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.

she’d need a moment to respond. When she finally did speak, she didn’t

and eyes faded as the tension

about the magic she felt stirring in her bones. It was only a little disheartening to hear her say how familiar it felt,

ours. It had always been there, but only emerged when she stepped

clue what I’m doing, but Rowena’s been kind enough to give me a hand.” Grandma spoke over her shoulder as she darted through

Rowena, what about Cordelia?” I

Grandma replied, a hint of awkwardness in

from her baking spree and started this new mission of hers by pulling out a

forgotten about Rowena and Cordelia until I saw the size of the baking dish grandma pulled from the

local occult shop.” Grandma replied in between measuring batches of flour for the garlic

together.’ She grinned behind grandma’s back; her

for

it square on the coffee table. As she cracked it open and the smell of old paper filled the air, I was surprised to see how well preserved each page

soft, her slender frame draped with fabrics and dainty crystal necklaces. An odd feeling ran down my spine, like the trail a drop of rain made as it trickled down a pane

when Breyona leaned forward

and matched her newly painted nails. She trailed it along the slender script that 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 of magic, but not how they are manipulated,

magical tidal waves or making trees explode from the ground, Breyona and I hunkered behind the billowing pages of Rowena’s ancient textbook and devoured

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