Betrayed By The Alpha, Desired By The Hybrid

chapter 11

Emma's POV

I’m so done with everything. Alpha Damon really managed to ruin my life. He turned me into a criminal, and for what? I’m innocent, but he doesn’t care. No one does. And now, he’s slapped a $1,000,000 bounty on my head, like I’m some monster.

Did he hate me that much? Why is he so cruel? What does he even get out of all this? Does he think killing me will bring Camila back?

A million dollars. For me. That’s rich, considering I thought I wasn’t even worth a penny to him. But no, he’s willing to pay that much to make sure I’m dead. What happens when he finds out I was innocent all along? Would he feel bad? Would he even care? Doubt it.

Why is life so cruel to me? There’s no place for me in this world.

The Moon Goddess really screwed me over. I used to think she was fair, but I was wrong. She’s got favorites, and I’m clearly not one of them. All she’s done is bring misery into my life. I hate her for it. I hate her for letting me suffer, for letting me feel this worthless. What did I ever do to deserve this?

Everyone in the Full Moon Pack got their wolf at 18. Me? I’m 21 and still wolfless. What did I do wrong? No clue.

Now, here I am, standing in front of this psycho who’s asking if I want to go back to Alpha Damon dead or alive. Honestly, I’d rather die. At least then I’d finally be free—from all the pain, the bullying, the constant struggle to be accepted. No more Alpha Damon. No more of his pack. Just peace.

I hope Damon and his pack rot in hell. Every single one of them deserves to suffer.

“Any last words?” the man sneered, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I stayed silent. There was nothing to say. If he was going to kill me, he’d be doing me a favor. I couldn’t go back to Damon. Not after what they did to me in that dungeon.

The way they tortured me, like I wasn’t even human… I can still feel the cold chains on my skin, the pain, the humiliation. The memories haunt me, and I’d rather die than face that again.

I swallowed hard and stayed quiet. He could see I wasn’t going to beg. He c****d the gun and aimed it at me. I closed my eyes, ready for it to end.

But then I heard it—a girl’s voice chanting something strange. My eyes shot open. The man in front of me dropped to his knees, clutching his head like he was trying to block out the sound. He screamed in pain.

I turned to see where the voice was coming from and spotted her. A petite girl with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Her hands were outstretched toward the man, and she was chanting in some language I couldn’t understand.

The guy screamed and thrashed around, but there was nothing he could do. Then, out of nowhere, he grabbed the gun off the ground, aimed it at his own head, and pulled the trigger.

The sound echoed, and I watched in shock as his body slumped to the ground. Blood was everywhere. Then I looked back at her.

Her hands dropped to her side, then I saw blood dripping from her nose. She looked

drained but still in control. Without a doubt, she was a witch. But what the hell just happened?

"You're bleeding," I said, watching her closely, trying to figure out if she came here to help or to cause more trouble.

"Oh," she said casually, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe the blood off her nose.

"Thanks," I muttered, still shocked she’d helped me. "And uh, sorry about that." I gestured toward her bleeding nose.

She just laughed like it was no big deal. "I'm Stacy," she said with a small smile.

"I'm Emma," I replied, still on edge, wondering why she stepped in to save me.

To be real, witches aren’t exactly known for being friendly. They usually stay out of werewolf and vampire drama, keeping to themselves like the world doesn’t exist.

People might think witches are weak compared to other supernaturals, but they don’t know what witches can really do. They can mess with your mind, make you do things you’d never think of. Yeah, witches can be scary as hell. You don’t want to get on their bad side.

A witch with enough power can curse an entire pack, though only the strongest ones can pull off something like that. We were always taught to steer clear of witches whenever possible.

But looking at Stacy, I felt a bit relieved. She was bleeding from her nose—that meant she was a Bleeder.

Bleeders are witches (or wizards) without evil spirits in them. They’re more rational, easier to talk to, and sometimes even willing to help. If you’ve got a Bleeder as a friend, you’re in good hands.

The thing is, the only way to tell a Bleeder apart from a Tanlistan (the evil kind of witch) is by seeing them use their powers. Blazers bleed from the nose when they cast spells. The more intense the magic or the tougher the fight, the more blood they lose. If the spell is big enough, they can even bleed to death.

But Tanlistans? They don’t bleed. They’re pure evil spirits in human form. You don’t want to cross paths with one of them. If you see a witch casting magic and there’s no blood, the smartest thing you can do is run. Fast.

"You're one of them, aren’t you?" Stacy asked, her eyes flicking to the three dead men on the ground, including the one she just took out.

"Yeah," I admitted quietly.

She gave me a look I couldn’t read and then just turned to leave. That’s it? She saved my life, and now she’s just walking away? I was torn. On one hand, I didn’t want to follow her because, well, she’s a witch, and witches make me uneasy. On the other hand, staying here alone after everything that just happened? No way.

Right when I was about to say something, she stopped. Without turning around, she said, "You can come with me if you want," then kept walking like it was no big deal.

It was like she read my mind. I let out a shaky breath and ran to catch up with her.

But as I fell into step behind her, I couldn’t help but wonder—did I just make the biggest mistake of my life by trusting her?