more.

“You’re thinking too hard,” he murmured, and I realized we’d stopped at the property gates. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from my face, and the gentle gesture somehow felt more intimate than any kiss.

“Someone has to,” I shot back, but my attempted snark lost some impact when my breath hitched as his fingers traced down my jaw.

His laugh was low and warm. “Touché. But maybe not tonight?”

The rain continued its steady rhythm as we pulled away from the manor, but my thoughts were far from the weather. They were stuck on the lingering warmth of Caleb’s touch, the spicy scent of his cologne, and the nagging worry about Derek somewhere out in this storm. Scout’s steady presence in the back seat was oddly comforting, like having a furry guardian angel.

And certainly not about whatever shadow-wolf things I definitely hadn’t seen in the rain. Nope. Not thinking about that at all.

The rain continued its steady rhythm as we pulled away from the manor.

“Your dog’s as subtle as you are,” I commented, watching Scout’s tail thump against the designer suitcase in the rearview mirror.

“He likes you.” Caleb turned toward me, his shoulder brushing mine in the confined space. “Smart dog.”

“Is that why Shadow ran off with—” I caught myself, not wanting to bring up Marcus and that maybe-hallucination in the rain.

“Scared of a little thunder?” Caleb teased, leaning closer. His warmth radiated through the small space between us, making my breath catch in my throat.

“Please. I’ve seen scarier things in university cafeterias.” I tried for nonchalant, but my voice wavered as his fingers ghosted over my wrist, barely touching but leaving trails of electricity in their wake.

His laugh was rich and warm in the confined space. “I bet you have.”

The cottage appeared through the curtain of rain, looking like the opening scene of every supernatural thriller I’d ever watched. Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the weathered stone and ivy-covered walls. Thunder followed almost immediately, and I definitely didn’t jump. Much. Caleb’s hand grasped mine for just a moment, steady and reassuring.

“Cozy,” Caleb commented, pulling up as close to the door as possible. Scout was already pawing at the door, eager to escape the rain.

It took three trips to get everything inside, even with Caleb’s impressive ability to carry multiple containers at once. The cottage felt different in the storm—smaller, more intimate. The thunder made the old windows rattle, and rain lashed against the glass like it was trying to get in. Scout immediately made himself at home, shaking off his wet fur before claiming the couch like he owned it.

“You sure you don’t want Scout to stay?” Caleb asked, watching his dog’s obvious attempt to become one with my furniture. “He’s great company during storms.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. A particularly loud crack of thunder made me jump.

Scout let out a pitiful whine, his big eyes moving between me and Caleb. For a moment, he looked so much like a kid begging for a sleepover that I had to bite back a laugh.

“Really?” I asked Scout directly. “The puppy-dog eyes?”

His tail thumped against the couch cushions hopefully.

“He’s got your number.” Caleb grinned.

I sighed, pretending it was a bigger concession than it was. Truth was, the thought of spending another night alone in my sleeping bag, watching shadows dance across the cottage walls, wasn’t exactly appealing. “Fine. But no stealing my sleeping bag. The couch is all yours.”

Scout’s tail wagging reached supersonic speeds, and I could have sworn he was actually smirking. He stretched out on the couch like a king surveying his domain, leaving just enough space that I might—maybe—end up migrating there if the floor got too uncomfortable. Which, given how my back felt after that first night, was pretty much guaranteed.

“I’ll bring his food and stuff around tomorrow,” Caleb said, watching his dog’s shameless display with amusement. “Though knowing Maria, she’s probably already planning his meals too.”

The kitchen counter became a Tetris game of Tupperware as I tried to fit Maria’s feast into my modest fridge. “I’m pretty sure this is more food than I ate in my entire senior year.”

“That’s Maria for you.” Caleb leaned against the doorframe, watching me with that playful smile that somehow managed to be both innocent and dangerous.

Lightning flashed again, followed by a thunderous crack that had me nearly dropping a container of paella. Scout’s reassuring presence in the living room helped steady my nerves, but I still needed a distraction.

“Um, want some coffee? Fair warning—it’s instant from Karen’s store.”

“Instant coffee?” Caleb clutched his chest in mock horror. “My delicate sensibilities!”

“Hey, some of us haven’t graduated to pretentious coffee snob status yet.” I reached for the cabinet above the sink, and suddenly Caleb was there, his chest pressing against my back as he easily grabbed the coffee jar I was stretching for.

