Alpha Asher and Lola novel Chapter 155

Read Alpha Asher by Jane Doe Chapter 155 – “Oh, these are good.” Cassidy’s moan sounded from the kitchen, followed by Breyona’s laughter.

I squinted against the early morning sun that peered through the c******s and padded down the hall, catching snippets of their conversation the closer I neared.

“Aren’t they? You don’t know him, but the recipe belongs to a grumpy vamp named Tristan. It took me days to figure out how to make them since he’d always grumble when I asked.”‘ The sizzle of something cooking in a pan followed Breyona’s soprano and filled the air with something both sweet and savory.

“Tristan knows how to cook?” I asked skeptically, leaning against the door jamb as both she-wolves spotted me lurking.

Cassidy was perched on one of the island stools eating a bowl of oatmeal and nibbling on a rolled-up pancake, her strawberry blonde hair a halo around her shoulders.

“Oh, he does. Gio was complaining about it a few days ago while cooking dinner. He said something about Tristan making his family recipes better than his nonna.” Breyona scrunched her nose and turned back to the omelet sizzling away on the pan. She said over her shoulder, “I can’t believe how nervous I am to meet his family. Usually I don’t care so much what other people think of me, but I can’t seem not to care.”

I glanced down at the eggs simmering away and held back a frown. I’d have to sneak a bag of blood and some sugary cereal when the two of them left. Not that there was anything wrong with the omelet, but my appetite had been changing since becoming Vampire Queen. The sudden chime of the doorbell had me spinning around, but the figure standing beyond the frosted glass was distorted.

“Probably the newspaper boy.” Cassidy shrugged and scooped another spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth.

“They’d be insane not to like you. You’re the total package.” I smirked at Breyona before crossing the foyer to the front door.

“Of course, you’re right. How could I forget?” Her laughter trickled into the foyer, along with her reply to Cassidy. “You still get newspapers delivered around here?”

“Asher’s Dad tried to get rid of it a while ago. We have a website-even an app that broadcasts pack news across the country, but some of the older members were totally against it. They liked the way things were, so he kept it.” The warmth that Cassidy had for Asher’s family was laced within her every word.

My stomach dropped when I opened the door and heard Cassidy ask, “Your old Alpha wouldn’t have done the same, I’m assuming?”

Oh, this wasn’t good.

“Tyler would’ve done what he wanted, and lock anyone who disagreed in the nearest cell.” Breyona replied, and I could hear the grimace in her voice.

Cassidy made a sound of disgust, “…sounds like a grade ‘A’ wolf right there.”

Her laugh was as dry and brittle as my own when I snatched the newspaper off the porch and glared down at the bold printed headliner.

“Well, you can read all about it on the front page.” A snarl tore past my lips, making Breyona jump in a way I would’ve thought were odd if I hadn’t been seeing red. Ignoring Cassidy’s widened eyes, I slapped the newspaper down on the counter between them.

It took several seconds for both to read and process not only the headline, but the two photos printed in bright coloring–so vivid I felt like I were still there.

“…you need to get a hold of Asher…now.” Cassidy paled, dropping her spoon into her oatmeal. It was quickly swallowed whole by the brown sugar and cinnamon flecked sludge.

“Even Asher can’t fix this…what’s done is done.” Breyona frowned and leaned against the counter.

“It’s not about him fixing it, it’s about Lola getting to him before he finds the wolves responsible and kills them.” I could taste the urgency in her voice and forced myself not to panic. My resolve only faltered a little when her sea-green eyes met mine, bright as they were honest. “You know he’ll use their deaths to make a statement-and from what I do know, the last thing you want is a public e*******n.”

I narrowed my eyes at the perfectly timed photograph of myself and Clint Armstrong facing off against one another, right at the scene of his son’s m****r. Breyona and Mason stood off to the side, both glowering with fists clenched. My chin was angled upwards as I met his defiant stare, and even though I was several feet shorter than him, there was something about the way I stood that felt more threatening-or maybe it was just my confidence and over inflated ego.

Either way, someone had taken a photo that morning and I wanted to know who. As for the second, I had an inkling on the person responsible.

Seeing Tyler’s arm draped over my shoulder made my stomach clench, his bleached teeth and freshly plucked eyebrows now grating where I’d once found them charming and irrevocably handsome.