Alpha Asher By Jane Doe

Chapter 240

Chapter 240

“My Queen.”

Tristan, my first in command. The man I considered both a friend and a worthy enemy. A Vampire I had once hated with every fiber of my being, only to now trust him with every beat of my heart.

He was dead.

Cold. Unmoving. Not a spark of light in his eyes.

He pushed me out of the way. He took the blow that was meant for me. He gave his life for me and its broke Freya’s spell.

Tristan loved me.

Holly’s head was bowed, her hair a dark veil that covered her face as she wept. Her hands were stained red with Tristan’s blood, but she didn’t seem to notice. She continued clutching at his shirt, whimpering, and whispering under her breath.

Without warning the blood ruby unleashed a blast of light that left me seeing spots. Holly ripped the blade from Tristan’s unmoving chest, dropping it as though it were poisonous.

Freya’s face had lost its triumphant luster, taking on a more sinister expression. It looked like her skin had been pulled too tightly

over her bones, stretching across her face in a way that emphasized every dip and curve. Her cheeks were just a touch too hollow, her eyes bulged from their sockets ever so slightly. Her teeth pressed at her lips, pushing them outward.

Her eyes flickered from the dagger to where I sat in the grass, the start of some sickening plan or idea taking form in her head.

Before she could react-before any of us could react, Holly stumbled to her feet.

I should’ve noticed something off when she went silent, no longer crying or whispering under her breath.

Long strands of inky hair hung over her face, partially shielding it from view. From where I sat, I managed to catch a single glimpse of her eyes. My stomach plummeted as I took in the haunted light that filled her entire being.

Holly, the sister that betrayed me, the one I craved since I was a little girl, unleashed a wail that made my hair stand on end.

For a split second, I thought she was going to attack me. After all, it was my life Tristan died for. Never could I have anticipated

Holly charging at her own mother, grabbing onto her dress with blood-stained hands as she screamed and snarled like a wild animal.

“You killed him, you killed him, you killed him! Holly wailed, her voice cracking several times over.

Freya’s lips pulled back from her face in a distasteful sneer. “Get off of me, girl. Have some class. We do not cry over men.”

She shoved Holly away, who stumbled backwards but didn’t fall. Her shoulders were hunched as she took in breath after breath.

Bloody handprints littered Freya’s skin from where Holly had made a grab for her.

Digging my fingers into the dirt, I pushed myself off the ground and onto my feet. I inched closer to Breyona, hesitating when I caught the unearthly glow of magic in Holly’s eyes.

Suddenly, the bloody handprints on Freya’s body began to smoke.

Freya noticed the same time as I did. Her bulging eyes went wide, so wide that I could see the network of veins running across them like spider webs. Unlike normal veins, these ones were black-tainted with darkness.

“You... You dare use blood magic on me?”

She scoffed at Holly. “l am your mother.”

Holly didn’t so much as blink at her mother.

Her lips barely moved, forming words that came out as a cold whisper.

“You're nothing but an empty vessel.”

what to make of the sound. It was the crash of a vase against a hard floor. The crack of

or

It was Freya.

as a hairline crack running down her arm, splitting her pale skin in two, began to widen. Like the brittle edges of a chasm, her

cleavage. A third inched up her neck,

look of bewilderment on her face.Something in my gut told me this

powerful enough to kill me!” She half- shouted at Holly, who stood there impassively, a

be as powerful as you, mother. You killed him, and it's his

his eyes were trained on my younger sister, I

was here with us, dealing one final

jaw opened wider than it should have, more cracks crawling up her

as I slammed my

She screeched, making a go at Holly with her arms

raining down into the grass. Freya screamed a second time, but this sound was one of agony. Everything from her kneecap down was gone, even the gown she wore had crumbled. Her arms went next, showering the earth and sinking deep into

becoming just as brittle as the rest of

there was nothing

Witch

Holly had killed her.

seemed to notice, turning so quickly her hair was ripped from her face. There was only one problem.

blood staining the grass was

between us was panic. That panic quickly turned to grim realization when Breyona let

to face the source

Tristan, blonde hair

wasn't him. The way he moved was off. Many times he'd

sucked in a sharp gust of air that fractured into a sob, one that caught the

They were my father’s.

darker than Tristan’s stared out at us. With the slickness of oil, they

do, Holly?” The voice that emerged didn't belong to either Tristan or

as her body coiled, seconds away

the words, but

thing.” She

father let out a furious roar that sent the

the tree’s, melting into the night to escape the fury of the resurrected

light in his eyes flickered, deep blue fading in and out like an old radio that couldn’t quite settle on one station. The answer drifted through my head, carried on

bound their life

I warned her, a hand raised

would do no good, not

his head in my direction. A rueful smile crossed

couldn’t help but marvel at the

in the world, and you’re too much of a coward to

to take a step but stumbling as he did so. The light in his

in the

“Such a disappointment.”

flickered once, then twice, before sputtering out completely. Tristan, his body once more

side. Still pale faced and trembling, a broken sob tore itself from her chest as she gingerly turned his body over and laid him flat against

Breyona whispered

close by was like an electrical pulse to my already shot nerves. Tree's blurred into one as I spun around, only to find myself steadied by

wound on his head that looked freshly healed. There was a lot of blood, but most of it had dried. It ran down his sculpted cheek, past his rigid jawline and down his neck. A wound like that would’ve killed a human, but not

of him warmed me from the

a certain blonde came

struggling to

a look of peace on his face that I hadn’t seen in months. He held my face in his hands, running his thumbs over my cheeks.

an ounce of

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