“Allow me,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. Instead of stepping back, he set the jar on the counter and placed his hands on either side of me, effectively caging me between his body and the counter. His warmth seeped through my borrowed shirt, making my skin tingle wherever we touched.

My heart thundered louder than the storm outside. “Show-off,” I managed, but my voice came out embarrassingly breathy. His chest rumbled with laughter against my back, and I had to suppress a shiver at the sensation.

“Maybe.” His lips brushed my ear, sending electricity down my spine. “But you like it, don’t you, baby?”

The pet name shouldn’t affect me the way it did, but heat pooled in my stomach anyway. His breath ghosted down my neck, and this time I couldn’t hold back the shiver.

I turned to face him, probably to say something snarky, but the words died in my throat. His eyes held that dangerous sparkle that made him look like a mischievous god about to cause chaos, and I was willing to be collateral damage. But there was something else there too—a flash of something wild that he seemed to be fighting to control.

“You know what else you’d like?” Before I could process what was happening, his hands were on my waist and I was being lifted onto the counter like I weighed nothing. The casual display of strength made my stomach flip.

“Did you just—” I started, but then he was stepping between my legs, and coherent thought became a distant memory. His hands stayed on my waist, thumbs drawing maddening circles against my hip bones.

“Better.” He grinned, reaching up to brush my hair back from my face. The gesture was surprisingly tender for someone who’d just manhandled me onto a counter. “Now we’re eye to eye.”

“Still shorter,” I pointed out, just to be difficult. My hands had somehow found their way to his shoulders, and I could feel the tension in his muscles, like he was physically restraining himself.

His laugh was warm against my lips. “Such a brat, kitten.” He leaned closer, then suddenly tensed. His eyes flickered with something—almost like he was listening to voices I couldn’t hear—before that playful smile returned. “A very tempting brat.”

When he finally kissed me, it wasn’t with Marcus’ calculated intensity or Derek’s primal hunger. Caleb kissed like he did everything else—playfully, teasingly, but with an underlying heat that made my toes curl. His tongue traced my bottom lip, asking rather than demanding entrance, and when I gasped, he took full advantage. One hand tangled in my hair while the other stayed at my waist, thumb still tracing those maddening circles.

I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped when he caught my bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. My hands found their way into his still-damp hair, and the groan he let out sent heat straight to my core.

“Been wanting to do that since I first saw you cursing at your car,” he murmured against my lips. “You looked so pretty when you were angry.”

“Smooth talker,” I accused but pulled him back in for another kiss. This time he didn’t tease—his tongue swept into my mouth immediately, claiming and exploring in a way that had me wrapping my legs around his waist without thinking.

He groaned again, deeper this time, his hands sliding down to grip my hips. The possessive gesture pulled me closer to the edge of the counter, pressing us together in all the right ways. Then suddenly he tensed again, like he was fighting some internal battle. His grip on my hips tightened almost painfully before he forced himself to loosen his hold.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he ground out, resting his forehead against mine. His breathing was ragged, and I swore his eyes flickered with that same wild light I’d seen in his brothers’.

“Show me?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His eyes darkened, but that playful smile never left, even as his whole body seemed to vibrate with restrained energy. “Careful what you wish for, pretty thing.” He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to my forehead, then stepped back like it physically pained him. “I should go.”

“Probably,” I agreed, making no move to unwrap my legs from around him. The storm still raged outside, rain lashing against the windows, but somehow the cottage felt too warm.

His laugh was slightly strained. “You’re not helping, baby.”

“Not trying to,” I shot back, and was rewarded with another searing kiss that left me dizzy. This time when his tongue swept into my mouth, there was nothing playful about it. He kissed me like a man starving, one hand fisting in my hair while the other pulled me impossibly closer. I could feel him trembling with what seemed like restraint, fighting something I didn’t understand.

Then he wrenched away with a curse, stumbling back a step. His chest heaved as he ran a shaking hand through his hair. “I really need to go,” he said, voice rough. “Before I—” He cut himself off, that same tension I’d seen in his brothers rippling through him.

“Before you what?” I asked, breathless and confused by the sudden shift.

His smile was strained but still playful. “Before I decide to find out just how sturdy this counter is.” He stepped forward for one more quick kiss, but even that brief contact seemed to test his control. “Sweet dreams, baby.”

He practically bolted for the door, moving with that same impossible speed I’d seen from Derek earlier. Through the window, I caught a glimpse of him actually running to his car through the rain, like something was chasing him—or like he was running from something inside himself.

