Page 102 of Alpha Power

This woman and her floors. Honestly.

Zamorra snickered at her werewolf's running commentary, despite the uncomfortable position Margaret put her in. The vampire's face was plastered to her chest, her hands clawing into Zamorra's back like she was clinging to the side of a cliff.

Zamorra huffed but remained still. Her fingers twitched at her side and she clenched them into fists, giving Margaret what she wanted, as much as it pained her to do so.

Over her time at Luther's manor, she'd come to notice a few things. Roman barely said a word... to anyone. Maddox and Darius were like those two idiot class clowns, always cracking jokes and playing pranks on one another. Ophelia was a bitch, Axel had split personalities, and Margaret? Well, younevergot in her way.

After what felt like three billion lifetimes, Margaret gave her a soothing pat on the back and released her with a smile. She ushered Zamorra into the empty seat beside Void.

"Sit, sit. I've prepared all your favourites," Margaret said, pushing on her shoulders. Her butt sank into the comfortable dark chair as Margaret began piling food on top of her plate. "I even have a little something for your werewolf too."

Margaret blurred into the kitchen and returned a millisecond later with a large serving platter in her hands. It was overflowing with raw, bloody meat of all different kinds. She could scent kangaroo, rabbit and even-

What is that?Zamorra questioned, sniffing.Is that-

Human, her werewolf responded, licking her lips.

There had to be at least 50 pieces of premium, grade-A meat on that plate and it made her werewolf howl in happiness.

Zamorra slapped a hand to her ear on reflex and grimaced. She hated when her werewolf did that. It was like having a pair of blaring headphones strapped to her ears.

Void eyed the platter of meat with golden eyes as Margaret placed it down in front of her.

"Don't even think about it," Zamorra warned and his head snapped up, eyes narrowing into slits.

If they were out on a hunt, it would be fair game. If you weren't strong enough to defend your food then you lost it. But they weren't on a hunt and despite how much Zamorra loved her uncle, she didn't share food. Especially if it was her werewolf's. She'd made that mistake once and she didn't hear the end of it for weeks. Bloody weeks!

Zamorra looked at Margaret, an overwhelming sense of gratitude filling her inside. She had gone to great lengths to provide all this for her and Zamorra appreciated it more than she could describe. "Thank you, Margaret. For all of this," Zamorra said as she waved a hand over the plate of food in front of her.

Margaret smiled fondly and patted her on the shoulder. "It was my pleasure. I've never made a bacon and egg pie before. Very interesting. Your uncle said it was your favourite."

The corner of Void's mouth curved up into a smirk as he grabbed what Zamorra assumed was the third or fourth helping of said pie. Itwasone of her faves, but Zamorra knew that wasn't why Void told Margaret about it. It was his favourite too.

Her gaze travelled around the table and she locked eyes with Axel.

"Miss Solaris," he greeted in a cold, dead voice. Axel 2.0 was nowhere to be seen.

She hadn't conversed much with the quiet vampire, at least not as much as she had with some of the others. But he was always polite and courteous with her, even if he did always keep a hand on the blade at his waist whenever he was near her.

"How's it hangin' Ax?" She replied, stuffing a slice of meat lovers pizza into her mouth.

His brows raised in surprise at the nickname she gave him, but he didn't fight it. She gave nicknames to everyone. It's just what she liked to do.

Roman shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth and gave a grunt in greeting.

She smiled. "Hey, Muscles."

She looked at the amount of food gathered before him and laughed.

There was a plate of every dish spread out like some grand feast, all of them smothered in... she took a whiff. Ew. Blood. The big brute wasn't satisfied with how much food he already had though. No. He reached across the table, picking up a whole roast chicken in one hand and dumped it onto his plate. Mac ‘n cheese shot out in all directions, coating the table in rich, cheesy goodness.

"Roman," Margaret chastised. She slapped him upside the head like she was disciplining a small child and scowled.

Roman grunted and his head bopped forward, half eaten pasta flying out of his mouth and landing on top of that beautifully cooked chicken. He slowly brought a hand up to massage the back of his head, his brows lowered into a deep frown. But he kept his mouth shut, not saying a thing. When he turned to glare at the old woman, Margaret pointed to the table giving him a stern look.

Muttering under his breath, Roman began to wipe up the mac ‘n cheese with one of his napkins. Darius and Maddox snickered to each other in the background and Roman shot them an evil death glare. They both shut up real quick.

Zamorra liked to think of Margaret as the 'mother hen' of the house. She made sure the place was always spotless. She organised the entire house rosters for cleaning, as well as the guard rotation. Always kept the table overflowing with food at mealtimes, and she fussed over everyone like they were her own damn kids or something. She also had no problems doling out punishments like a parent either.

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