The Alpha Assassin novel Chapter 79

I balked at her as much as I could in this in-between state. She gave me a half smile and a shrug.

“How do we open it?” I asked.

She frowned, running her hand over the stone, closing her eyes. Her lips parted as if she were connecting to something, feeling something. “It is meant to only be open one night,” she spoke softly, the normal edge in her voice completely gone. “But it has been opened numerous times.” She motioned between us at the invisible but very real the thick tangy power.

“How did he do it?” I asked. “How was it supposed to be done?” I added, unsure if those questions were the same or not.

“You open it with blood,” she responded.

“Why does it always have to be blood?” I knew I sounded annoyed.

She laughed, it was deep and rich and as beautiful and warm as she was. “Blood is powerful,” she stated. “It tells the story of those that came before us, it is filled with love and loss and history.”

I swallowed. “That seems a bit elitist,” I managed.

She barked another laugh. “Ah yes, Simone,” she agreed. “It does, but it is not just through the chosen leaders that the blood is carried through.” She raised a slender brow. I was not following her. “You carry all of your pack members' blood in yours,” she explained.

I looked down at my hand numbly. It was covered in dried blood that was not my own. I don’t know what I expected to see, but I found nothing.

“When someone new joins a pack, how do they do it?” she asked me.

“With blood,” I responded. “By mixing their blood with the Alphas.”

“You are from an unbroken line because of your Alpha blood, but each of their blood has been mingled with their pack members. You carry all of them in you. You are a vessel for your pack. It is a great weight, yes, but one that is only seen fit on a few.”

I blinked at her.

“Your blood holds not just your line, not just your packs line but every single person that has chosen to become a part of it.” Her hand came to my cheek and I almost stumbled back at the shock of affection. She paused but I settled into her touch and her rough slim finger brushed my cheek.

“Your blood holds the memory of your pack; you hold that. It holds every single pack member, not just your family, your line.”

I choked back on a sob, it made me feel better knowing that even if I had forgotten some of their names that I held a piece of them, and not just as their Alpha, as an heir to represent them but that I held a piece of every single one of them in me.

“I don’t know if that makes it better or worse,” Nova murmured.

“Better,” I rasped out, blinking. The heaviness of this power and the weight of what I had done and what I was trying to do left no room for me to pretend, even though I did not want to. It lay me bare and open.

“Your blood sings, Simone. It sings the songs of those you came before you, their trials and more so their love, you are a product of your ancestors. Your blood tells their tales, it lives through you, it is the key,” she whispered, her own voice wavering.

I knew she had been told this before, that her ancestors had passed this down until it had reached her ears and became truth, and now she was passing that truth wrapped in hope to me. Something to hold to so I knew that even if they weren’t all here, that my very self could hold them, could speak for them all.

That I could rebuild with my blood—the blood that held every one of Blood Moons members.

She took my palm and held out a hand. I frowned at the dagger at my thigh and shook my head, I would not use his blood.

The swirling around me seemed to recoil in the same way I did. Nova seemed to know what I meant, or maybe she felt it too.

She used one of her razor-sharp nails to cut deep into my palm and then her own. I didn’t feel it; the power was too strong.

She guided my hand to the stone, and my blood seeped in, her hand splayed next to mine. I did not know if it was what she had said, if it was truly happening, or if this power was too much, but the stone seemed to sing back to me.

It flickered and disappeared into the earth, maybe leaving a small entryway in its wake.