Fated to My Twin Sister's Alpha (Violet and Asher) novel Chapter 112

For a split second, Michael looked completely stunned, as though he hadn’t realized how far Xavier had gone behind his back. Then the shock turned into fury. “Don’t lie to me,” he

growled. “Xavier promised me justice–promised me a chance to

end Asher’s bloodline once and for all.”

“And you believed him?” I countered, my voice cracking with

disbelief. “All he wants is the power in our blood. Once he’s done, he’ll leave you high and dry. It’s obvious. Why can’t you

see that?”

Michael’s chest heaved with ragged breaths, torn between the

anger he felt and the possibility that I might be telling the truth.

Before he could respond, the door behind us creaked open.

A sudden chill swept through the room.

I turned and saw the figure standing in the doorway–a witch,

cloaked in black, her pale hand raised.

She emerged from the shadows. Michael took a step back,

aiming the gun at her, but it was too late. She moved faster than

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I could see, crossing the distance in a single fluid step and placed

her hand on his forehead.

Michael let out a sharp gasp. His entire body stiffened.

Then blood began to trickle from his nose.

Then his ears.

He coughed violently, his grip on the gun slipping as he reached

for his face, but he couldn’t fight off whatever was happening

to him. His breathing became ragged, and his knees buckled.

“Stop!” I barked, stepping forward. “Don’t kill him!”

The witch flicked her gaze toward me, her expression

unreadable. “If I let him go, he’ll do it again. He won’t stop until

Asher is dead.”

She wasn’t wrong.

But I wasn’t ready to let him die like this.

“I’ll handle him.””

She held my gaze for a long moment, and I could have sworn I

felt her probing my thoughts, testing my resolve. Finally, she let

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out a quiet sigh and released Michael. He collapsed to the floor,

clutching his head and letting out a moan. Red streaks ran

down his face, and his body twitched as if he’d been struck by

lightning.

“Tie him up,” I ordered. “He’s coming with us.”

I turned on my heel, not sparing him another glance. Because I

had more important things to do.

I dashed at the chair where Asher was tied, my pulse pounding.

“Asher!”

Thick silver chains wrapped around his body like a cruel vice,

burning into his flesh. His wrists and ankles were raw, the

scent of scorched skin making my stomach turn.

“Oh, no.”

His head hung low, his breathing shallow, but he was still alive.

I lunged forward, but the moment my fingers brushed the

silver, an unbearable sting shot through my skin. I staggered

back, biting back a curse.

“I need help!” My voice cracked, desperate tears streaming

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down my face.

The witch moved past me without a word. With a flick of her

wrist, the chains loosened. The second they dropped, Alex’s

body slumped forward.

I barely caught him.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered, my fingers shaking as I brushed

damp strands of hair from his forehead.

His skin was feverishly hot, but he shivered against me, his

breath hitching.

“V–Violet. His voice was barely a whisper.

“Don’t talk. Just hold on, okay?”

He was weak, but alive. That was all that mattered.

Matthew stepped into the room, his face unreadable as he took

in Asher’s condition.

“We need to move,” he said grimly.

I nodded.

“Make sure Michael doesn’t escape.”

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The witch reinforced the bindings around him, ensuring he

wouldn’t be a threat.

But my focus was on Asher.

I ran my fingers over the fresh wounds littering his skin, rage

burning in my chest.

“I’m going to make them all pay,” I murmured, voice laced with

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