Maid for the Alpha

Chapter 32

Thank you all for your continued support of this story. Your votes and comments mean so much to me. As a writer I am continuously growing in my craft and a part of that includes some hard lessons. As you read, you may notice a change. In previous chapters I used the word "Gypsy". I am formally apologizing as this is a derogatory term and hurtful to the various traveler peoples. For the duration of the story these characters shall be Romani. I am currently working my way backwards in the story and am unsure how long this will take. If you find any G-words that I missed, please let me know right away so I can correct it. I thank you for your understanding and again apologize for my error. (note: this paragraph will be repeated in future chapters to ensure all my readers have the opportunity to read this notice)

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A thin line of wispy grey smoke steadily rose to the ceiling. Liz's eyes followed its ascent. Holy shit I did it. If it wasn't for the painful spasm spiking across her back and shoulders, thanks to the force of the gun slamming her into the metal shelves behind her, she wouldn't have believed it actually happened. But it did.

She had never before handled a weapon, let alone an ancient rifle that shouldn't have been in any condition to shoot. She was lucky it didn't explode in her face. And throughout the midst of all the excitement, she had no idea if she even succeeded. Though the gun was smoking in success, her instincts still insisted she be careful.

Shakily, she lowered the weighty firearm as she slowly approached the immobile mass on the floor. A pool of blood slowly gathered at the beast's head. Carefully she poked its shoulder with the tip of the rifle.

Nothing.

She poked a bit harder, jostling the furry corpse.

Again, nothing.

Exhaling the breath she didn't realize she held, Liz finally smiled. She was free. Finally free. She wanted to laugh, but her overstressed nerves weren't ready for that. And then she realized the enormous beastly corpse was blocking her only way out.

"Shit," even while dead, the demon dog still managed to hold her captive. If she had any hope of leaving, she'd have to climb over him. The thought made her cringe.

Squaring up her shoulders, Liz prepared herself mentally. She was about to touch the Rogue's corpse with her bare hands. A mythical creature. A dangerous beast. One that was just trying to kill her merely minutes ago. With freedom on the other side of that mountain of fur, what the hell was she waiting for?

Looking down at the rifle still gripped in her hand, she couldn't shake off that eerie feeling prickling on the back of her neck, warning her that something was about to happen. But the wolf was dead. She was safe. Right?

"Get your head out of your ass," she whispered to herself, "and get the hell out of here."

But when she looked up, ready to move on, she found one large burgundy eye glaring right at her.

Her startled scream caught in her throat as she scrambled to raise the rifle. Unfortunately the wounded werewolf was much faster. Striking out with one giant paw, the gun shattered into a thousand pieces as the air was painted with Liz's blood. Her cries filled the room as she was tossed like a rag-doll to crash into the metal shelves. Bent metal and debris fell down upon her as pain traveled up her slashed, broken arm to radiate throughout her entire body, into her core – into her soul. But the minute her eyes took in the vision of death before her, everything went numb.