The Vampire Prince's Hybrid Mate

350 Years Ago   The young Prince stood before the body which was laid so peacefully on the stone alter. Her hair flowed gracefully like a river down the edges, her eyes closed as if she were merely asleep. She looked so tranquil. But he knew better. Long ago the tears had dried up, taking away his sadness and leaving him only with the burning anger that consumed him, his mind filled with thoughts of revenge. They had killed his lover, his reason for happiness. She was not his betrothed, not the woman he would one day have to marry and create children with once he became the vampire King, but she had been his first love, his only love. Agony ripped through him again, his heart barely holding together. They had murdered her – torn her away from him before he could truly appreciate her. A knock at the door, ripped a snarl from his mouth as he turned to face the anxious looking servant vampire who dared to disturb his mourning. “What is it?” he seethed, his voice dropping in temperature like an icy breeze. “It is Reuben, y-y-your Majesty,” the man barely managed to stutter out. “He is back, and s-s-says he brings with him y-y-your solution.” The darkness swirled within the Prince, his rage and hatred building. His answer was finally here. Following the young servant, he strode into the dungeons, his mind focussed on this one task. Reuben stood before the Prince, their gazes meeting mine before he bowed his head ever so slightly, acknowledging the Prince’s presence. “Marcus.” “You have her?” “In the cell.” Marcus followed his pointed finger, forcing the door open as loudly as he could. A young girl cowered in the corner, her clothes rags and her hair layered in dirt. She looked about as hellish as he felt.  “Why have you brought me here?” she whispered, her voice stronger than Marcus expected.   He anticipated her fear, even desired it, to feel it within him, to drink it in before he could have his revenge. She looked barely older than fifteen, her face pale and love-heart shaped. Her huge eyes were a swirling grey that, if he didn’t know any better, would think could see directly into your soul. “You are a Seer, and I require your services.” She blinked rapidly, her grey eyes swirling ominously as she glanced over Marcus. “You are the Vampire Prince?” “Yes.” “Then I cannot help you. I don’t help vampires.” Marcus’ fist connected with the wall, the sound thunderous in the small space, causing the witch to jump and shrink tighter into the corner she sat in. “You will tell me what I desire.” A small smile touched her lips, her eyes narrowing. “If you insist.” She stood in one smooth moment, and before he knew it, the witch’s tiny hand curled around his own and her head snapped back, her mouth open wide. The witch took a gasping breath, before her head lowered slowly, her milky white gaze focusing on Marcus. “It is written,” she croaked out, her voice suddenly harsher, deeper – the voice of the creator. “You will soon become King, your rule undeniable.” A smirk lifted his lips slowly. His Father was soon to die, and he was to be King. This was something he had been born to do, something he had been waiting his whole life for. “The path you choose is riddled with revenge. A hybrid witch-wolf is responsible for her death.” Marcus sucked in a seething breath. He had his answer. Now he knew where to look. Before he could pull away, the witch’s head tilted slightly, her eyes rolling around in her head, her mouth gaping wide, before more words spilled from her lips. “But beware Prince of Darkness. It is written in the stars. If you continue down this path of revenge, your most valued pure bloodline will end. All pure-blooded vampires will cease to exist.” She took a rattling breath, and Marcus was too shocked to pull away. “If you continue, your revenge will be your downfall. Your decisions will curse your first born and be the end of your purity in more ways than one.” Marcus yanked at his wrist, trying to pull himself free. He didn’t care for the witch’s warnings, he only sought revenge - the revenge for the death of his beloved. That was all that mattered to him now. “Beware the witch-wolf hybrids.” Marcus was finally able to pull himself free the witch crumpled onto the floor, passing out. He stared down at her with disdain. She had served her purpose. He walked from the room, gaining Reuben’s attention. No matter how much he wanted to pretend it didn’t affect him, the witch’s words had gotten under his skin. But he would fix the problem entirely. He would see this prophecy derailed. “Gather the forces,” he barked at Reuben. “And what am I gathering them for, Your Majesty?” “We are going hunting,” Marcus growled lowly, a dark smile curling his lips. He was going to enjoy every moment of his revenge.  “I want every hybrid in existence wiped of the face of this earth.”