Page 20 of Alpha Power

The old woman nodded. “Better.”

Zamorra headed straight for her room. She was in desperate need of a shower, considering it had been days since her last and she didn’t want to see the other vampires. Not until she got her head screwed back on.

The feelings she and her werewolf were getting for the ancient vampire were really starting to freak her out.

After having a very long and very therapeutic shower, she carefully got dressed, being sure to not jostle her shoulder too much, and headed back downstairs in search of food. She would heal a hell of a lot quicker if she got something into her stomach. Preferably meat.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon as she stepped into the kitchen, making Zamorra realise she had spent a lot more time as her werewolf then she thought.

That happened sometimes - okay, a lot of the time. It was easy for her to lose track of time as her shifted self. There was a certain sense of freedom Zamorra felt when she relinquished control and let her werewolf take the lead. Like she didn’t have to worry about anything, because she knew her werewolf would take care of it.

There wasn’t a soul around, which put Zamorra at ease. Sometimes, she didn’t feel like conversing with others. She liked her alone time.

Despite what a lot of the Hollywood movies depicted, vampires could most definitely walk in the sun. They didn’t sparkle. They didn’t combust into ash. None of that crazy shit. The sun did affect them, just not in that way. Direct sunlight drained vampires of their strength, making them weaker and weaker the longer they stayed in it, but that was about it.

Daytime could make them lethargic and crabby, which is why the majority of them chose to sleep during the day. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a chance someone could come into the kitchen right now and the last thing she felt like doing was talking. She wanted to eat.

Before anyone could come in and start talking to her, she ran for the refrigerator.

Meat, meat, meat,her werewolf chanted.

Yeah, yeah, give me a sec.

Zamorra rifled through the contents in the fridge until she came across a plate of raw steaks. Another thing all those Hollywood movies got wrong was vampires and food. They can eat normal food; it just doesn’t give them any nutritional value. They can’t survive on it, and they still need an active stream of blood in their system to stay alive. Or undead. Whatever.

Do you want it raw?

Yes!

Fine, but you’re eating them. I hate the taste of raw meat.

Zamorra took the plate from the fridge and sat at the kitchen bench. She partially shifted. Her mouth transformed, large canines replacing her human teeth as her snout extended and her werewolf breached the surface.

With no hesitation, Zamorra ripped into the bloody, raw steaks. Blood dripped down her face and arms, landing in a puddle on the table and at her feet but she didn’t stop. She tore into the meat with reckless abandon, not caring about the massive mess she was making. She’ll clean it up later.

Her werewolf loved raw meat and since she partially shifted, she didn’t have to deal with the taste. Her werewolf was enjoying all of that. Zamorra didn’t entirely understand how the whole process worked exactly, all she knew was that it did and that was enough for her.

Zamorra sensed a presence enter the kitchen and her head snapped up, steak still lodged firmly between her sharp teeth. A low growl emanated from her chest before she could stop it. Her werewolf was territorial around her food.

Darius and Maddox were standing in the entryway and they were looking at her like she was some kind of crazed animal. Considering the upper half of her face was all human and the lower half was all werewolf, Zamorra could understand why they looked a little bit freaked out. She imagined she looked like something out of a grade-A horror flick.

Zamorra swallowed what was left in her mouth and shifted back fully. Blood was smeared all over the lower half of her face and dripped down her throat, wet and sticky. She’d need another shower. Damn it.

She gave them a sweet smile. “Hiya, guys.”

“What-what was that?” Maddox stayed exactly where he was in the doorway, watching her with wide eyes.

“What was what?” She asked casually. Zamorra guessed they had never seen a partial shift like that before.

“Half your bloody face was gone!”

Zamorra rolled her eyes. “That’s a bit dramatic. It wasn’t gone, just replaced for a little while.” She picked up a napkin from the kitchen bench and started wiping the blood away.

“Since when can you do that? I mean, can all shifters do that?” Darius asked, taking a seat next to her. He shifted his chair slightly, so he wasn’t directly beside her.

She could smell the fear in his scent, in both of their scents and it made her smile. The playboys were scared.

“Yeah, but they have to be bonded for it to work.”

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