I touched my still-tingling lips as his taillights disappeared into the storm. Between Marcus’ kiss by the lake, Derek in the woods, and now this… what the hell was I getting myself into? And why did all three brothers seem to be fighting the same losing battle with themselves?

The way they moved sometimes, the strange tension in their bodies, how they’d suddenly seem to be listening to voices I couldn’t hear… it was like they were all caging something wild inside themselves. Something that apparently really, really liked me.

Scout’s sympathetic whine from the couch seemed to say he was wondering the same thing. Or maybe he was just judging his master’s dramatic exit.

After the chaos of the evening, I desperately needed a shower. The stairs creaked under my feet as I headed up, Scout following dutifully behind like my own personal security detail.

The bathroom was functional again. Hot water streamed steadily from the showerhead, and I nearly moaned at the first touch of warmth on my skin. It helped clear my head but didn’t quite wash away the memory of three very different kisses from three very similar brothers.

When I went back downstairs in my sleep clothes, toweling my hair dry, I found Scout had made himself comfortable in my sleeping bag. The massive dog looked up at me with innocent eyes, as if he hadn’t just commandeered my bed.

“Really?” I asked, but he just wagged his tail, scooting over slightly on the couch. The sleeping bag looked a lot more inviting spread across the cushions than it had on the floor. “Fine. We can share. But no hogging.”

Scout’s tail thumped against the cushions as I slipped into the sleeping bag beside him. The sofa was surprisingly comfortable, and Scout’s warmth was oddly soothing. But my mind wouldn’t shut off, replaying Marcus’ intensity by the lake, Derek’s raw hunger in the woods, and now Caleb’s playful seduction in the kitchen.

I grabbed my phone, hitting Luke’s number before I could talk myself out of it.

“Twice in one day? Be still my heart,” Luke answered dramatically. “Did you finally decide to spill about those mysterious mountain men you were totally not swooning over this morning?”

“I wasn’t swooning,” I protested, though Scout’s judgmental side-eye suggested otherwise.

“Please. You get this breathy little voice when you’re hiding hot guy details. This morning you sounded like a Jane Austen heroine with asthma.”

I snorted. “You’re one to talk. Remember that barista you stalked for three months?”

“I did not stalk him! I just happened to need coffee at exactly the same time every day. For research purposes.”

“Uh-huh. And I suppose following that barista’s every social media account was also research?”

“We’re not talking about my perfectly normal caffeine appreciation. We’re talking about you and these brothers you were being suspiciously vague about. So? Did tall, dark, and mountain-y finally make a move?”

I bit my lip. “Well… things might have gotten a bit… complicated.”

“Complicated like that time you accidentally joined the anime club, or complicated like that time you drunk-texted your crush from Art History?”

“More like I might have kissed all three brothers. Separately! Not like, a weird brother sandwich situation or anything.”

There was a long pause. “I’m sorry, you what now?”

“In my defense, they’re really hot! Like, unfairly hot. It should be illegal to have that many attractive people in one family.”

“Let me get this straight,” Luke said slowly. “You’ve been in Murder Mountain for what, less than a week? And you’ve already made out with not one, not two, but three brothers?”

“Murder Mountain is a bit dramatic—”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Homicide Hills? The Peaks of Perpetration? Manslaughter Mesa?”

“You’ve been watching too many true crime documentaries.”

“And you’ve been kissing too many siblings! What happened to my shy, awkward best friend who once hid in a bathroom for an hour because his crush said hi?”

“He got ambushed by unreasonably attractive men with really nice lips?” I offered weakly.

“That’s it. I’m coming up there.”

“What? No!” I sat up so fast Scout gave an offended huff. “You can’t just abandon your new job because I have questionable taste in men!”

“Watch me. I’ll tell my boss it’s a family emergency. Technically, preventing my best friend from starring in the next season of Dateline counts as an emergency.”

“Luke, I’m serious. They’re not dangerous.” Even as I said it, I remembered that wild light in their eyes, the way they all seemed to be fighting something inside themselves. “They’re just… intense.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what that girl said about Ted Bundy. Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me they have a mysterious basement and a really nice boat.”

“Pretty sure they have a gym instead of a basement. And the only boat I’ve seen is the one in that fountain downtown.”

“Not helping your case here, Kai.”

