Bloodbound to the hybrid king

CHAPTER 1 My aunt was visiting today, I was so excited. “Anara nerezza” the warden called. I stood up and entered the room “evelyn” “my princess”we say at the same time before she pulls me into a warm hug. “happy birthday anara” she says pulling away, then placed a kiss on my forehead “Thanks Evelyn”we both sat down.. “your mum told me to warn you on this day, please be careful. She really hoped she would be alive to be with you today, she said today is gonna be the day “hell will let loose”, I don't know what she meant and all. She didn't tell me much about these things” “yeah I know”Evelyn was my mum's best friend, she's also human. After my mum died. Evelyn took care of me. She tried her best to avoid sending me here but who was she to argue with fate? “don't leave the school premises anara” “I won't” “I'm very serious, no matter what Anara, do not leave.” “I won't leave I promise”I didn't know that it wasn't left for me to decide. “I got you a little something”she says pulling out a bag from underneath the chair “ouu”my face lights up with excitement as she hands me the bag, I pull out a deep-blood red, silk chiffon gown, it had a corset laced back and a thigh high slit at the side. “it's beautiful, thank you” “How is it here?” “It's okay I guess, being around people like me. I still feel different though” “well your mum always said you were special” “yeah”I missed her. The warden came in alerting us that my time was up “be careful anara”she hugged me and left. ************** Ashveil girls weren’t supposed to survive their eighteenth birthday. I had thirteen minutes left. A party was being thrown for me. yet here I was, dragged into velmora’s hollow. The forest had grown too quiet. No birds. No wind. Not even the sound of my own heels crunching through the dead leaves — just silence thick enough to strangle. I gripped the edge of my long coat tighter as I stepped into the cathedral ruins, breath ghosting in front of my lips. Moonlight poured through shattered glass and broken stone, painting silver over ash. This place had been sacred once. Before the witches were hunted. Before my bloodline was cursed. Before the shadows started whispering. He’s waking, the voice said again. My shadow flickered beside me, curling against my leg like a loyal pet. I hated that it spoke. I hated it more that it was always right. My pulse pounded behind my ribs like a war drum. My blood was hot — too hot — like something ancient was rising beneath my skin. My birthmark, the one shaped like a half-moon on my wrist, burned cold. I shouldn’t have come, but the dreams had grown too strong. The coven warned me that nothing slept here except death. But I had learned something about death. It didn't sleep. It waited. Anara's pov(third person) The Obsidian monolith stood in the center, crumbling and overgrown with black ivy. Stone pillars lined the walls, cracked and carved with the old runes — the kind even the Elders feared to speak aloud. And beneath it, somewhere below her feet, was the tomb. His tomb. The hybrid. The demon-spawn vampire who'd torn through covens and courts centuries ago. Whose name was never written down, only whispered. Whose heart couldn’t be killed, only locked away. She hadn’t meant to summon him. Not really. But something in her blood called to him. And something in the air tonight… was calling back. The ground shifted. Stone scraped. A gust of icy wind coiled up from beneath the gravestone, and her shadow suddenly recoiled, hissing. She froze. There was a sound like cracking bones… and something groaned beneath the floor. He’s not supposed to wake yet, she thought. But it was too late. The stone lid of the sarcophagus shuddered… then slid open with a low, grinding moan. Anara stepped back, heart in her throat. Her magic flared in her palms, violet and unstable. Her breath hitched.She stumbled backwards and fell “Ouch”she groaned in pain, she lifted herself up and noticed a piece of wood inside her palm. She Yanks it out and toss it, sending a drip of her blood down to the ground immediately And then— A hand. Long-fingered. Pale. Clawed. It gripped the side of the coffin and pulled. He rose. Slow. Smooth. Like he had all the time in the world and had already killed time once before. Bare skin, streaked with dried blood. Muscles coiled like a predator. Tattoos carved in ancient sigils across his ribs, glowing faintly red. His eyes opened last. Not red. Not silver. But obsidian — black fire rimmed with gold. Ancient. Hollow. He looked at her like he already knew her. Like he had dreamed of her. Like he had bled for her. Anara swallowed, magic crackling under her fingertips. “You’re not supposed to be real,” she whispered.He's gazed locked into her. Like a beast recognizing his one true meal. The corners of his mouth curled into a slow, cruel smile. “You smell,” he said, voice like crushed velvet and smoke, “like ruin.” and with that he was right in front of her. His hand cupped the side of her throat. Not choking, claiming. “You called me,”he whispered. His nose brushed the shell of her ear. His mouth trailed down to her neck, where her heartbeat pulsed wild beneath the skin. “no—”she breathed, but her voice trembled, her body betrayed her. Leaning in. Burning. When his fangs sank into her, it wasn't pain that made her gasp. It was fire. Pure, searing pleasure. Anara's fingers clawed onto his back as he drank. Not gently, but reverently, like a man dying of thirst. And yet, beneath this hunger was something deeper. A bond forming. A magic neither of them could fight. When he pulled away lip stained with her red “ you're mine now”he whispered “forever”.