Alpha Asher and Lola novel Chapter 241

Chapter 241

Half an hour later, I stumbled away from

Tristan’s body and into Asher’s warm embrace.

My legs had been reduced to jelly, and my magical reserves drained so low they might never recover. I could only imagine how much blood and rest it would take before they were back to normal again.

Asher’s voice washed over my shoulders, his breath fluttering against my cheek, but the blood roaring in my ears kept me from hearing.

I’d poured everything into Tristan- everything.

Holly and Giovanni remained rooted in place, searching for any sign of life whether it be a heartbeat or an influx of breath. The inky strands of my half-sister’s hair cascaded down Tristan’s shoulder, hanging off the side of the table he’d been placed onto.

With her ear placed against his chest, she waited and waited.

I understood her worry. Really, I did. Her mother had to sacrifice ten witches just to lock my father’s soul into my body. While I didn’t have ten innocent people to slaughter, I did have something else on my side.

That otherworldly and very much feminine presence that had taken over just minutes before, allowing me a split second of control when I needed it most, hadn’t left me. It was still here, bubbling in my veins and wrapping itself around my body in a shroud of silk.

As I used it to strengthen my own magic, I swore I heard its whisper ring in my ears before vanishing completely, melting into the night sky and the stars that watched over head.

“…just this once.’ It had said.

When it left, and I felt its absence ringing in my soul, I whispered a quick thank you to the Moon Goddess.

During the walk back to the house, Asher recounted what happened the moment I slipped away. Half of the story he told with words, while the other came in the form of memories dancing down the mate-bond.

Witches had poured into the pack, concealed by Angelica’s twin sister, who had also survived the battle. In fact, the two of them were currently in the living room, watching television like two normal children. The witches had split into groups, some attacking the town while others came to the house, beckoned by Cassidy’s call.

Those who went into town were met with not only warriors, but pack members who took it upon themselves to defend their own.

Even my dad, who was now safe with Flora visiting grandma in the hospital, had joined the battle.

As for Cassidy herself, I witnessed her death in Asher’s memory, and relished every gruesome second.

The witch that had slithered her way into the pack at the ripe age of seven years old, replacing the real Cassidy who had been kidnapped and murdered days prior, was torn limb from limb by the same men she’d befriended and betrayed: Brandon and Asher.

The two of them had banded together and worked as one for the first time in over ten years. Cassidy might have been responsible for tearing them apart, but in the end, she’d also been what brought them back together.

With Asher’s arms wrapped around my torso, so tightly that nothing could dare pull us apart, we waited in the silence for life to blossom in Tristan’s chest.

It came with a quiet thud, so soft that it could’ve belonged to a bird perching on a branch, or the first droplet of rain colliding with the hard ground. Holly’s ragged gasp told me it was neither of those things.

One beat turned into two, which turned into ten, and then fifty.

An entire minute had passed when Tristan’s chest moved, and a gust of oxygen surged into his lungs. The sound was deafening, a clash of cymbals that made my ears ring and eyes water. It was the sound of a soul awakening, taking control of a body that should’ve belonged to the earth.

The wound in his chest had been hard to heal. It was a wound created by dark magic; one I knew would leave a terrible scar.

Tristan’s eyes fluttered open, and instead of the bright blues that belonged to my father, I was met with a familiar shade just a few touches lighter.

“Holly.” Her name fell from his mouth, quiet like a prayer.

The others remained outside, helping the warriors and Asher’s Beta dispose of the dead. I’d been too focused on Tristan to notice the bodies, but from the scent of blood and decay, I could tell there were plenty. Breyona, Giovanni, Asher, and I remained inside, witnessing this reunion between Holly and Tristan-between two people who clearly loved one another, but never once acted on it.

Tristan’s hands rested on Holly’s face, quickly becoming wet with tears. Holly’s shoulders shook, and while her hair created a barrier between us and them, I could still see the raw emotion playing across her face.

I hadn’t realized I was crying myself until Asher’s soft lips grazed my cheek and the rough pad of his thumb smoothed over my face.

“Go to them.” He whispered.

By the time I approached, having taken a moment to compose myself, Tristan had his sights set on Giovanni. Breyona watched with the same awe and anxiety as I did, both of us wondering if this would turn into a reunion or another fight.

Giovanni stared down at Tristan with eyes of molten amber, nearly pitch black until the light hit them just right. I never could tell what Giovanni was feeling, and now was no different.

“You did good, brother.” Giovanni admitted, emotion seeping through the rough cracks in his voice.