Alpha Asher By Jane Doe

Chapter 212

We left that day for the safe haven, not bothering to pack or say goodbye to our families.

It didn’t matter that I was on the verge of passing out, not when the place we promised would remain safe had been attacked. There was no more time to wait. I needed to use my magic to protect them, and I needed to do it now.

Asher gave me enough of his blood to keep me standing up right. The only pit stop we made before peeling out of town was to pick up Tristan and Giovanni. Now that the sun was finally setting, they could safely leave the house.

I cried out with relief when Giovanni passed two blood bags into my hands and quickly tore into them. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it would have to be.

We were just under a mile away and already I could tell something had happened. Smoke lingered in the air, crisp and heavy like someone had started a very large bonfire. Even coasting down the main road, the gouges in the forest were visible. Trees were knocked down and bushes trampled into the dirt. It looked like a pack of very large beasts had charged through at full force.

I wasn’t at all prepared for what I saw when we arrived.

There wasn’t a single part of me that thought the safe haven would survive an attack without any damage, but beyond all reasonable belief, I had clung to the hope that the damage would be minimal.

We rolled down the main road intersecting the town slowly, giving me plenty of time to scour every single shred of damage the witches had done.

From the number of houses that had scorch marks licking up the sides, it was clear Ember had been here.

So many of them were crumbling, halfway torn down with families hiding inside, clinging to the shadows as the last hints of sunlight faded.

It grew worse as we neared the center, so much worse.

Bodies were lined in neat rows, covered in white sheets stained grey with ash. There weren’t many, perhaps only a dozen, but it didn’t matter. Those twelve carried the same weight as a hundred as a thousand, would.

The sidewalks and street were streaked with black marks, kissed by Ember’s flame as she pillaged the town. Cars were turned over, some halfway crumpled and smoking. The stench of burnt motor oil hung in the air, mixing with the scent of death.

Tristan cursed, and Giovanni made a sound of agreement.

“Fuck, my mother and father are here.”

I craned my head to stare at him in the

back seat. If we weren’t surrounded by so much carnage and death, I might’ve laughed at how absurd he looked crammed in the backseat with Giovanni.

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked. Giovanni snorted. “If you think Tristan is unpleasant, wait until you meet his mother.”

I glanced at Tristan, waiting for him to snap or explode on Giovanni, but instead he actually nodded in agreement.

There was nothing to say that would ease their discomfort. In truth, I wasn’t too worried about Tristan’s family or what opinions his mother would have. Seeing what happened here with my own eyes, it outweighed everything else.

Asher’s hand grazed my own, his fingers sliding in between mine. I glanced away from the carnage and into his eyes, not realizing how close I was to plummeting until I felt his presence glide down the mate-bond and into my troubled mind.

‘It doesn’t matter how many times they destroy this place. We will rebuild.’ He promised, his eyes severe and set in stone.

More than anything, I wanted it to be enough, but it wasn’t.

stop. The slam of car doors. was quiet in comparison to everything else, drowned out by the weight of the stares falling on our

of brown curls

tangled her fingers in his hair and let out her sigh

we all had the same expression on our

community center that served as a sort of Town Hall. Children clutching ash stained stuffed animals padded behind their mother’s and father’s, hiding behind legs and torso’s as they

safe haven we’ve heard so much

eyes, something private passing between the two of them.

as a warning and not

the woman with soft blonde hair and an

matched perfectly with her powder blue dress and black pumps. There wasn’t a single curl on her head that was out of place.

my face, recognition and disdain melting into one festering pool that I did not

it?” She purred, the obliviousness in her voice as flimsy

spared her a glance.

why don’t you show some goddamn respect and call her by her title?”

threatening baritone, I tuned out everything else. Tristan’s mother’s reply was shrill and fell on deaf ears. One after another, emotions impaled me in the

to rubble in the

to a whisper that wasn’t nearly quiet enough to be an

Asher through mind-link, feeling

woman said was meaningless, and empty words were not worth starting

Tristan. His hair was much darker, but his deep-set eyes, angular nose, and pouty lips were identical. The little girl was the spitting image of Tristan’s mother, only younger and not nearly as sour. She waved timidly

person to person, he was observing everything carefully. They clung to my face the most, and I wondered if he was naturally this curious

you didn’t have

mother was either genuinely oblivious or had a talent for ignoring the things she found unimportant, because she didn’t seem to notice the tension in the air

through over half of the houses here. The rough asphalt beneath my feet

was suspended in time, an observer to the damage and death the witches had caused, all

“Not very safe, is it? What a pity. I was so hoping we could live here, but I won’t risk your sister’s life when it’s clear this place is undergoing attacks every other day. She might not be

he wasn’t looking at

“Lucinda.”

assumed was Tristan’s father approached. His hand was on his wife’s shoulder, but he wasn’t looking at her

The

but it was faint, muffled by white noise like everything

quickly taken over, but now that I was paying more attention, it seemed darker than normal. Many of the streetlights were destroyed, but even the few that

of a million little

crawling over every piece of this earth that the moonlight failed to reach, the shadows writhed. They crawled beneath smashed cars and into

circled around my

her tongue is not one of them.” Tristan’s father said in a calm voice, one without the disdain and malice his wife’s held.

scowled

we do. Seeing it like this is not easy for her.”

my feet with eyes of ice. Her lips twisted and puckered, deepening the fine

few tendrils of shadow got too close for

cracked as my head snapped