The Hybrid Series Book 2

MAE

I’ve been aimlessly wandering the palace halls for the past quarter of an hour. I figure the pack won’t be back for at least another couple of hours.

Dragging my feet, I let out a sigh of boredom. It’s a tough gig, wanting to be alone but also missing my pack.

Why am I like this?

I see light spilling from under Idris’s office door. That’s odd. He should be out on the pack run. I move closer, intending to switch off his light.

Running a palace isn’t cheap, you know. We have to save where we can.

He must’ve rushed off to the pack run and forgot to turn it off, I reason with a shrug.

As I approach the door, I see shadows shifting in the light. I stop, blinking, thinking I’m imagining things. But then the shadow moves again.

Come to think of it, I didn’t see Idris at the pack run. I hope he’s alright…

I push the door open without knocking. We’re like family, and I’ve never knocked before!

The sound of rustling papers tells me someone’s in a hurry to hide something. I poke my head around the door.

“Hey, Pops!” I call out.

Rex and I started calling Idris “Pops” when we were about nine. We told him that when we grew up, got mated, and had our pup, he’d be their Pops. The name stuck.

“Oh! Mae! Hi!” he stammers, running a hand through his messy black hair.

I pause, taking in his flustered look. He seems guilty, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, scrambling for a good excuse.

I narrow my eyes a bit, asking, “You okay?”

I quickly scan the room for anything suspicious. Any papers that were out have been hastily stashed away.

“Yes. Sorry, just didn’t expect anyone. Thought everyone was out on the run,” he says, pushing his hair back from his face again.

“Nah! I haven’t gone on those runs in forever, you know that!” I say, flopping down on the comfy chair across from his desk.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be on the run,” I ask, trying to sneak a peek at his desk to see if he left anything out.

“I decided to skip tonight…had something else to take care of,” he says, shrugging nonchalantly.

He seems to have regained his composure; his cool, collected mask is back in place.

“Oh yeah? Need any help?” I ask sincerely.

“No, don’t worry about it. Just some boring beta duties. I’ll be done soon.” He gives me a warm smile.

Idris helps Dinah with her beta duties. Even though she’s the main beta, he steps in when Dinah needs an extra hand.

Or if she wants to finish early, they tackle her duties together, so they can spend more time together.

“Okay, no problem.” I get up, heading for the door. “Let me know if you need anything.”

As I close the door behind me, a sense of unease settles in my stomach.

Something was off with Pops... I can’t shake the feeling he’s hiding something. But what? And why? He’s never kept secrets from me before.

***

I’m standing in the training grounds.

It’s been designed to cover all possible combat situations—open spaces, tight spots, and various terrains like sand, rocks, and hills.

We have obstacles we can use to enhance our training. Need to practice fighting on a cliff? We can make it happen! Whatever you need, we’ve got it!

All wolves five and older have to take combat training. Even though our wolves don’t emerge until we’re thirteen, it’s vital we all know how to defend ourselves.

My father implemented this rule.

Even if we don’t become pack warriors, he wants every pack member to know how to defend themselves—for a better chance at survival.

He wants enemy warriors to be surprised by our pack members’ fighting skills—even if they can only delay an enemy.

If any of us find ourselves in a situation where we can’t get to safety and have to defend ourselves, none of us will go down without a fight.

Not even the pups. If they took down an untrained adult rogue, I wouldn’t be surprised. They’re born fighters.

Eddie is training the older wolves today, including me. Amber is training the youngest pack members.

It took her a while to accept the dark scar running down her face, but I think it makes her look badass!

We all know the story of how Amber got her scar. Her own twin sister, Alice, gave it to her. Alice was evil to the core.

I think that’s what took Amber the longest to accept... that her own sister, especially her twin, could do that to her.

Little Lia spots me and grins cheekily. She’s acing her training—the other pups can’t keep up! I wave back at her before heading over to my group.

Combat training is a sore point for me; it used to be one of my favorite things. I was the best girl in my group.

I was a natural. Fighting came easily to me. But now, without my wolf, I can barely hold my own against an omega.

It makes me feel weak and pathetic compared to the standard I used to set. I used to skip training because I was embarrassed by my sudden drop in skill and inability to fight.

But eventually, my mom kicked my butt into gear and made me realize that my fighting ability wasn’t what defined me.

“Alright, folks, find a partner!” Eddie’s voice rings out. He’s just finished explaining some advanced defense and attack strategies for different species.

