Page 59 of Alpha Power

"Good looks ain't gonna buy me a new phone."

The next few hours passed by like a blur. They went back and forth, asking more and more questions about one another. She finally got the story behind Ophelia. Turns out her father had saved Luther from a group of hunters over 1,500 years ago. The man then begged Luther to save his only daughter from a horrible sickness that was plaguing their village. Luther obviously agreed, ergo, Ophelia's annoying ass is still around to this day.

That information made her a little uneasy, though. It meant Ophelia was at least 1500 years old. That would make her pretty powerful, most likely more powerful than her.

No, her werewolf growled.I'm stronger. You saw how we tossed her across the room like a rag doll.

That was only because we caught her by surprise.

Zamorra had a feeling that in a proper fight, Ophelia would be a formidable opponent, one she would have to keep an eye on.

By the end of the night, Zamorra felt as though she finally knew Luther, or at least more about his character, the type of person he was.

She watched him closely, studying the way his eyes darkened every time she shifted in her seat, or tossed her hair over her shoulders.

"You're staring," she said, biting her lip.

"So are you."

"Well, you're nice to look at."

Luther smirked and leaned forward. "I think-"

A loud bang went through the room, making her jump in her seat. Pixies darted in all directions, hiding behind plants and their tiny homes, their heads popping out the sides to watch what was going on. For a crazy second, she thought DeVos had been broken into, and a band of crazy supernatural’s were headed their way. But when she turned around, all she saw was one, single vampire.

She was breathtakingly gorgeous. Tall and slender, with long blonde hair that tumbled over her shoulders and bright blue eyes. Her narrow nose and plump lips gave her an innocent look, but those eyes? Oh, Zamorra could see the evil lurking deep within them. She was dressed professionally, in a tight-fitting black pant suit and matching overcoat that swished behind her as she walked.

Her entire ensemble screamed money and elegance, a lot of it. She had a regal presence that flowed from her, and an air of confidence that even Zamorra didn't possess. Her slender eyebrows rose in surprise as she passed through the soundproofing field and stopped next to their table.

Zamorra noticed how, unlike Allora, this woman didn't wait for permission to enter through the field. Which meant she was obviously high ranking enough to not warrant authorisation from Luther to enter.

Who the fuck was this chick?

"Luther, my love." Her voice was soft and sultry, like velvet. Her words ignited an inferno in Zamorra's stomach. "When I heard you had brought a shifter into DeVos, I knew I just had to come and see for myself." Blue eyes mixed within a sea of red snapped to Zamorra, cold and full of disgust. "I see the rumours are true."

"Leilani," Luther responded, a dark, menacing look in his eyes.

Her lips turned up into a pout. "Oh, it's Leilani now, is it? One young-blooded shifter and it's like you've forgotten the past 2,000 years."

Zamorra's anger spiked. It was abundantly clear these two had some sort of history. She knew she had no right to be jealous. Luther and her weren't together, he probably had a woman in every country ready and waiting. And yet, none of that helped to calm her down. She had always been incredibly territorial with things she valued as her own. Whether she was ready to admit it to herself or not, Luther was hers.

"This is Zamorra," Luther introduced, standing up and buttoning his suit jacket. "And we were just leaving."

Zamorra arched an eyebrow, surprised with the sudden change in him.

He walked over to her and took her hand, helping her to her feet.

"So soon?" Leilani smirked. "But we haven't even had a chance to catch up yet. Shall I just go ahead and book our usual room?"

"You know the answer to that," Luther replied, moving in front of Zamorra, using his body to shield her. "It's the same as it has been for the last 500 years. No."

Leilani tensed, her eyes flashing red in anger. She quickly composed herself, giving a flirtatious smile. "Are you still upset about Prague? We're immortal beings, Luther. You can't hold onto this silly grudge forever. You need to learn to let things go, my love." Leilani stepped forward, raising a hand to brush the hair from his face.

Luther gripped her wrist tightly before she could touch him, a dark look in his eyes. "It seems the only one having trouble letting go, is you."

Leilani hissed, her fangs snapping from her gums as she snatched her arm back. "You best remember who you're talking to," she growled. "Zvetari might prevent us from harming each other, but your little guard dog?" Her red eyes flicked to Zamorra, a sinister look on her face. "I highly doubt he'd care if I snapped her pretty little neck."

Zamorra snorted.

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