Page 32 of Alpha Power

Seriously? What was with all the dog comments? Dogs and werewolves were completely different species, or did she not know that?

Luther's expression darkened. "That's enough, Ophelia. You will learn to respect those that live in this household if you wish to remain here."

Ophelia stilled, her eyes going wide in shock. "You-you would make me leave? Kick me out?"

Maddox began pulling Darius out of the room by the back of his shirt, much to Darius' dismay. The other vampires quickly cleared out, leaving just her, Ophelia, Luther and Roman.

The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. Zamorra wanted to try and make her escape as well, but she had a feeling it wasn't going to be that easy.

Luther studied Ophelia before shaking his head slightly. "Just go. We'll discuss this later."

"But my maker-"

"Now," Luther commanded, his voice laced with authority.

Roman blurred to Ophelia’s side, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Let's go," he grunted.

Ophelia baulked, faltering a few steps before reluctantly following Roman's lead.

Zamorra started to slowly back away, trying to slip out undetected. Her bags were still in a heap on the floor, but she could come back later for those.

"Where do you think you're going?" Luther asked, his back to her.

She froze. "Uh, to my bedroom?"

Luther clicked his tongue. He turned, crooking his finger, beckoning her forward. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights, like prey being circled by a predator. She didn't know what to do.

Zamorra walked slowly, cautiously, keeping her eyes on the powerful apex predator before her. It's funny, she was always used to being the Alpha in the room, but here, in this place, she knew it was Luther. It would always be Luther.

When she stood directly in front of him, he used a finger to lift her chin.

Her werewolf bristled at the clearly submissive position. Exposing your throat, to a vampire no less, was dangerous and it put her on edge.

"She had no right to attack you," he whispered, eyes still on her throat.

Zamorra shrugged. "Ever since I met her, I've been wanting to bitch slap the fuck out of her. She finally gave me a reason to."

Luther chuckled softly.

"I'm going to guess that wasn't the first time she's attacked a servant before?"

Luther grimaced, dropping his hand. "No. She has a bit of a... temper," he glowered.

"That's an understatement," Zamorra muttered, though she wasn't really one to talk. She could have a pretty bad anger problem on the best of days.

She watched as he moved to the wall Ophelia had slammed into, fixing a painting that had become crooked. "It's gotten worse over the years," he sighed, sounding tired.

Let's get rid of her for him,her werewolf suggested.

We can't do that.

Why not?

That was a good question, one Zamorra didn't have the answer to right now.

"At the start, she would just scare them. Threaten them. But recently, she's started to physically show them her... displeasure at having them here." He shook his head, looking at her.

"Why do you put up with it?" Zamorra asked, watching him closely.

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