The Hybrid Series Book 2
Autor:in
Bryony Foxx
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Chapter 1
MAE
Numb.
Thatâs the only way I can describe the past ten years. Numb. Stripped of all joy and happiness. All because he was taken from me.
Donât get me wrong. There are moments when life seems a little less gray, but then the crushing pain always finds meâŠ
It always catches up, no matter how fast I run.
I stand at my bedroom window, looking out at the palace grounds. I see Ali and Anyaâboth twenty-three nowâtossing their shiny copper hair and flirting with some of the pack warriors.
They havenât found their fated mates yet. Amber and Eddie are planning to send them traveling soon to increase their chances.
It seems like theyâre enjoying their last bit of harmless flirting before they become mated she-wolves.
I see Hunter and Ozzyânow seventeenâfollowing our father as he scouts new talent in a combat class.
Since they were thirteen, theyâve been learning how to rule a pack, training at all the top pack lands.
Our dad is doing his best to teach them how to be fair and level-headed rulers, but also ruthless when necessary.
When Hunter turned thirteen, we found out he was to be the next king; he inherited our fatherâs wolfâs golden eyes, which means heâs next in line for the throne.
Ever since this revelation, the she-wolves have been flocking to him like seagulls to a beach picnicâpoor Hunter.
Most wolves would love this kind of attention from the ladies, but Hunterâs different.
Heâs not one to fool around with the ladies, although I can see the temptation in his eyes sometimes.
He can seem intimidating, because he radiates power and dominanceâŠbut when he lets you in, heâs a big, soft teddy bear!
Ozzy, on the other hand, is destined to be a different kind of ruler. The hellhoundsâ interest in him has only grown; now theyâre inseparable and are with him every moment of every day.
I bet he canât even pee in peace without them howling to be with him on the other side of the door. He will be the next king of demons when the time comes.
Our grandfather, Dominic, will step down to the rightful king as planned, although Ozzy has been sneaking off when he can, helping Grandad with his duties any chance he gets.
He was a real troublemaker as a young teenager. I saw steam practically coming out of my momâs ears many times because Ozzy would sneak off through one of his portals.
Oh yeahâŠhe can create portals to the demon realm whenever he wants. A pretty cool ability if you ask me!
Meanwhile, I stay in my room or keep to myself most of the time, watching the world go by.
I am destined for nothing, I am destined to be a nobodyâŠand I am certainly not destined to be anyoneâsâŠspinster princess, maybe?
Or maybe Iâll just become one of those bitter old ladies who hate everything and everyone but also complain that theyâre lonely. Yeah, that sounds like my future.
Once upon a time, I had dreams. I dreamed of a big, white mating ceremony under the full moon, a royal gown, and the entire pack celebrating our union.
I dreamed of my house and how I would decorate it. I didnât need anything fancy, just enough space for my mate and our pup.
But all my dreams were taken from me when he was taken. Now, all I hope for is a quick end to my pain.
I watch other pack wolves my age hanging out and talking.
I want to be there with them. I want to laugh and feel happy. Oh, how I want to feel happy! Or just feel anything positive!
Iâve tried to be ânormalâ again. The last time I tried, I joined the group while they were laughing and having a great timeâŠuntil I sat down.
I smiled at them and everyone went silent. I sat there for about fifteen minutes of awkward glances and stiff conversation before I gave up and left.
Ali and Anya caught up to me. I was waving my arms around, huffing and puffing about the wasted effort. You could call it a mini-meltdown.
They told me that I was giving off deadly vibes and icy glares. Oh, and the friendly smile I gave themâŠit was actually a snarlâmy bad.
Out of all the wolves my age, Ali and Anya have never given up on me.
They donât force me to join in conversations, but they let me be by myself in their company.
They call it friendly therapy. They know how much my wolf needs that pack bond, but ever since he was taken, she was taken too in a way.
She retreated deep inside me... I havenât felt her since.
I canât shift without my wolf, Sierra, so Iâm basically just a demon now, and a weak one at that.
My demon abilities are pathetic compared to my momâs raw power.
I can barely create a one-inch flame in my palm. Itâs about the size of a small lighter flame, a neat party trick for a human, but pretty pathetic to anyone else.
Even so, Ali and Anya are still hopeful that their wolves will be able to coax mine out of hiding.
Even if I donât always show it, I appreciate their efforts and their friendship.
I realize Iâve been thinking about him too much when his smiling amber eyes appear in my mind, making my heart clench and feel broken all over again.
When we first lost him, I would be doubled over in pain. My heart felt like it was being squeezed, sometimes it even made me throw up...
The numbness has taken over, so I barely feel the pain anymore. But the image of his eyes... Rexâs eyes... itâs enough to make a tear escape and trail down my cheek.
My Rex.
Dinah still believes heâs out there somewhere; she says she can feel it in her bones as a mother and as a witch.
When I was younger, this would fill me with hope, but as the years passed, I started to lose faith in a fairy-tale reunion.
Now, when she says hopeful things like that, I manage a polite smile and nod...though itâs probably more of a grimace.
