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.”

make of the sound. It was the crash of a vase against a hard floor.

it wasn’t a vase or a bone that created

It was Freya.

her pale skin in two, began to widen. Like the brittle edges of a chasm,

her chest and cleavage. A

widening cracks flooding her body, a look of bewilderment

to kill me!” She half- shouted at Holly, who

to be as powerful as you, mother. You killed him,

I realized she was

with us, dealing one final blow before his soul

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

barely noticed the difference as I slammed my hands

a go at Holly with her

sea of cream-colored shards, raining down into the grass. Freya screamed a second time, but this sound was one of agony. Everything from

her knee's, her arms gone and shoulders quickly eroding. The screaming stopped when her face caved in, her jaw becoming just as brittle as the rest of

there was nothing

Witch was

Holly had killed her.

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

empty. His blood staining the grass

through, the only thing that passed between us was panic. That panic quickly turned to grim realization when Breyona let

to face the source of Breyona’s

like Tristan,

on two feet as he scanned his surroundings, but it wasn't him. The way he moved was off. Many times he'd look down at his hands, spreading

the attention of Tristan

They were my father’s.

With the slickness of oil, they slid to Holly's face, registering the grief that painted her delicate features in

do, Holly?” The voice that emerged didn't belong to either Tristan or our father. It was

body coiled, seconds away from

to her mouth. Several times she mouthed the words, but

thing.”

let out a furious roar that sent the shadows scattering

fled from the tree’s, melting into the night to escape the fury

like an old radio that couldn’t quite settle

their life forces

I warned her, a hand

do no good, not when he was already

father turned his head in my direction. A rueful smile crossed

that I couldn’t help but

the world, and you’re

attempting to take a step but stumbling as he did so. The light in his eyes flickered once again, his voice

his knees in the

“Such a disappointment.”

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

and trembling, a broken sob tore itself from her chest as she gingerly turned his body over and laid him flat against the

Breyona

as I spun around, only to find myself steadied by a familiar face. Asher.My

It ran down his sculpted cheek, past his rigid jawline and down

of him warmed me

was, until a certain blonde came

struggling to find the

cheek, there was 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. in slow circles, a glimmer of joy

not an ounce of emotion in

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