“Look, just… wait until your new job approves some vacation time,” I bargained. “I start at the bookstore tomorrow. Let me at least establish myself as the quirky new employee before you burst in like my personal bodyguard. Besides, you just started there too.”

“Fine. But I want updates. Detailed, non-murderous updates. And if anything feels weird—”

“I’ll call you faster than you can say ‘true crime podcast.’”

“You better. And call Eomma. She’s been stress cooking all week. The whole house smells like kimchi and worry.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good. Now go dream about your murder-mountain men. But like, with one eye open.”

“Your concern is touching.”

“Someone has to keep you alive long enough to become a true crime documentary. Now seriously, call Eomma before she recruits a monastery to pray for your safe return.”

“Yes, sir.” I laughed. “Now go unpack your dramatic rescue bag.”

“It’s a perfectly reasonable rescue bag!” he protested. “And I’m keeping it packed. Just in case your mountain men turn out to be serial killers. Or worse—a cult of weirdly attractive lumberjacks.”

“Good night, Luke.”

“Call Eomma!” was his final command before hanging up.

Sighing, I stared at my phone. Last time I’d tried to cheat by calling Luke and having him pass the phone to her, she’d given me an hour-long lecture about how a good nephew calls his aunt directly. “If you have time to call Luke, you have time to call me!” she’d scolded. “What, you don’t love your Imo enough to use my number?” Now I knew better than to risk that particular guilt trip again.

Imo would still be awake—the woman treated sleep like an optional activity, somewhere below cooking and worrying on her priority list. Might as well get it over with.

I hit dial and braced myself.

“Kim Kai!” Imo’s voice filled my ear before I could even say hello, her accent just slightly stronger with worry. “A whole week without calling! Do you want me to die from stress?”

“Sorry, Imo.” I winced. I’d never told her how much it meant to me when she started adding ‘Kim’ to my name, like she had with Luke when they reclaimed her family name after his dad died. It was her way of claiming me as family, of saying I belonged with them just as much as if I’d been born a Kim. Four years of her fierce maternal love, endless supplies of homemade kimchi, and constant spiritual protection had made it real, even if it wasn’t official. Sometimes I thought she was more of a mom to me than… but no, I wasn’t going there tonight.

“I’ve been settling in—”

“Settling in where? That cottage… something’s not right about it. I’ve been getting strange energies. Let me come do a cleansing ritual.”

“The cottage is fine—”

“Don’t tell me ‘fine!’ I’m a shaman, remember? My grandmother was the most powerful mudang in Busan. I know these things.” She paused, switching to full mom-mode. “And why didn’t you take the banchan I made? I spent two days preparing everything!”

“The drive was too long, Imo. It would have spoiled—”

“Aish! You and your excuses! That’s why you need a proper cooler. I just ordered you one. Two-day shipping!”

“Imo, you don’t have to—”

“Already done! No arguments!” She sounded entirely too pleased with herself. “Next week I’m sending kimchi, proper containers. You’re too skinny. These small towns don’t know how to feed a growing boy properly.”

“I’m twenty-two, Imo,” I reminded her, thinking of Maria’s feast currently stuffed in my fridge. “Not exactly growing anymore.”

“You’ll always be my boy,” she said firmly, then her voice turned serious. “Kai… about that cottage. Are you sure everything’s okay? My readings have been… unsettling lately. Maybe I should come—”

“Everything’s fine, Imo. Really.”

“Hmm. Your voice sounds different. Like something’s happening.” She paused knowingly. “Or someone?”

I thought of the Stone brothers and their impossible kisses. “It’s nothing—”

“Nothing never sounds like that. Just… be careful, okay? Some places have old magic. Old spirits.” She clicked her tongue. “I’m packing some sage and protective charms. They’re going in with the cooler.”

“Imo—”

“No arguments! Now get some sleep. And call more often, or I really will come up there!”

“Yes, Imo. Good night.”

I settled back into the sleeping bag, Scout immediately curling around me like a furry space heater. My lips still tingled from Caleb’s kisses, but my heart felt warm from the calls. Between Luke’s protective streak and Imo’s aggressive feeding campaign, I wasn’t exactly alone out here.

Even if ‘here’ included three impossibly attractive brothers who kissed like they were starving for it but pulled away like they were afraid of devouring me whole.

Scout snuggled closer, and I wrapped an arm around him. Whatever was going on with the Stone brothers could wait until tomorrow. For now, I had a warm dog, a comfortable couch, and the strange feeling that despite everything, I was exactly where I was supposed to be.