Now, it’s our turn to put these lessons into action and show what we’ve learned.

I head straight for my usual sparring partner, Elsie. She’s quite small for a wolf, barely reaching five feet. I think her mom is Fae, who are known for their delicate stature.

Her hair is a vibrant red, and her face has a pixie-like innocence. I tower over her at five foot eleven, but she still manages to beat me every time! I won’t lie, it stings my pride a bit…okay, maybe more than a bit.

Today, we’ve picked the sandy terrain for our match. We square off, sinking into our fighting stances.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the others beginning their sparring matches. I take a deep breath, mentally and physically bracing myself for another defeat—my muscles already protesting.

With a quick push off the sand, I charge.

I run as fast as my human body will allow, which is about the speed of a moderately athletic person. Elsie is already bouncing lightly on her feet.

She’s incredibly agile and light on her feet, making her movements seem effortless.

Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she started yawning soon. I mean, sparring with me probably isn’t the most exciting thing.

I’m not much of a challenge. I’ve never beaten her; she always wins with ease.

She easily dodges my punch and quickly goes on the offensive, darting around me and landing quick, sharp jabs that make me wince in pain.

Somehow, I manage to leap away from her rapid assault, gasping for breath as I clutch my aching ribs.

Pull it together, Mae. You need to be smarter about this, I tell myself.

I quickly survey my surroundings, formulating a new strategy.

If this doesn’t work, I’m toast!

I charge at Elsie again, ducking low and scooping up a handful of sand. I fling it at her face, temporarily blinding her.

My trick forces her to close her eyes and wipe the sand from her face. I seize this opportunity to land a few hits on her torso.

I landed a hit! I silently celebrate, doing a mental victory dance.

But my triumph is short-lived. Elsie is back on the offensive, landing blow after blow, not giving me a chance to recover.

I try my sand trick again, but she’s learned her lesson.

Her delicate pixie wings sprout from her back, creating a gust of wind that blows the sand away before it can reach her.

The gust stirs up the surrounding sand, creating a swirling vortex of doom.

I know I’m about to get my butt kicked again.

Her wings are almost see-through; they shimmer with rainbow hues.

They might look fragile, but trust me, they’re anything but! They’re surprisingly powerful!

I’m trapped in a whirlwind of sand. I can’t see Elsie. Actually, I can’t see anything. I’m a sitting duck.

The sand whips against my skin. The speed of the swirling sand cuts me like tiny shards of glass.

I can smell the faint scent of blood as the sand continues to batter me.

Suddenly, the wind slows...and I feel Elsie’s clawed hand at my throat.

Kill shot.

“Good job, Mae. You’ve improved since our last session!” she says cheerfully before releasing me.

I give her a quick nod, mostly because I don’t really believe her. I also feel like I’m about to keel over.

Bent over with my hands on my knees, I struggle to catch my breath. My face is flushed, and sweat is pouring from every pore.

I hear the commotion before I see it. My gaze lazily drifts to a crowd gathering around the star pupils—my brothers.

I wander over to watch, sometimes taking mental notes of their battle strategies...even though I lack the skill to execute them myself.

Watching my brothers spar is my favorite part of combat training; their competitiveness makes it incredibly entertaining.

Neither of them wants to lose, so they give it their all in every session.

Hunter and Ozzy are in the thick of their battle. The crowd continues to cheer and shout. It’s like this every other day during combat training.

Honestly, they're a sight to behold. I’m proud to call them my brothers. They’re both incredibly powerful in their own unique ways.

They can only spar with each other in our group; anyone else wouldn’t be able to match their skills...and would end up in the pack hospital.

Besides, Hunter and Ozzy wouldn’t get a good workout. They wouldn’t be the formidable fighters they are today without sparring each other.

Hunter has the pure strength and speed of a king, like our dad. His strength and speed are unmatched, even by Ozzy.

Hunter doesn’t have many demon abilities. When he’s in his wolf form, his eyes flicker like flames, like our mother’s, but his eyes are golden like our father’s.

I guess his genetic makeup, which destines him to be the next king, outweighs his demon traits.

Hunter can surround himself in flames like our mom, though his flames are golden, like his eyes. It’s the perfect defense against physical attacks.

Not only does it slow down any physical attacks, but the flames also harm his attacker.

Ozzy, on the other hand, has the speed and strength of our mom. This makes him more powerful than an alpha. He inherited several demon abilities from our mother.

He has demon wings, can control hellfire, and can visit people in their dreams—if he chooses to.

