Alpha Asher by Jane

Read Alpha Asher [by Jane Doe] Chapter 91 – Three days, or possibly four–I wasn’t entirely sure, but the monotony of being locked in this room was slowly eating away at me. The silver cuff on my wrist kept me from mind-linking Asher, and kept Maya at bay. My skin under the cuff was sore, red and irritated as though I had a rash.

My days and nights began to switch, s******g with my already questionable sleeping pattern–not that I expected much sleep when my Father was somewhere lurking about. Tristan came to the door once every couple of hours, a tray of food and a small cup of blood in his hands. He needn’t worry that I might run, as I was already too weak from the constant contact with silver. I was practically human, making Tristan and the rest of the Vampire’s much stronger than me.

It was blatantly obvious the Vampire’s weren’t used to human or half-human guests, as the food was horribly lacking. Gelatinous oatmeal and often small packs of crackers or cookies. I wasn’t ashamed to say I downed the cup of blood he had given me at each meal, though it worried me where it might have come from.

Each day I’d ask Tristan when the Vampire King would finally see me, when would Breyona and Giovanni be released–each time he said ‘soon’, annoyingly cryptic. It gave me more than enough time to think over Tristan’s sudden loyalty switch. He had told me once that he had his own plans, that he never wished for the Werewolf species to be eradicated. Does that mean I suddenly trusted him? Not at all, but I needed whatever allies I could find.

I leapt from the bed as I heard footsteps echo down the hallway, followed by the thick wooden door to my bedroom holding cell open. Tristan stood in the doorway, this time without a tray in his hands. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and hushed.

My stomach was in knots as I followed him down the hallway, towards the back of the warehouse. Tristan was silent the entire time, his shoulders tense at what was to come. We stopped in front of a thick set of double doors, the wood smooth and flawless to the touch. Two Vampire’s stood on either side of the door, their dark eyes never once straying from where they stared.

My eyes bounced around the room as the doors swung open, revealing a room I had once been to. It was the room I visited when my Father used the shadows to call me to him. A large maroon sectional was sat in front of a large fire place, a thick Persian rug under our feet. A small bar carried decanters of suspicious looking scarlet liquid. Sitting on the sectional, with one of his arms draped over the back, was my Father–the Vampire King.

I had seen my Father once before, but this time was different. I hadn’t seen him in person, not truly. The aura that surrounded him was dark and suffocating, like walking into a sauna. My lungs struggled to breathe in the thick air, and my heartrate sky rocketed. The mop of styled raven hair on his head was identical to my own, right down to his bright eyes, which stared into the flames roaring in the fireplace.

I was hyperaware at how the shadows in the room slithered, hiding in the darkness as they surrounded us. I could taste their excitement, their interest in what was about to happen.

“Sit, Lola.” My Father all but commanded, never once turning to look me in the eye.

Tristan stood off to the side, leaning against the fireplace mantle as I trailed over to the couch. I sat as far away from my Father as I could get, holding my ground as he turned and looked into my eyes.

I always thought his eyes would be empty, lacking any hint of a soul. I was wrong, his eyes weren’t empty. They were filled with a burning hunger that would bring the world to its knees, an anger that consumed every sliver of compassion or conscience. Looking into my Father’s eyes taught me something, evil doesn’t just pop into existence–evil is born, bred, and taught.

I tried to imagine my Father as a child, eyes full of wonder and happiness. I didn’t bother looking for any sliver of good within him, as I knew it had all been smothered by that vicious fire burning in his eyes, but he had not been born evil. Life warped him, changed him into this monster–and not once had he resisted.

gotten from my Mom, and I wondered how she stomached raising me. How could she look into my eyes for all those years and not see the evil, twisted mate

I need you here, Lola?” He asked, those luminous eyes staring at me, slicing away the

without a doubt that with my help, he would achieve his goal. He would never rest

need a Queen.” I repeated the words that plagued my mind for months

Vampire King for too long. My Father scoffed, though the action lacked emotion. He looked me over for a minute, running his eyes down my hair, my face with his speculatory gaze. I was sure he saw what I did, himself reflected in

I cannot trust, one I cannot control?” My Father asked, one of his dark eyebrows lifting as he stared at me.

I wracked my brain for every last detail I remembered. Grandma had taught me the history of witches, though not much was known anymore. Most of the

I admitted, “There used to be a lot of witches, but many lines died off or went into

they went into hiding?” My Father pressed, and seemed to be amused at my lack

I don’t.” I

finally able to step into the light.” My Father continued, “Vampires have been at the bottom of the food-chain for too long, letting the humans think they actually held some

does this have to do with me?” I asked, fighting to take the edge out of my voice. Before leaving the room, Tristan had warned me not to

oily and serpent-like.

side.” My Father began, and I knew he was talking about my Mother. I wanted to stop him, to deny that she would’ve ever had a part in his plans, but Tristan’s firm look stopped me in my tracks. “I told her of the child

the mate-bond against her to conceive me, that much I expected. What I couldn’t understand was how he thought that child was me. Witches were all but extinct, and I had never seen one in real

I shook my

the shadow of the crackling fire wavered against his alabaster skin. “My Mother was the last in a long and ancient line of witches. She was Half-Vampire, and had been sought out by my Father for a very specific purpose. The Magic in her blood-line skipped a generation, and only seemed to show in the women

my ears, to ignore everything he was telling me like a child would. Tristan’s firm gaze was the only thing keeping me sane, reminding me to remain calm, to remain respectful. My

listen closely, Lola.” My Father spoke clearly, enunciating each word so that I might commit them to memory. “Do not overthink your purpose here. You will comply to my terms, or be eradicated with the rest of the Werewolves. I won’t for one second believe you

my gut twist at

the Vampire King. I was sure he knew about Sean, but I refused to speak his name, to give the Vampire King another person to use against me. My

Lola.” My Father replied, lifting his hand to wave at Tristan. “You would be amazed

Tristan left the room, returning a moment later with someone in tow. Every muscle in my body stiffened, every joint locked as I looked into the eyes of a girl no older than eighteen. My hair, my Father’s hair sat on her head in long, raven-colored waves. Her face was soft and round like my own, her cheekbones high and lashes long. The only difference were our eyes. I had gotten my eyes from our Father, where the girl must have gotten them from her Mother–whoever that might