Read Alpha Asher by Jane Doe Chapter 150 – “You tell anyone, and you won’t see a cent of your inheritance when I’m gone.” Grandma narrowed her eyes, but the frown that tugged at her lips made the flimsy threat ineffective.

“I didn’t even know we had an inheritance.” I snorted as I stood at her side in the kitchen.

Like I had hundreds of times when we lived in the little cottage, I began gathering the d***y bowls and pans that collected in the sink as she baked. A thin layer of silence settled over us, one that reminded me of long days training with Chris and cherry pies that sat on the windowsill to cool.

“So, you don’t want me to tell anyone you were here or that you were here and using magic?”

She swatted at me with a rag until I chuckled and moved away from the sink. Breyona finished putting the rest of the dried dishes away and perched herself on the edge of the counter, her eyes curious and eager. Her obvious love of magic made a whisper of a smile cross my face.

“No, it’s not that. It turns out Rowena was right; I’ve been using magic to make my baking better, and for all these years…” Her features contorted into a scowl that made my chest begin to throb. She looked around at the various plates of cookies and exhaled sharply, as though they were to blame for greedily taking the magic from her overworked hands. “I won the Kenworth County Fair’s pie baking competition four years in a row–four years! I’m a-a fraud.”

“Are you joking right now?” Breyona made an indignant sound and slid off the counter. Her voice took on the same lecturing tone as my mom’s when I’d sneak in past curfew. “You have actual magic, and you’ve been using it for decades without even knowing. You’re not a fraud, grandma. You’re a badass.”

I gave into the grin that tugged at my lips. “Nothing I say could top that.”

“You think so?” Her frown remained, but some of its harshness faded. “There’s nothing I love doing more than baking–well, that and tending to my garden. I…I suppose it makes a certain amount of sense that I was using my magic for both of those things.”

“Maybe that’s part of the reason why you love doing them, because it’s the only time you get to fully embrace yourself.” Breyona’s eyes softened and warmed like the gooey center of grandma’s chocolate chip cookies.

the glossiness of her eyes she’d need a moment

reason to give them trophies back.” The lines surrounding her mouth and eyes faded as the tension seemed to drain from her small frame. A twinkle of mischief

blunt but much needed words, Grandma relaxed enough to tell us more about the magic she felt stirring in her bones. It was only a little disheartening to hear her say

my self-doubt in its tracks and set me back on course. She reminded me that grandma’s magic hadn’t been locked away like ours. It had always been there, but only emerged when she stepped into the kitchen or garden-two places that brought her insurmountable joy. I had no doubt that the magic she created was masked by the love and care she put into every dessert and plant in her

kind enough to give me a hand.” Grandma spoke over her shoulder as she darted through the

Rowena, what about

a hint of

on from her baking spree and started this new mission of hers by pulling out a pack of ground beef and other tupperware containers

make lasagna. I’d nearly forgotten about Rowena and Cordelia until I

shortly. Rowena needed some supplies, and it turns out Cordelia did as well, so she tagged along. The two of them said something about a local occult shop.” Grandma replied in between

She grinned behind grandma’s back; her voice smug as

sure.’ I swallowed my laughter, but it was impossible to hold it for long when I could see the amused smirk that painted my grandma’s

book into the living room and dropped it square on the coffee table. As she cracked it open and the smell of old paper filled the

features bright and soft, her slender frame draped

Breyona leaned forward and cooed, “…oh,

filled almost the entirety of the page. “I loved this book as a child. It broke everything down in a way I could understand at the time. Consider this book the foundation of your training. It’ll tell you the seven types

Maya sulked that our first official day of witch practice wasn’t on creating magical tidal waves or making trees explode from the ground, Breyona and I hunkered behind the billowing pages

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