He commands the hellhounds, and he has the ability to create portals, which is something our mom can’t do.

While Hunter is a powerhouse of a wolf, Ozzy is cunning and tactical.

He uses his other abilities to his advantage, anything to throw off his twin. This forces Hunter to think on his feet to overcome his formidable opponent.

Hunter, meanwhile, has to outwit his twin’s crafty moves. He’s left with no choice but to depend on something other than his impressive strength and speed.

We seldom see a clear winner in their battles. They usually spar until the session ends—or until Eddie steps in to break them apart.

I watch, fascinated, as Hunter lunges at Ozzy. Ozzy reacts instantly, creating a portal in the ground.

Hunter is moving too quickly to avoid Ozzy’s trap. He tumbles in, only to reappear about eight feet above Ozzy’s head.

Ozzy springs into the air, his fist connecting with Hunter’s chin as he soars past him.

Hunter shoots his twin a glare, rubbing his chin with the back of his hand.

Never one to take a hit without retaliation, Hunter quickly grabs Ozzy’s wrist, his large hand wrapping around the back of Ozzy’s neck before he slams his head into our brother’s.

Ozzy stumbles back, disoriented—but quickly regains his balance.

His eyes look dazed, but a wicked smile spreads across his face. His arms blaze with green hellfire before he hurls fireballs at Hunter.

Hunter nimbly flips to the side to dodge, then cloaks himself in his golden flames.

They serve as a shield against the fireballs, causing them to fizzle out before they can reach Hunter’s body and cause any harm.

Hunter’s flames fade before he launches himself at Ozzy again. He moves like a bullet, so fast you might miss him if you blink.

Just as he reaches Ozzy and swings, Ozzy drops through a portal. Another portal appears to Hunter’s left.

Ozzy shoots out, delivering a powerful flying kick toward Hunter. Hunter anticipates this move and grabs his leg, flinging him through the air like a catapult.

Hunter chases after Ozzy’s falling form, ready to pound him. Ozzy unfurls his wings, regaining control before engaging in hand-to-hand combat with Hunter.

Knowing he won’t be able to hold his own against Hunter in this type of fight for long, he quickly hurls three fireballs in different directions—one over Hunter’s shoulder, one at the floor, and another just past his side.

Ozzy winks at Hunter—this was his plan. He’s created portals for those fireballs. They all come hurtling back through the portals at full speed.

Hunter is hit by the first but manages to dodge the remaining two by springing forward into a roll, landing softly despite his large frame.

“You’re going down, brother!” Hunter taunts.

From his crouched position, Hunter sweeps Ozzy’s legs out from under him. Before Hunter can react and continue his planned attack, Eddie announces that today’s session is over.

Ozzy hits the floor with a loud thud. Hunter stands over him, his hand outstretched, ready to help his brother up—Ozzy gratefully accepts.

Once he’s back on his feet, Ozzy slaps Hunter on the back in silent thanks for the match.

He’s not one for talking much unless he feels it’s necessary. He prefers to watch.

If you don’t know Ozzy well, he can be quite intimidating, not just because of his size, which is leaner than Hunter’s, but because he can sometimes seem a bit…unstable.

He’s not a bad guy, but his demeanor and the way he speaks give him an air of danger.

Hunter, on the other hand, despite his dangerous power, comes across as much more open and friendly. That might be because Hunter is deliberately suppressing his dominant aura.

They leave the training grounds, laughing and playfully jabbing each other in the ribs. I hurry over to catch up with them.

“Hey, guys!” I call out.

They stop and turn, their faces breaking into wide smiles.

“You both were amazing!” I say as I stop in front of them.

“Thanks, Mae! You looked like you’ve improved since your last spar with Elsie too,” Hunter says, even though I suspect he’s just trying to boost my spirits.

I laugh. “Ha! Thanks, but I’m still getting my ass kicked by a tiny Fairy every time!” I joke, rubbing my sore butt.

“Want me to rip off her pretty, little wings?” Ozzy asks, a sinister smile on his face.

This is what I mean…unstable. I know he’s joking and I can assure you, he wouldn’t hurt a fly unless it deserved it.

But to others…well, he’s enough to make them turn tail and run screaming.

“No Fairies need to be harmed on my account,” I say, punching Ozzy in the arm. He pretends to be hurt, probably to spare my wolf-less ego.

“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me,” he says, winking playfully.

Well…at least I think he’s joking.