Alpha Asher by Jane Doe (Alpha Asher & Lola)
Chapter 200
There wasn’t much of a sleepover after that, though it wasn’t for a lack of trying.
Ca*s*sidy and Clara could feel the tension in the room and knew from the looks on our faces that what we talked about hadn’t been good. Soon after wrapping up, Breyona came downstairs, her eyes raw and red with the opened envelope clutched in her hand.
I knew Breyona needed space, but I also knew that leaving her alone wasn’t the right thing to do. It didn’t take much convincing to get her to say, but I think deep down she wanted someone to confide in, someone who understood.
After promising Ca*s*sidy I’d show up to training tomorrow, she and Kendrick left, following Mason and Clara. The four planned on going out for drinks, and I was glad they were able to continue their night. Staying here would’ve just meant drowning in all of our foul moods.
Holly decided to stay, and I found I was genuinely glad she did, even if she had to leave early the next day for a therapy appointment.
Late in the night, Breyona, Holly, and myself curled up on the ma*s*sive bed Asher had made for us, swapping stories in the dim lights dr*a*p*ed around the beds canopy.
Breyona talked about the letter her parents had left her, breaking down halfway through as sobs wracked her body. I’d been stunned when Holly wrapped her arms around Breyona and I, hugging us both. I’d never gotten close enough to her to notice before, but her scent was light and held hints of elderberry and rose.
The letter written by her parents was a goodbye of sorts, a piece of themselves too sad to dare read out loud. Just hearing about it made my eyes water and fill with tears. I pictured my own mom, and all of the good and bad memories between us.
They had told her how much they loved her, how proud they were, and how she’d never be alone, not for one second. Every step of the way, every milestone in her life, they would be there.
Hearing Breyona talk about the letter prompted Holly to mention her own parents. I’d never pressed the topic with her out of fear that she’d shut down and close me off even more than I already was, but as she talked I listened with unbridled interest.
It had been a padded, golden-plated prison she’d lived in during her time with our father, and while she’d grown to hate every second of it, there was a time where she wanted nothing more than to make him proud. Only when she realized how impossible that was, did she finally crave true freedom.
She had a longing for the mother she’d never met, the one currently trying to enslave me, but it was tainted with disappointment. Nothing would change the Blood Witch’s path, not even the daughter she’d never met.
After hearing Holly talk about her hopes, dreams, and pain, I felt I trusted her enough to talk about what I’d just learned. I hadn’t realized how much I needed this, venting in the dark to two people who I trusted, who understood in their own ways.
It’s a good thing I had because this week had barely just begun.
Days passed by in a blur, each one melting into the next. The entire pack was tense, all of us going back to our normal routines as if everything wasn’t falling apart. Between the lingering stares and whispers whenever I went out in public, it felt like everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the next shoe to drop-or the next murder to happen.
Each day I bounced between warrior training, and witch training, spending what little time I could manage with friends and family, and stuck in meetings with Zeke, Asher, and a few others as we tried to figure out where the witches were reconvening.
Asher had left a few men to scout the town the witches had once occupied, but none had showed up since. Just yesterday, he’d sent his Beta, who had been on leave taking care of his mate and newborn son, to Alpha Bran’s pack to act as Alpha in his stead.
Other groups were sent out to visit neighboring human towns. Clara and Mason went with most of them, mainly because of Clara’s ability to tell if there was any magic cast on the area.
All week, I kept up with practicing Conjuration, and as easy as it was becoming, I was still utterly exhausted after every attempt. I’m sure it didn’t help that there was a new stressor involved, one that had me questioning every move I made in case I somehow pulled magic from the wrong source.
Cordelia a*s*sured me that I’d know if I were drawing on dark magic, but the fear still remained.
Halfway through the week, Chris showed up. Per our old tradition, I stayed hidden as he entered the training room, greeting an entire cl@ssfull of students. When he turned to introduce himself, I launched my attack.
The old man still had k*il*ler senses, because not a second after I sounded my battle cry, he’d pivoted on his heel and struck. We fought for what felt like fifteen minutes, neither one of us yielding until Emilia came in and began clapping. A truce was called, but I know I would’ve won had we kept going for just a few more minutes. Funny enough, Chris said the same thing about himself.
It was Thursday night when something changed-when the other shoe finally dropped.
The shadows had been restless for hours, thrashing and writhing in the forest the moment the sun had gone down. I could hear them whispering from where I stood on the balcony just outside our bedroom.
Asher had his arms wrapped around my waist, his damp hair tickling my cheek as he spoke, but I wasn’t listening.
I could hear them. They were trying to work up the courage to come closer, to speak to me directly. Their slippery little voices had grown in angst after I’d learned it was my family line that created them, and that it hadn’t been conjuration that allowed me to control them without making deals, but the fact that they came from my magic.
Our bedroom darkened as the shadows had finally come to a consensus. The lamp on our bedside table, which was currently on, began to flicker. When it sputtered out, cloaking the room in absolute darkness, I noticed the shadowy m@ssthat had appeared.
It hovered over the carpet, writhing and twitching as it condensed into the form of a man.
Asher stood nearby, his arm around my waist as he stared at the shadows. He was suppressing his surprise, but I felt it seep through the bond. It was still jarring, even after all this time, seeing them up close and hearing their dark, melodic voices.
Newcomers, they have arrived…
The shadows whispered, dozens of voices overlapping one another as they spoke almost in tandem.
“Who has?” Asher demanded, narrowing his golden eyes into a glare.
We do not speak to you, Cursed Alpha.
Every muscle in my body tensed, right down to my fingers and toes. I locked eyes with my mate, both of us wondering if we’d heard the same thing and if we had, what it could possibly mean.
“Who has arrived?” I asked them. “Tell me, now.”
Vampires.
Their hiss lingered in the air.
“They’ve arrived here? At the pack?”
Not here. Safe-haven.
I s*cked in a sharp breath and looked at Asher, but he was already mid-mind-link with Zeke and the others. Weeks ago, I’d asked the shadows to watch over the safe haven, the town we were still in the process of creating for the Vampire’s. I wasn’t sure they’d actually listen, but they did. This was the first piece of news I’d gotten from them, and already I knew we needed to act.
There was only one other I’d given the location to, someone whose survival would be a testament to my newfound magic.
Deacon.
“Everyone’s up and getting ready. We’ll leave within the hour and get there before sunrise.” Asher grunted.
His posture was tense, and his jaw locked tight. It wasn’t the newcomers that had him like this, but what the shadows had called him. I placed my hand on his bicep, the sparks dancing between us, tickling our nerve endings.
“You called Asher, Cursed Alpha. Why?” I snapped, hardening my voice as I turned on the humanoid shadow. “I demand you tell me.”
He is cursed.
I kept pressing, fearful they’d vanish and leave us with more questions than answers. “Who cursed him?”
One you trust has betrayed you. Betrayed you all.
“How can we break it?” I asked, desperation laced in my voice. Asher’s arm around my waist was all that held me back from charging at the shadows, as if that would do any good.
What’s done, is done.
Magic stirred in my gut, but before I could use it the lamp on our bedside table flicked on, and the shadows vanished. A whisper lingered in the air; one I somehow knew only I could hear.
You cannot ssstop him, ma*s*sster. Through carnage and death, the curse will be fulfilled.