Alpha Asher By Jane Doe

Read Alpha Asher [by Jane Doe] Chapter 41 – Mason’s P.o.v

Everything hurts—Quite literally.

There were moments when I had convinced myself I had some semblance of control. I was now beginning to realize, I never had control. The illusion of control kept me sane for so long, and it’s absence was tearing me apart.

i shuffled through the thundering club, keeping my eyes glued to Breyona.

I refused to look at the dancing couples–Refused to acknowledge the smell of lut and sx in the air. It was all too painful, resurfacing images I had spent a year trying to forget.

I refused to look back at Lola—Ignoring the insane urge that always came over me when she was around.

Lola—A little bundle of fire and spice, but her heart was still pure.

She hadn’t known it at the time; but the first time we trained together, my heart was hers.

I never expected to feel that particular emotion again, convinced it was gone from my heart for good.

My wolf tried to convince me, tried to make me see reason but soon he too was swept away. What chance could we have when two other men already craved her heart?

She was not our mate, her mate was out in the world somewhere. What right did I have to take that from her? Could I truly expect her to pick me?

Nonetheless, I couldn’t continue ignoring how I felt. Lola had been the first one to grab my heart after what happened last year.

We had moved from the pack a year ago. My Grandfather on my mother’s side became ill. He was an old man, so his condition wasn’t surprising.

I know it sounds harsh; but my Grandfather wasn’t a good man. He spent his life molding my Mom into a submissive she-wolf, beating any form of disobedience from her. Maybe that was why I fell for Lola, her strong will remained unbroken even with everything life threw at her.

I could only stand idle while my Mom cared for the man that caused her years of trauma and pain. The sight was sickening, driving me from the house at every chance I had.

We lived in a small shack, right on the outskirts of the city. This gave me ample opportunities to go out and find something to do.

For the time being, I found myself a job. It wasn’t anything flashy, just a simple job at a family owned sandwich shop. This got me out of the house, and gave me some spare money. My Grandfather had a hefty will, leaving everything he owned to my Mom. She was numb with shock for hours after hearing the news.

I suppose somewhere in his sick and twisted heart, a part of him loved his daughter.

Months had passed, my Grandfather continued clinging to life. A stubborn man for the entirety of his life, of course he would fight d***h.

Grandfather’s life at every chance. Dad couldn’t stand the pain he caused his

satisfaction could be gained from k*****g a

complied, and somehow found the strength to be in the same room

while we lived with him. I think he knew my Dad would end his

ended late into the night, but I didn’t mind. Night had always

eighteen three days ago, accepting the crudely made birthday cake from my Mom with a goofy smile. Mom had never been good at cooking; that

my seventh birthday I insisted Mom make my cake. Year after year, I watched my Mom’s face light up as my Dad made my birthday cakes. Her eyes

better than Dad’s. He knew of course, but couldn’t stand to see his mate unhappy. The two of us protected my Mom in every way we could, making up for the worst

was mingled with the smell of smoked meat and freshly baked bread from the Deli. The scent of daisy’s and cotton

The delicious smell grew stronger as I turned

gruff voice

in her tone. “You know I don’t answer

a run as I

pushed against the brick wall of the alley way, her face contorted into a glare

man looked amused, his eyes glinting as he stared the little

f**k you up if you don’t

up.” The gruff man chuckled, “You still need Felix to fight

next week you’ll see.” The woman

weird. It seemed like the two knew eachother, hated yet tolerated one

spoke through me before I had the chance

too late to change

at the woman against

backed off from the woman, turning his deadly gaze

escaped my lips, the mans

fight; some form of confrontation from

turned to the woman one last

down the alley way with a huff. His fists were clenched at

you alright?” I frowned,

always imagine what it will be like to find your

gold. Obsidian hair ran down to her shoulders, thousands of spiral curls grazed against her throat. Ruby red lips, long eyelashes and

he’s harmless.” The woman shrugged, a hand placed on her round hips.

dancing, a smile playing at my lips