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.”

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

or a bone that

It was Freya.

in two, began to widen. Like the brittle edges of a chasm, her flesh began to crumble. More and more cracks formed,

across her chest and cleavage. A third inched up her neck, cleaving her jawline in

at her hands and the widening cracks flooding her body, a look of bewilderment on her face.Something in my gut told

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

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

body, noting how even in death his eyes were trained on my younger sister, I realized she was

like Tristan was here with us, dealing one final blow before

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

difference as I slammed my hands over my ears. Breyona's wolf was several feet away, writhing in pain

Holly with her

spread up her legs until her flesh crumbled in a sea of cream-colored shards, raining down into the grass. Freya screamed a second time, but this sound was one of agony. Everything from

becoming just as brittle as the rest of

seconds, there was nothing

Witch

Holly had killed her.

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

was empty. His blood staining the grass was the only thing

That panic quickly turned to

to face the source of Breyona’s

like Tristan,

The way he moved was

gust of air that fractured into a sob, one that caught the attention of Tristan and had him turning in our Direction. I recognized the

They were my father’s.

the slickness of oil,

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

hackles lifted as her body coiled, seconds away from

times she mouthed the words, but

right thing.”

father let out a furious roar that sent the shadows scattering in all

into the night to escape

blue fading in and out like an old radio that couldn’t quite settle on one station. The answer drifted through my

had bound their

warned her, a hand raised

him would do no good, not when he was already

head in my direction. A rueful smile

couldn’t help but marvel at the

power in the world, and

his eyes flickered once again, his

knees in the same

“Such a disappointment.”

flickered once, then twice, before sputtering out completely. Tristan, his body once more an empty vessel, fell to the

quickly followed, kneeling at his side. Still pale faced and trembling, a broken sob tore itself from her chest as she gingerly turned his body over and

Breyona whispered

touch at my back. The sensation of someone standing 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 a familiar

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

him

a certain blonde came to

struggling to

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

He replied, not an

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