Alpha Asher By Jane Doe

Chapter 119 – “You’re sure?”‘ I asked Mason, my irritation increasing with each missing piece thrust in front of my face.

Mason met Asher and I on our way to Carson’s parent’s house, My stomach was rumbling from the lack of food, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep anything down if I tried. Just the thought of facing the shattered remains of her family, it left my nerves frayed and exposed.

“Thanks, Mason.” I sighed, feeling that familiar pang of guilt as I looked into his mossy hazel eyes.

Asher’s phone began to ring. He frowned at the screen and turned away, placing the phone against his ear. The voice on the other end was muffled, but it was Mason I had my attention on.

“Don’t feel bad, Lola. We’ve both been busy these last two weeks.” His easygoing smile gave me some reassurance, but not much. “Once you start your training back up, we’ll see more of each other.”

“How has training been going?” I asked, feeling a little more lighthearted when some of the spark returned to his eyes.

“It’s harsher here in the capital. Your mate was going easy on us back then, y’know?” He grinned, and it was impossible not to smile back. Even with my stomach full of dread, Maya and I were both excited to keep up with our warrior training. He got into the Chevy Asher loaned him and chuckled, “Give me a call when you’re ready to join. There’s still some empty slots left, not that it matters since you’re Luna and all.”

Facing Carson’s parents, it was a sign of respect and something we were expected to do as Luna and Alpha. It was the circumstance and cause of d***h that soured things, which made my heart hammer mercilessly as we climbed the cement steps of Carson’s family home.

I wouldn’t run, even if the cowardly voice in my head begged me to do so.

I could feel pieces of myself, of the carefully constructed façade I had erected, cracking and chipping away as I looked -saw the hole that had been torn through her family, and through their lives.

Her parents were respectful and gracious to Asher and me, who had a hand in their daughter’s d***h, no matter how removed that hand might be. The grief in their eyes and hearts radiated from every pore, filling the house until the air was thick and heavy. Sounds were deeper, scents richer.

I couldn’t smile this time, knowing how flimsy and fake it would look. These people, who held pieces of their daughter within their chestnut hair, pale eyes, full lips, and dimpled cheeks–they would see right through it. Parents cursed with losing a child, they knew what fake smiles looked like.

The photos that lined the walls, framed in thick wood and covered in streak-free glass. Smiles and bright eyes, young baby -like faces that slimmed and lengthened with age. Missing teeth became full, toddler bob-cuts grew into long curls. They were whispers and echoes of the past carried throughout the future.

the last family photograph on the wall until

years. Carson, in her high-school graduation gown and her sister, wearing a dress of pink tulle. There would be

Instead, I channeled the kindling of rage that had ignited the moment

voice and sucked in another greedy gulp of fresh air, “why would the k****r post that photo of Carson and I?” I asked Asher on our drive to the house the

instead gave me time to sort through the hurricane in my head. The

solid way to vet Rowena or Cordelia. All we had to go on was my illusive gut feelings and Holly’s nightmares that she rarely talked about. Asher’s suspicion made him unnaturally

tense and rough in all the right places, it took away some of the anxiety that made my throat ache. “People like Carson’s parents, they respect our family. No matter what they’re going

accepted every bit of strength Asher could give me, and let it chase away the chill

I noticed a

made my stomach flutter and brought a smile

He made no movements as I brushed my lips against his, once and then twice, savoring the clash of sparks that tickled

into his toffee colored eyes, mesmerized by the shimmer of gold in

was sincere

doors and speeding away, giving into those instincts that told him to protect at all costs. He knew I’d fight, though. That there was no way in h**l he could control me, and even though it infuriated him, it was what kept us clawing at

mate struggles to control his instincts.” Rowena said in a voice void of judgement. I could smell the lavender wafting from the cup of tea in her hands and noticed a few small buds floating on the surface. She looked up at me from where she sat on the porch, reclined on the plush cushion of a wicker bench. “It’s what sets him apart–what makes him a ferocious

is

and protect. Too much can interfere with fate, and fate…she rarely likes to be meddled with.” Rowena shook her head,

fitting dress she wore, which was cinched at the waist with a thin belt and ended just above her knees. With the sleek heels and updo, she looked nothing like the pre

of dried herbs and petals. Nearly a dozen bundles sat on the kitchen table, bound in frayed

where the den was. Bookshelves lined the walls, circling an oak desk stacked with old

protect me

he’d do everything possible to keep me