The Alpha's Hybrid

Eleven

Third person

"Where do you think she came from?" asked the first pack warrior—a tall, red-haired man standing over Phoenix's unconscious body. Rain dripped from his armor as he nudged her with his boot. She didn't stir.

"I don't know. I don't care," bellowed a larger warrior, his face twisted with contempt. "Get her to the dungeons. The Alpha will make her talk."

He spat on the ground beside her. He had a special hatred for rogues—had lost his brother to one years ago. This one would pay for that, he thought, grinning devilishly.

The others grunted in approval. They grabbed her by the arms and dragged her across the muddy ground, her limp body leaving a trail in the dirt. Her fiery red fur was matted with rain and mud. She looked pitiful—weak, broken, defeated.

They threw her into a cold, damp cell. The iron bars clanged shut. Water dripped from the ceiling, pooling on the stone floor. Phoenix lay motionless, her breathing shallow, her body trembling with cold.

---

Meanwhile, Alpha Colin of the Blue Moon Pack sat in a lavish meeting room, surrounded by human explorers. He was known for trading with humans—despite the obvious danger of exposing their supernatural existence. His greed outweighed his caution.

Now he wanted them to purchase land. Desperately.

"Gentlemen, that land is ancestral. You could mine natural resources there. Gold. Silver. Precious minerals. The possibilities are endless," Colin reasoned, his voice smooth as silk.

The lead explorer—a stern-faced man with cold eyes—leaned back in his chair. "We have no use for your land, Mr. Colin. We need serious scientific discovery. Your patch of dirt doesn't interest us."

Colin's jaw tightened. He pressed on, his voice taking on a desperate edge. "It's near a waterfall. Caves. Lush vegetation. Think of the tourist attraction. You could make millions. Millions! Who wouldn't want to invest in that?"

"Accessibility is the problem," another explorer countered. He was younger, more skeptical. "Who would travel through four kilometers of dense forest just to see a waterfall? The cost of building roads alone would bankrupt us."

Colin collapsed back in his seat, dejected. The meeting was slipping through his fingers. He needed this deal. His pack was going bankrupt. The coffers were empty. Warriors were growing restless. If he didn't secure funding soon, he'd lose everything—his pack, his title, his power.

Then his warrior mind-linked him.

"Alpha, we caught a fiery red wolf trespassing on our borders. She's in the dungeons. Awaiting your orders."

A slow, twisted smile spread across Colin's face. His eyes glittered with avarice. A sick plan formed in his mind—a plan that would solve all his problems.

"Gentlemen," he said, his voice dripping with false charm, "you mentioned you needed a scientific discovery?"

The explorers exchanged glances. "Yes. What does that have to do with—"

"My people just found a red wolf. Very rare. A true anomaly of nature. I could give her to you. For a price, of course."

Perked ears. Twinkling eyes. They were hooked.

"And what would we give in return?" the youngest explorer asked, skepticism still lingering in his voice.

"The price we first agreed on. Plus the land. Consider it a package deal," Colin said, reclining in his seat, looking immensely satisfied with himself.

"Are you sure ecological experts won't get a wind of this?" the lead explorer asked, his brow furrowed with concern. "They're completely against animal experimenting. If they find out, we'll all be ruined."

"No one knows I have the wolf," Colin assured them. "She wandered into my territory uninvited. She's no one's. Agree to the deal, and everything else falls into place. Trust me."

The explorers huddled together, whispering animatedly. Colin watched them, his heart pounding with anticipation. After what felt like an eternity, they turned back to him.

"Okay. We'll send the money tonight. We'll take the wolf," the lead explorer said.

Colin's smirk widened. He mind-linked his warriors. "Bring the wolf to the pack house. Now."

---

The explorers paid, collected Phoenix, and drove off into the night. Their van zoomed through the winding roads, the rain pounding against the windshield. Metal gates clanked open. Alarm systems blared. They had arrived at their hidden lab—a sterile, cold facility buried deep in the forest.

They carried Phoenix inside and strapped her down to a cold metal table. Her body trembled. Her breathing was shallow. She didn't even have the strength to open her eyes.

First, they shaved patches of her fur. It grew back almost immediately—right before their eyes.

They gasped. "Extraordinary," one whispered. "She's extraordinary."

Then they made incisions—testing how fast she healed. Large cuts turned to deep stab wounds. Stab wounds turned to chemical burns. They pushed her to her limit. They broke her. And then they broke her again.

Phoenix screamed. Her wolf, Lisa, howled inside her mind, but she was too weak to fight back. The pain was unbearable. White-hot. Relentless.

And finally—when her wolf could no longer heal her, when she was too weak to even whimper—they realized she had nothing more to give.

They dumped her in a deserted area. Bruised. Battered. Broken. Her body was covered in wounds and burns. Her fiery red fur was stained with blood and dirt.

They left her to die.