Page 101 of Alpha Power

"What do you think, Nadz? Am I overreacting here?" Zamorra walked out of her room, making sure to lock the door behind her and headed for the dining area.

Navi pursed her lips and tapped her chin, looking up at Zamorra with thoughtful eyes. The pixie eventually shook her head and pointed, giving Zamorra a thumbs up. She waved a hand over her face and a pair of green, fluorescent fangs appeared in her mouth. Navi hissed and promptly put a thumbs down.

Zamorra snickered, interpreting the pixie's actions easily. Navi agreed with her.

Over the last few days they had grown quite close together. The language barrier was a real pain in the ass but they made it work. The fact Navi could understand her made things a hell of a lot easier, so it was really just Zamorra who needed to try and interpret what the pixie was saying.

When she reached the dining area the double doors were already wide open, so she strolled right in.

Navi disappeared from sight instantly, but Zamorra knew the pixie was still perched comfortably on her shoulder. She just concealed herself with her pixie magic, something she did quite often.

It was something Zamorra noticed on occasion, how Navi preferred to keep herself hidden, emerging only to take credit for a prank or to terrorise someone. There was no way she was ever going to miss claiming responsibility for one of her pranks.

This was only one of several different dining areas in the house. It was a large open space, with a dark mahogany table centred right in the middle of the room big enough to host a small army. Identical matching chairs surrounded it, some filled by Luther's Elite Guards and of course, her uncle.

Zamorra had been in this room quite a few times. It was where dinner was always served and shenevermissed dinner, not if she could help it.

A gorgeous crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling directly overhead that dark table. Countless pieces of beautiful artwork hung from the walls, all of them encased in expensive gold framing, intricately designed to suit the flow of the house.

The intoxicating aroma of all different kinds of food reached her nose and her mouth immediately began to water. Food. Glorious food. She could smell pizza, pasta, fried chicken, steak, potatoes, vegetables - she wasn't a massive fan of that last one but she'd eat it if it was there. Werewolves were not known for wasting food.

"Zo, I was just about to come get you." Her uncle's voice fluttered to her ears as she stared at the abundance of food sitting in front of her.

There was enough there to feed an entire army, with plates strewn all across the table and overflowing with a variety of different cuisines. Platters of blood bags sat haphazardly amongst the trays of human food, each one marked with a specific blood type. There were even a few bags that read 'mage' 'shifter' and 'demon' in case any of them felt like a little bit of a variety.

Zamorra eyed the mountain of food piled on her uncle's plate and chuckled. "Sure you were," she replied with a sly smile.

A set of arms wrapped around her from behind and Zamorra instantly tensed up.

It's just the old woman, relax,her werewolf rumbled.

"I swear you're going to give me a heart attack one day! That is, if my heart was still beating." Margaret squeezed her tightly and Zamorra winced.

She didn't like to be touched and this level of closeness was making her really uncomfortable. It had nothing to do with the fact Margaret was a vampire. She wasn't species-ist, like her uncle. Zamorra just had a thing about personal space and right now, Margaret was all up in hers. She started to get flustered. And annoyed.

"I don't- can you just-I-I-I-" Her words were coming out in a tumble and she couldn't form a proper bloody sentence.

"Honestly," Margaret continued, ignorant of Zamorra's rising anger. "I have no idea how you managed to survive out there all on your own for so long. It's a miracle you're even still alive."

Zamorra's upper lip curled back in a snarl. Did everyone around here think she was fucking weak?

"Uh, you might wanna let her go, Margy. Don't think she's feelin' all the love." Darius picked up a fry and popped it into his mouth as he watched on with humor in his eyes.

She was definitelynotfeeling the love. She was feeling cornered. Smothered.

Void nodded in agreement, taking a huge bite of the chicken drumstick in his hand.

Margaret released her and stepped back. Zamorra breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face the old woman. Margaret smiled, flashing her fangs.

Uh-oh.

What?Zamorra replied frantically.What uh-oh?

Margaret lunged forward and wrapped her arms tightly around her again.

Zamorra winced. "Margaret," she growled in frustration. Her skin began to itch like mad and she wanted desperately to rip the vampire’s hands from her body.

"The last time I saw you, you were unconscious and bleeding all over my nice, clean floors. Let me enjoy the moment."

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