Of course, I still wish for Rex to be returned safe and sound, but with the amount of effort my dad has put into finding him and all the leads continuing to go coldâmy hope has dwindled.
My dad is determined to fulfill his promise; he hasnât stopped searching to bring him home. He will never rest until we have answers...even if they arenât the ones we want to hear.
Closureâwe need closure, whatever that might be.
Whoever was involved knew exactly what they were doing.
They left no scent, no traces of where they couldâve gone after the thirty-foot radius of the crime scene. Even more worryingly, they knew how to immobilize a lycan...
He could be anywhere.
I think back to the moment he was taken. His eyes were so full of happiness and filled with promises of the futureâour future.
Then, within seconds, everythingâmy whole worldâchanged.
***
Later that evening, I head to my dadâs office before our Sunday family meal; I tend to visit him most evenings.
As I reach the large mahogany double doors, I hear what sounds like papers being scattered or shredded and my dad yelling out in frustration.
I push open the doors as his fist collides with his desk.
âFuck!â he shouts as a large chunk of wood falls to the floor.
I guess that means Iâll be breaking the news to Mom later that Dad needs yet another new desk.
He sinks back into his chair, pushing his hand through his hair in frustration as he sighs.
âSorry, Mae-Mae, Iâm not having the best evening tonight,â he says apologetically, though what he actually means is heâs found no new leads in Rexâs disappearance.
My dad spends most of his evenings trying to piece together any potential new evidence that comes in. My mom and dad go for âwalksâ most days though.
I now know this is code for âscouting for new evidence.â I have to give it to them, they have never given up. They refuse to give up.
Dad vowed he would find the culprit and thatâs what he intends to do. His wolf will not rest until this vow has been fulfilled.
I know that might sound selfish to some...but I worry that if I donât even meet my own basic needs, the depression and emptiness will return.
I fear it will consume me to the point I accidentally starve myself to death.
In the beginning, my days were spent sitting in bed staring vacantly at the wall. This went on for around a month.
Succumbing to sleep would be the only way to break my lifeless staring. My mom and dad were so concerned that they put me on twenty-four seven watch, even hiring a team of carers to keep me clean and force-feed me.
I wish I could help more; I wish my wolf would come back so that I could put more energy into finding him, but so far, ten years on⊠no such luck.
âAnything I can help with?â
I laugh at myself internally.
What a stupid thing to ask. Thereâs nothing that a wolf-less wolf can help with.
I have the same capabilities as a human for crying out loud: no extra strength, agility, hearing or smell, just the basics for a human⊠lucky me.
âNo, sweetie, itâs fine. Why donât you go and get yourself ready for dinner?â he says tenderly. I can tell heâs trying his best to protect me from his bad mood.
I nod. As I begin to turn and leave, a paper catches my eye. It holds a photo attached: a photo of the blood-covered grass at the scene of Rexâs disappearance.
My stomach drops and my insides churn.
I feel like Iâm going to be sick. There was so much⊠blood.
It takes me right back to ten years ago, making me feel like a frightened fourteen-year-old all over again, making the physical pain of losing him tear through every nerve ending in my body.
I raise a hand to my mouth as my knees buckle and give way. Strong, comforting arms catch me before I hit the floor. Dad.
See, Dad + wolf speed = helpful. Me + no wolf = burden.
I snuggle into him as he strokes my chestnut hair soothingly and carries me back to my room. I feel like a tiny girl again.
I love and adore my mom to pieces, but I will always be a daddyâs girl.
He places me gently on my bed as a couple of staff around the palace come in with a large glass of water and what looks like a pre-dinner snack.
âEat and drink up, darling. When youâre feeling better, come down and join us for dinner⊠Oh, and donât tell Mom about the snack. Sheâll kill me if she finds out I ruined your appetite with snacks.â
He smiles impishly at me.
âI promise.â I return his smile before he turns and walks out my room.
I canât help but feel like Iâm still treated as a child sometimes, but I know they come from a place of love.
They know I struggle to look after myself, so theyâve taken on that role of parenting again to make sure Iâm not going hungry.
About forty-five minutes later I make my way to the dining hall. We eat here with our family on random nights throughout the week, but always every Sunday.
By family I mean my mom and dad; brothersâHunter and OzzyâBeta Dinah and Idris; Amber and Eddie; Ali and Anya; Gamma Jude; his mate, Maria; and their son, Hector, who is twenty-five years old.
As I push open the large doors, they clunk and creak as they swing open. Heads turn my way and eyes snap to my own.
I bow my head and attempt a half-hearted smile to apologize for my tardiness.
I used to love these family meals, but ever since that day, and the fact that heâs no longer here⊠I find them almost unbearable.
I can feel the occasional sorrowful glance... resting on me... sympathizing with me... I canât bear it. I understand they donât intend to make me feel uneasy.
I mean, I probably make them feel uneasy too. No one knows what to say to the girl who lost her potential soulmate, the person who couldâve been her other half.
What can anyone say? I suppose itâs difficult for people to pretend like nothing happened to the girl whoâs still shattered and heartbroken every single day by the loss.
As I settle into my seat, I sigh inwardly, wondering what new nightmares will be the subject of tonightâs conversation.
