The Hybrid

Chapter 23

Kyra moved silently through the tree line outside the pack house, her heart pounding with anticipation. She couldn’t shake the pull she felt to follow the vampire. She knew it was reckless, but something deep inside compelled her forward. As she crouched in the shadows, she thought about shifting into her wolf form for better speed and agility, but she quickly dismissed the idea. She was too close to the pack house, and the last thing she needed was to draw unwanted attention.

Instead, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, focusing her energy. When she opened them, her vision sharpened, and her irises burned bright red, glowing like embers in the dark. With a burst of speed, she darted through the trees, her movements fluid and nearly soundless. The wind whipped past her face as she ran, her senses heightened, her focus locked on the presence she’d felt earlier.

She came to a halt at the edge of a familiar clearing, her chest rising and falling as she steadied her breath. There he was.

The vampire stood in the moonlight, his back to her, his posture relaxed yet alert. As if sensing her, he turned, a slow smile spreading across his face, revealing sharp fangs that glinted in the pale light.

“Ah, there you are,” he said, his voice smooth and melodic. Kyra also realized he had an English accent.

Kyra hesitated. She knew she should feel fear, but she didn’t. Instead, a strange sense of comfort washed over her, as if she’d known him her entire life. Still, she kept her guard up, taking a cautious step forward.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice steady but laced with curiosity.

The vampire tilted his head, his eyes studying her intently. “Who I am isn’t nearly as important as who you are,” he said cryptically.

Kyra narrowed her eyes. “Stop speaking in riddles and answer me.”

His smile softened, and for a moment, he looked almost sad. “My name is Dorian.”

Something about his demeanor made her uneasy, yet she couldn’t look away. Dorian took a step closer, his movements deliberate but non-threatening. He gestured toward her with a reverence that made her heart skip a beat.

“You’re magnificent,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “So much like her.”

Kyra frowned. “Like who?”

Dorian’s expression darkened, his gaze distant as if recalling a painful memory. “Your mother,” he said softly.

Her heart jolted. The words hung in the air, heavy and impossible to ignore. “You knew my mother?” she asked, her voice faltering between disbelief and hope.

Dorian’s eyes locked with hers, and for the first time, she saw a vulnerability that unnerved her. “I didn’t just know her,” he said, his tone tinged with sorrow. “She was my mate.”

The revelation hit Kyra like a thunderclap. Her legs felt weak, her thoughts a chaotic mess. “You’re… you’re my father?”

Dorian nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. “Yes, Kyra. I’m your father.”

Emotion surged through her—a mixture of shock, anger, confusion, and something else she couldn’t name. She wanted to scream, to cry, to demand answers. Instead, she forced herself to listen as Dorian continued.

“Your mother, Lydia, was extraordinary,” he said, his voice softening. “Beautiful, sassy, strong, and fiercely independent. She was unlike anyone I’d ever known.” His lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile. “We tried to stay away from each other at first. A werewolf and a vampire being mates—it was unthinkable. But the bond…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “The bond can’t be denied.”

Kyra swallowed hard, her chest tightening. She didn’t know whether to believe him, but his words resonated with something deep within her.

“When we found out Lydia was pregnant, we were overjoyed,” Dorian continued, his expression darkening. “But we were also terrified. A hybrid… it was supposed to be a myth. We had no idea what to expect.”

His face hardened, his jaw tightening as he spoke the next words. “When the Elders discovered Lydia’s pregnancy, they ordered her execution. They called her a traitor, and you…” His voice broke slightly, and he looked away. “They called you an abomination.”

Kyra felt like the ground was crumbling beneath her feet. The weight of his words pressed down on her, suffocating her.

Dorian’s gaze returned to hers, filled with a pain she couldn’t begin to comprehend.

“When they killed Lydia,” he began, his voice low and trembling with restrained emotion, “it was as if my very soul was ripped from my body. Vampires don’t feel pain the way others do, Kyra, but this… this was something different. The bond we shared was eternal, and when it was severed, it felt like the universe itself turned cold and hollow. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The world lost its color, its meaning.”

