The Hybrid

Chapter 24

As they arrived back at the pack house, Ryder shifted back into human form effortlessly. Kyra quickly averted her eyes, determined not to let her gaze wander again. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she blurted out, “Good night!” before practically sprinting to her room.

Ryder chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Payback,” he muttered under his breath, remembering the night he had stumbled upon her naked in the field. The memory sent a rush of heat through him, his body stirring at the thought.

Shaking it off, he headed to his own room, slipping into a pair of loose pajama pants. Despite the late hour, he didn’t feel ready to sleep. Instead, he leaned against the window, staring out at the quiet woods as his mind worked. Kyra needed to feel part of the pack, not just a visitor. He resolved to create opportunities for her to engage with the pack, whether through mentorships or community projects, giving her a sense of belonging and purpose.

Hours passed as he planned, his thoughts consumed by ways to help her, when suddenly a sharp pang of panic spread through his chest. He froze, recognizing the feeling—it was Kyra.

Quietly, Ryder slipped out of his room and padded down the hall to her door. Pressing his ear against it, he could hear faint whimpers. His heart clenched. Opening the door carefully, he saw her on the bed, flinching and tossing, her face twisted in distress. Her broken voice reached his ears: “No, Wyatt. Please stop… You’re hurting me.”

Pain, anger, and sorrow hit Ryder all at once, his fists clenching instinctively at the mention of Wyatt’s name. Slowly, he approached the bed and crouched down beside her, his touch gentle as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Kyra,” he whispered softly.

Her eyes snapped open, wide with fear and filled with tears. She sat up, breathing heavily, her chest heaving as she tried to ground herself.

“It’s okay,” Ryder said in a soothing voice, his thumb lightly brushing her shoulder. “It was just a dream. You’re safe.”

Kyra’s breathing began to slow, but her heart still raced. The nightmare had felt so vivid, so real. She bit her lip, debating what to say, when Ryder turned to leave. “Please don’t go!” she blurted out, then quickly added, “I mean… could you stay? Just until I fall asleep?”

Ryder’s heart softened instantly. “Of course,” he replied, his voice gentle.

He climbed into the bed beside her, settling on his back. Kyra hesitated for a moment before instinctively curling into his side, her head resting on his chest. His steady heartbeat and slow, rhythmic breathing grounded her, and she felt a comfort she hadn’t experienced in years. Ryder’s warmth enveloped her, soothing her racing thoughts and pushing away the remnants of her nightmare.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Kyra felt truly safe. The sensation of his skin against hers was exhilarating and comforting all at once, and she drifted off before she even realized it.

Ryder lay still, one hand absently playing with her hair, the other resting lightly on her side. Her scent filled his senses, intoxicating yet calming. Her touch sent ripples of warmth through him, grounding and exciting him all at once.

As the minutes passed, his breathing matched hers, and soon he found himself slipping into sleep, with Kyra nestled securely against him.

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains in Kyra’s room, bathing the space in a soft, golden glow. Ryder stirred first, his senses instantly aware of her presence against him. For the first time in years, he felt truly rested—like the crushing weight he had carried since losing Kari and their son had finally lightened, if only for a little while.

He glanced down at Kyra, nestled against his side, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. For a moment, he simply lay there, admiring her beauty. It was nothing like he had ever seen before. Her smooth, flawless porcelain skin seemed to glow in the soft morning light, and her big, full pink lips were slightly parted as she breathed. Her soft, tousled hair spilled across her pillow, framing her face like a work of art. She was breathtaking, and it struck him in that moment just how much she had come to mean to him.

Her steady breathing and warmth soothed a part of him he didn’t realize was still raw. But duty called. Carefully, he slid out from under her, doing his best not to wake her as he tucked the blanket snugly around her. He lingered for a moment, his eyes soft as he watched her sleep, before stepping quietly out of the room.

Ryder headed to the kitchen, slipping on his usual outfit—a tweed vest over a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, paired with worn denim jeans. He heard from the grape vine that Kyra has teasingly dubbed it his “James Dean” style, and one she had grown to secretly love. As he cooked, he replayed the events of the night before in his mind—her nightmare, her vulnerability, her trust in him. It strengthened his resolve to protect her at all costs and help her heal.

Meanwhile, Kyra slowly woke, the memories of the night coming back to her. She sat up, running a hand through her hair, her thoughts a jumbled mix of emotions. Ryder had stayed with her, his presence more comforting than she could have imagined. She hadn’t felt that safe in a long time, but it terrified her how much she was beginning to rely on him.

Her stomach growled, pulling her out of her thoughts. She decided to take a quick shower and head downstairs, unsure of what to expect in a house full of werewolves.

When she reached the kitchen, she stopped in the doorway, taken aback by the sight in front of her. Ryder stood at the stove, his back to her, wearing his familiar tweed vest and rolled-up shirt, the fabric straining slightly against the muscles in his shoulders. His jeans were comfortably snug, accentuating his strong frame. Kyra bit her lip, shaking her head slightly to clear her thoughts as the smell of bacon and pancakes filled the room.

“You cook?” she asked, stepping into the kitchen.

Ryder turned, a crooked grin on his face. “Of course. What kind of host would I be if I didn’t?”

Kyra hesitated, unsure of how to respond. “Thanks,” she said softly, taking a seat at the counter.

Ryder set a plate in front of her, his eyes lingering on her for a moment. “I thought we could start the day slow. You’ve been through a lot, and I think you deserve to relax.”

Kyra nodded, picking at her food. She appreciated the gesture, but her mind was still racing from the events of the previous night. “Ryder… thank you. For last night, I mean,” she said quietly, looking down at her plate.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Ryder replied, his voice warm. “I told you—I’m here for you, no matter what.”

His words made her chest tighten. She wanted to trust him, to believe in his kindness, but a voice in the back of her mind reminded her of Wyatt’s initial sweetness and how quickly it had turned to cruelty. Ryder was nothing like Wyatt, she knew that, but the fear still lingered.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she asked, “So, what’s the plan for today?”

Ryder leaned against the counter, crossing his arms, the sleeves of his shirt pulling tight over his forearms. “I thought we’d ease you into the pack’s mentorship program. The Full Moon Celebration is this weekend and there’s still lots to be done. It’ll give you a chance to meet some of the pack members and get comfortable here.”

Kyra hesitated, unsure about being around so many werewolves, but she could see the determination in Ryder’s eyes. “Alright,” she agreed reluctantly. “I’ll give it a try.”

Ryder smiled, his relief evident. “You’ll do great. Trust me.”

As they finished breakfast, the comfortable silence between them hinted at an unspoken understanding. For Kyra, it was another small step toward trusting Ryder. For Ryder, it was one step closer to helping Kyra feel at home—and to uncovering the truths she was still keeping hidden.