The Hybrid

Chapter 25

Wyatt stood on the edge of a rocky ridge overlooking the sprawling expanse of forest that marked the southern border of vampire territory. His eyes, dark and hungry, scanned the horizon as his mind churned with twisted plans. Beside him, Jayce lounged casually against a tree, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips as he flipped a silver dagger between his fingers. Both men exuded a dangerous aura, their obsession for power radiating like a tangible force.

“We’ve wasted enough time,” Wyatt growled, his gravelly voice laced with frustration. “Kyra is within my grasp. I can feel it. But these damn vampires…” He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms until they drew blood.

Jayce chuckled, unfazed by his Alpha’s anger. “You really think some bloodsuckers are going to stop us? They bleed like everyone else, Wyatt. Just give the word.”

Wyatt shot him a sharp glare. “That’s the problem, Jayce. They don’t bleed like us, and they don’t die like us. The Bloodstone pack is impenetrable—too many alliances, too many eyes. If we barge in, we’ll be torn apart before we get within a mile of Kyra. No, we need finesse. Someone who knows the layout and can get us inside unseen.”

Jayce pushed off the tree and strolled to Wyatt’s side, his smile growing darker. “Then it’s time we make a deal. The rebels are always eager for coin—or chaos.”

Wyatt’s lip curled at the mention of the rebel vampires, but he nodded. He hated relying on outsiders, especially the vampires who operated outside their strict hierarchies. The rebels were unpredictable and dangerous, but they were also opportunists. They wouldn’t turn down a deal that promised to satisfy their greed.

“Let’s move,” Wyatt ordered, turning on his heel. “If anyone can get us inside the Bloodstone pack, it’s the rebel who’s been slipping in and out of their borders unseen.”

Jayce’s smirk widened. “Dorian. The slippery bastard. I heard rumors he’s untouchable—knows all the tricks to evade detection. If anyone can help us, it’s him.”

Wyatt’s jaw tightened. “Then let’s find him.”

The old château loomed like a specter in the heart of the dense forest, its high stone walls and towering spires hidden beneath a thick canopy of twisted trees. The structure was ancient, its grandeur faded but its menace undiminished. This was the domain of the rebel vampires—exiled from the councils, scorned by their own kind, but fiercely independent and undeniably dangerous.

Wyatt and Jayce approached the heavy, iron-bound doors cautiously. Despite Wyatt’s seething impatience, he couldn’t ignore the primal wariness in his gut. The vampires weren’t like his wolves. They didn’t heal as fast, but their cunning and speed made them formidable predators.

Jayce sniffed the air. “Smells like death,” he muttered, gripping the hilt of his blade.

Wyatt snorted. “What did you expect? Roses?” He rapped sharply on the door, his jaw clenched.

The door creaked open, revealing a pale vampire with sunken eyes and a cruel sneer. His gaze swept over the werewolves, lingering with disdain. “What brings the mutts to our den?”

Wyatt’s eyes glinted dangerously. “We need to see Dorian.”

The vampire chuckled. “Do you, now? Dorian doesn’t take kindly to uninvited guests.”

Wyatt didn’t hesitate. His hand shot out, slamming the vampire against the stone wall. “I don’t care what Dorian does or doesn’t like. Take us to him.”

The vampire hissed but nodded reluctantly. “Follow me, if you dare.”

The chamber was vast, with high, vaulted ceilings and walls lined with faded tapestries. A large, broken chandelier hung precariously from the ceiling, casting long shadows in the flickering torchlight. Dorian reclined in a carved wooden chair near the back of the room, a goblet of crimson liquid in his hand.

His red eyes gleamed as Wyatt and Jayce entered, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Ah, wolves. How charming. To what do I owe this rare and… unwelcome visit?”

Wyatt stepped forward, his posture defensive but resolute. “We need your help. You’ve been seen slipping in and out of the Bloodstone pack’s walls. We need to get in.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow, swirling the goblet lazily. “And why, pray tell, would I risk my head to help two mangy wolves? Surely you don’t think my services come free?”

Wyatt clenched his fists. “We’re not here to barter. This isn’t a negotiation.”

Dorian chuckled darkly. “Everything is a negotiation, wolf. But I’ll humor you—what’s so important inside Bloodstone that you’d come groveling to me?”

Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. “A hybrid.”

The word seemed to ripple through the room like a shockwave. Dorian’s hand froze mid-sip, and for the briefest moment, his mask of indifference slipped. His mind raced, but he schooled his expression. “A hybrid?” he repeated, feigning disinterest. “Such creatures are myths.”

Wyatt’s lips curled into a sneer. “Don’t play coy with me, leech. I know she’s there. The witch confirmed it before she died, she said Rodrick, one of the Elders, sent her here.”

Dorian set his goblet down with deliberate calm, though his chest burned with suppressed fury. “There is no hybrid in Bloodstone. Your information is false.”

Jayce growled low in his throat. “He’s lying, Wyatt.”

Wyatt’s patience snapped. He slammed his hands on the table between them, leaning forward until he was face-to-face with Dorian. “Don’t test me, vampire. I know about the Prophetia Lunae Sanguinis. I know the power a hybrid wields—and the power they can grant to the one who claims them.”

Dorian’s face darkened, his usual smugness replaced by a cold fury. “How do you know about the prophecy?”

Wyatt grinned, satisfied he’d struck a nerve. “I’ve done my research. The impossible has been found, and I plan to use her to gain absolute power. Every creature will bow to me, including you.”

Dorian fought to keep his emotions in check, but his mind screamed with panic. Kyra. He forced himself to remain calm, his voice steady. “You’re chasing ghosts, wolf. The hybrid you speak of doesn’t exist.”

Wyatt’s smile faltered, his rage bubbling to the surface. “Don’t lie to me!” he roared. “I killed the witch who sent me here, and she confirmed it. If you won’t help me, I’ll tear through every last one of your kind until I find her.”

The tension was shattered by the sound of soft laughter. A woman stepped from the shadows, her beauty as striking as her presence was unnerving. Her raven hair framed a face of cold elegance, her sharp features softened only by her calculating smile.

“Enough, boys,” she said smoothly, her voice carrying a dangerous edge. “You’re scaring the help.”

Wyatt turned to her, his anger momentarily replaced by curiosity. “And who are you?”

“Evelyn,” she said simply, her dark eyes gleaming. “And I think we can help each other.”

Dorian’s jaw tightened. “Evelyn, this is not your concern.”

She ignored him, stepping closer to Wyatt. “You want access to Bloodstone. I know how Dorian gets in and out undetected.” She cast a mocking glance at Dorian. “But my price is simple. I want the head of Bloodstone’s Alpha, and I’ll give you everything you need.”

Wyatt’s lips curved into a sinister smile. “Done.”

Evelyn inclined her head. “Then we strike at the Full Moon Celebration. I’ll be in touch.”

As Evelyn began to leave, Dorian took a step back, planning to slip away unnoticed.

“Going somewhere?” Evelyn purred, her tone dripping with malice.

Dorian met her gaze with a defiant smirk. “Just stretching my legs.”

Evelyn’s expression hardened. “Lock him up,” she ordered her men.

As they dragged him away, she turned to Wyatt. “You can do as you please with the pack, but the Alpha is mine.”

Wyatt grinned. “You have my word. And when I rise to power, your kind will have a place in my new world.”

Evelyn smiled, a dangerous glint in her eye. “As long as you hold up your end of the bargain, wolf.”

Dorian’s mind raced as he was hauled to a dark cell. I have to warn Kyra… before it’s too late.