Maid for the Alpha

Chapter 37 (part three - last part)

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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The rhythmic pounding of large black paws alerted anyone within one mile that something was coming long before the blue-eyed beast was in sight. And whenever that sound rung through the city streets, everyone was ready for what New Yorkers had quickly named... the Demon Dog. Sightings were tagged all over social media using #demondogsighting or #newyorkdemondog, and the best one – #holyshititsthedemondogofnewyork!

By the time the Lord Alpha was finally closing in on his target, the wild werewolf had a Facebook page, Twitter account, and Instagram feed dedicated to him, with over 500,000 combined followers. But his popularity wasn't in his favor. Every police woman and man, bounty hunter and reward seeker was on the hunt for the creature whose running tab of total damage was reaching up into the hundreds of thousands. Oddly, there were no known casualties – yet, but that didn't stop the city of New York from issuing rewards for any information that could lead them to the capture of whatever creature or hoaxer was causing so much trouble.

Unfortunately, Leland, lost within the powerful grip of his preternatural self, was unaware of what was happening around him, or what the cost would be once he found her. Liz. His Mate. The only thing keeping him from losing himself completely to the darkness within. She was his beacon of hope and nothing would come between them ever again. Not even a traitorous werewolf who had everyone fooled for far too long!

A growl tore through his throat at the thought of the Rogue, sounding more like a roar down the echoing alleyway he was soaring through.

He was unaware of the turning heads, flashing cameras, and advancing sirens. Nor did he realize how badly the world was desperate to capture the mysterious monster of New York. All his brain could register was the increasing tingle in his gut, the otherworldly sense that he was following the right path.

And then he smelled her! Mild, distant, but distinctively her. Subtle notes of honey-vanilla and cayenne pepper, mixed with the unpleasant odor of a dominant Rogue, filled his nostrils. He took in the scent as he ran, filling his lungs, his soul, with her essence. It electrified his blood and jolted him with a new surge of energy – and determination.

Leaping out of the alley the scenery changed from unkempt city streets to barren, overgrown lots, and beyond that, a line of night-blackened trees barricading the horizon. He did not hesitate as he raced towards the forest. The closer he came, the stronger her scent – and the closer to his enemy. He wanted to howl in triumph, to send a bone-chilling warning to the traitor that death was coming, but he refrained. Liz was not yet out of danger and such a warning would be foolish, even his wilder, less human self, understood that.

Instead, he hunted like the wolf he was, weaving through trees and gliding over the forest floor with noiseless precision. Not even a mouse would hear him coming. And as he stalked ever closer to the traitor's lair, he plotted and planned which limbs he would rip away first, before tearing out his throat!