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.”

It was the crash of a vase against a

vase or

It was Freya.

began to widen. Like the brittle edges of a chasm, her flesh began to crumble. More and more cracks formed, each one stemming from the bloody handprints Holly had left on her

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

body, a look of bewilderment

nothing! You're not powerful enough to kill me!” She half- shouted at Holly, who stood there impassively,

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

I realized she was right. As disturbing as it was, there was a sick sort of beauty behind watching the Blood Witch crack and

like Tristan was here with us, dealing one

as she opened her mouth and let loose a furious scream. Her jaw opened wider than it should

was deafening, sending a sharp wave of pain straight into my head. I barely noticed the difference as I slammed my hands over my ears. Breyona's wolf was several feet away, writhing in

at Holly with

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

her jaw becoming just as brittle as the rest of

there was

Witch

Holly had killed her.

her hair was ripped from her face.

empty. His blood staining the

been through, the only thing that passed between us was panic. That panic quickly turned to

to face the source of

Tristan, blonde hair

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

that fractured into a sob, one that caught the attention of Tristan and had

They were my father’s.

out at us. With the slickness of oil, they slid to Holly's

to either Tristan or our father. It was an amalgamation of

hackles lifted as her body coiled, seconds

her mouth. Several times she mouthed the words, but it wasn't until the

right thing.” She

had done, our father let out a furious roar that sent

melting into the night to escape the fury of the resurrected Vampire

as taken a step before faltering. The light in his eyes flickered, deep blue fading in and out like an old radio that couldn’t quite settle on one

their life forces

I warned her, a hand raised in her

would do no good,

head in my direction.

I couldn’t help

world, and you’re

The light in his eyes flickered

fell to his knees in the same spot Freya

“Such a disappointment.”

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

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

Breyona

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 face. Asher.My mind was so jumbled, my

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

wounded, the sight of him warmed

was, until a certain blonde came

stammered, struggling to find

smeared across his 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

He replied, not an

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