Alpha Asher and Lola novel Chapter 212

Chapter 212

We left that day for the safe haven, not bothering to pack or say goodbye to our families.

It didn’t matter that I was on the verge of passing out, not when the place we promised would remain safe had been attacked. There was no more time to wait. I needed to use my magic to protect them, and I needed to do it now.

Asher gave me enough of his blood to keep me standing up right. The only pit stop we made before peeling out of town was to pick up Tristan and Giovanni. Now that the sun was finally setting, they could safely leave the house.

I cried out with relief when Giovanni passed two blood bags into my hands and quickly tore into them. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it would have to be.

We were just under a mile away and already I could tell something had happened. Smoke lingered in the air, crisp and heavy like someone had started a very large bonfire. Even coasting down the main road, the gouges in the forest were visible. Trees were knocked down and bushes trampled into the dirt. It looked like a pack of very large beasts had charged through at full force.

I wasn’t at all prepared for what I saw when we arrived.

There wasn’t a single part of me that thought the safe haven would survive an attack without any damage, but beyond all reasonable belief, I had clung to the hope that the damage would be minimal.

We rolled down the main road intersecting the town slowly, giving me plenty of time to scour every single shred of damage the witches had done.

From the number of houses that had scorch marks licking up the sides, it was clear Ember had been here.

So many of them were crumbling, halfway torn down with families hiding inside, clinging to the shadows as the last hints of sunlight faded.

It grew worse as we neared the center, so much worse.

Bodies were lined in neat rows, covered in white sheets stained grey with ash. There weren’t many, perhaps only a dozen, but it didn’t matter. Those twelve carried the same weight as a hundred as a thousand, would.

The sidewalks and street were streaked with black marks, kissed by Ember’s flame as she pillaged the town. Cars were turned over, some halfway crumpled and smoking. The stench of burnt motor oil hung in the air, mixing with the scent of death.

Tristan cursed, and Giovanni made a sound of agreement.

“Fuck, my mother and father are here.”

I craned my head to stare at him in the

back seat. If we weren’t surrounded by so much carnage and death, I might’ve laughed at how absurd he looked crammed in the backseat with Giovanni.

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked. Giovanni snorted. “If you think Tristan is unpleasant, wait until you meet his mother.”

I glanced at Tristan, waiting for him to snap or explode on Giovanni, but instead he actually nodded in agreement.

There was nothing to say that would ease their discomfort. In truth, I wasn’t too worried about Tristan’s family or what opinions his mother would have. Seeing what happened here with my own eyes, it outweighed everything else.

Asher’s hand grazed my own, his fingers sliding in between mine. I glanced away from the carnage and into his eyes, not realizing how close I was to plummeting until I felt his presence glide down the mate-bond and into my troubled mind.

‘It doesn’t matter how many times they destroy this place. We will rebuild.’ He promised, his eyes severe and set in stone.

More than anything, I wanted it to be enough, but it wasn’t.

I stepped out of the car, barely noticing it had come to a stop. The slam of car doors. was quiet in comparison to everything else, drowned out by the weight of the stares falling on our faces.

A flash of brown curls flitted past as

Breyona launched herself into Giovanni’s arms. She tangled her fingers in his hair and let out her sigh of relief into his neck.

Deacon, Dina, and Spence were the next to approach. I imagine we all had the same expression on our faces, grim without the barest hint of victory.

More and more Vampire’s were traversing the cluttered streets to the center of the safe haven, to the community center that served as a sort of Town Hall. Children clutching ash stained stuffed animals padded behind their mother’s and father’s, hiding behind legs and torso’s as they scanned their surroundings with frightened eyes.

“This is the safe haven we’ve heard so much about?” A refined and almost nasal voice chimed.

Deacon’s eyebrows lifted as he turned. Dina and Spence locked eyes, something private passing between the two of them. Tristan made a sound low in his throat, his icy eyes darkening.

“Mother.” He said as a warning and not a greeting.

I hadn’t even noticed her standing there, the woman with soft blonde hair and an upturned nose. She had a delicate pearl

necklace around her slender throat, one that matched perfectly with her powder blue dress and black pumps. There wasn’t a single curl on her head that was out of place. Clearly she’d gotten here long after the fight had ended.

Her eyes swiveled to my face, recognition and disdain melting into one festering pool that I did not have the energy to deal with.

“So, you’re our new Monarch. Lola, isn’t it?” She purred, the obliviousness in her voice as flimsy as her smile.

I barely spared her a glance.

Deacon cleared his throat. “Considering you’re on her land, why don’t you show some goddamn respect and call her by her title?”

Upon hearing his threatening baritone, I tuned out everything else. Tristan’s mother’s reply was shrill and fell on deaf ears. One after another, emotions impaled me in the chest. The longer I assessed the damages, the more I realized how long it would take to restore this place to what it had once been.

Months of hard work reduced to rubble in the span of two hours.

“Honestly, you can’t actually expect us to live here, Tristan.” She scoffed; a delicate hand pressed against her bird chest. Her voice lowered to a whisper that wasn’t nearly quiet enough to be an actual whisper. “Think about your sister for Goddess sake. Do you expect her to live in a hovel?” 1

‘Don’t.’ I told Asher through mind-link, feeling him stiffen behind me.

Anything this woman said was meaningless, and empty words were not worth starting another fight.

There was a little girl just a few feet away, clinging to the side of a man who had the same facial features as Tristan. His hair was much darker, but his deep-set eyes, angular nose, and pouty lips were identical. The little girl was the spitting image of Tristan’s mother, only younger and not nearly as sour. She waved timidly when we locked eyes, and I did my best to muster up a friendly smile.

Tristan’s father said nothing but judging how his eyes flitted from person to person, he was observing everything carefully. They clung to my face the most, and I wondered if he was naturally this curious or if he had a habit of gauging the emotions of the people around him.

“Enough, mother. They didn’t have to invite you here, and you didn’t have to come. It wasn’t like this before.” Tristan hissed.