His gaze drifted, as if seeing a memory only he could recall. “I could feel it—the exact moment her heart stopped. It was like a knife plunged into my chest, twisting endlessly. The bond shattered, leaving only emptiness behind. I screamed, but no sound could match the agony inside me. I would have torn apart the world to save her, but I was too late. Too powerless. But I felt you, Kyra. I knew you were alive, and I never stopped searching for you.”

Before she could respond, Dorian stepped closer, his hand lifting to gently touch her face. His touch was ice-cold, but it didn’t bother her. If anything, it felt… familiar.

“I’ve dreamed of this moment,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kyra opened her mouth to speak, but Dorian suddenly stiffened, his head turning toward the trees. His expression shifted to one of urgency.

“Someone’s coming,” he said.

Kyra’s heart sank. “Don’t go,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “I still have so many questions.”

Dorian gave her a sad smile. “I’ll see you again,” he promised. He leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

Before she could say another word, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving her alone in the clearing with a storm of emotions raging inside her.

Kyra stood frozen in place, her emotions a chaotic storm inside her. The conversation with Dorian had shattered her sense of reality. Her legs felt weak, her heart raced, and tears brimmed in her eyes. She had just learned more about her parents in a few minutes than in her entire life, but with it came a tidal wave of confusion, fear, and longing.

A sudden snap of a twig brought her back to the present. She turned sharply, her body tensing, but relaxed slightly when Ryder emerged from the shadows of the tree line. His expression was one of concern, his brows furrowed, his bright blue eyes searching hers.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his deep voice carrying an undercurrent of worry.

Kyra quickly wiped her tears, turning her face away so he wouldn’t see them. “Nothing,” she lied, forcing her voice to stay steady. “I just needed some fresh air. It’s been… an overwhelming day.”

Ryder took a slow step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly. He could feel her emotions swirling like a hurricane—grief, shock, anger, and something unspoken beneath it all. He didn’t believe her, not for a second, but he knew better than to push. Trust had to be earned, and Kyra wasn’t ready to share the truth yet.

“Kyra,” he said gently, his voice like a soothing balm, “I hope you know you can tell me anything. Whatever it is, I’m here for you.”

His sincerity struck something deep within her, and for a fleeting moment, she almost told him everything. But fear held her tongue. If he knew the truth, would he still look at her this way? Would he see her as a monster or something to be feared?

She shook her head, forcing a weak smile. “Thank you, Ryder. I just need time.”

He nodded, though his gaze lingered on her, searching for answers she wouldn’t yet give. Then, as the tension between them grew, her eyes finally took him in fully. Ryder stood before her completely naked, his muscular frame illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the trees. His chest was broad and powerful, his skin glistening faintly from the run. Every ridge of his abdomen was defined, and his arms looked strong enough to lift mountains.

Her gaze faltered, landing on his groin, and her breath caught in her throat. He was huge, even in his most relaxed state, and her imagination threatened to run away with her. Her imagination spiraled, heat rising to her cheeks and rushing through her body before pooling low in her abdomen. She cleared her throat quickly, forcing herself to look away.

Ryder smirked knowingly, catching her quick, involuntary glance and the sharp spike of desire in her emotions. “We should head back,” he said, his voice deep and slightly amused.

She cleared her throat, snapping herself out of the haze. “Yeah. Good idea.”

Ryder’s smile widened for a moment before he shifted effortlessly into his wolf form. His pitch black fur glowed under the moonlight, and he crouched low, inviting her to climb on.

Still flustered, Kyra hesitated but eventually walked over and swung her leg over his back. She buried her hands in his thick fur, feeling his warmth against her, and allowed herself to lean into him. Her thoughts still raced, she said nothing as they made their way back to the pack house.

As Ryder’s strong, steady pace carried her through the woods, she felt a flicker of safety—something she hadn’t felt in years.