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168
Hybrid. The word echoed through my mind, heavy with implications I struggled to grasp.

There was no credible evidence that a creature could exist as both werewolf and vampire. Legends spoke of a faint possibility—a child born of both species—but no records had ever confirmed it. The closest thing to an answer lay in the notes provided by Dr. Caspian Blackwell, compiled after his examination of one of the degenerates.

Caspian had identified striking similarities between these beings and common vampires, suggesting that whoever created them had to be of noble vampire lineage or at least carried a significant amount of noble blood. Yet, their relentless hunger was something else entirely, more akin to those afflicted by a commoner vampire’s bite—the vampire degenerates. Unlike traditional vampires, these hybrid degenerates lacked fangs, instead possessing massive jaws lined with razor-sharp teeth. Their claws, too, were different—not the elegant, blade-like talons of a vampire but the curved, deadly nails of a wolf. Towering at least 6’7”, their forms bore a disturbing resemblance to werewolves in their bipedal state, a grotesque fusion of both creatures.

The very description sent a chill through the room. Dread settled in my bones as the stark reality struck me—my human body was woefully unprepared for what lay ahead. If I wanted to survive, I would have to push far beyond my limits.

My gaze drifted to Hadrian. He was restless, his worry for me etched into every tense line of his body. He had yielded to my stubborn insistence to fight, but we both knew the truth—he couldn’t guarantee my safety in battle. That wasn’t what I wanted. I wasn’t here to burden him with fear; I was here to fight at his side. Yet, a gnawing doubt crept in. Could I truly help? Could I find a strategy—like I had before—to outmatch these creatures?

I forced a reassuring smile at Hadrian, feigning confidence I didn’t feel. He returned it, playing along with the charade, though we both knew he saw straight through it.

Gareth’s voice broke the silence, concluding the meeting with grim finality.

“There is one rule in this battle,” he said, his tone like iron. “No prisoners. We kill. These creatures exist for one purpose—to feed and destroy. It doesn’t matter if it’s human, wolf, or vampire blood. Those who hesitate, who show mercy, will be the first to die.”

His eyes landed on me, the unspoken warning clear.

I shifted uneasily in my seat.

Killing—no matter the justification—had never sat right with me. And knowing that these degenerates had once been ordinary humans only made it harder to stomach. But I understood Gareth’s point. They were human—once. But that part of them was gone, beyond salvation. This was irreversible.

There was no choice but to fight.

The battle preparations began immediately. I was tasked with leading three teams assigned to evacuate civilians—both humans and weaker wolves—from the western districts. The degenerates had already begun encircling the area, leaving the town’s center as the only viable refuge.

The town hall had sent out emergency alerts, warning every resident—human and wolf alike—but that wasn’t enough. We had to go door to door, ensuring people left before it was too late.

I knocked on one door, only to be met by a woman with crossed arms and a skeptical glare. A mother of three, she had no clue about the supernatural world that existed around her.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me exactly what kind of crisis we’re dealing with,” she declared. “Is it a fire? A flood? Because I’m not packing up my kids just because someone told me to.”

I clenched my jaw. I didn’t have time for this.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Step outside for a moment. Close the door behind you.”

She hesitated, but something in my tone must have convinced her. She obeyed.

“Wait here,” I instructed before turning on my heel.

I strode over to Icarus, gripping his elbow and pulling him toward the porch. He gave me a bewildered look but didn’t resist. The woman’s frown deepened as she eyed him suspiciously.

Icarus let out an exasperated sigh. “What exactly are we doing here?”

I met his gaze. “Show her your claws.”

His eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly,” I said, unflinching. “This will save time.”

The woman’s gaze flickered between us, suspicion growing.

Icarus inhaled sharply, then reluctantly extended his hand. In an instant, his nails elongated into six-inch dagger-like claws.

The woman’s scream nearly shook the porch.

“Monster!” she shrieked, stumbling back, her wide eyes darting for an escape.

I quickly stepped in front of Icarus, shielding him from whatever object she might decide to throw next.

“He’s one of the good guys,” I assured her, my voice firm. “But trust me—you don’t want to meet the bad ones. Now stop arguing and get your kids. You have fifteen minutes.”

This time, she didn’t protest.

She nodded frantically before sprinting back into the house to prepare for evacuation. I exhaled and turned to Icarus, bowing slightly as I mouthed a silent apology and a heartfelt thank you. He responded with a wink, a small yet reassuring gesture that made me smile despite the chaos around us. His presence had proven to be invaluable—he had a way with people, an uncanny ability to make them believe whatever he told them. If only I could say the same for myself…

In under an hour, we had successfully relocated nearly ninety percent of those living in the danger zone to the safer town center. As the one who had organized the evacuation and secured temporary shelter for the displaced, I felt a rare sense of accomplishment. But even amid that small victory, the weight of what had happened pressed down on me. The humans had learned of the supernatural world in the harshest way possible. Some took it better than expected, accepting the truth with quiet shock. Others spiraled into panic, screaming and sobbing, unable to process what they had just discovered. As furious as I still was with Hazel, I had to admit that her stash of sedatives proved invaluable—those who needed them were dosed, helping us regain control of the situation. Slowly, humans began to accept that they weren’t the most advanced species walking this planet.

"Thalassa, there are a few houses on the western hill, five miles outside town," Alistair said, handing me a crumpled list of addresses. "The people living there weren’t registered with the town hall. They don’t know what’s coming."

"Shit," I muttered under my breath.

Alistair had passed the task to me because he and Ronan were preoccupied with arming the town—silver and aconite bullets, a special mix they hoped would take down the hybrids. Icarus had already left, overseeing the fortifications in the south. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed three volunteers and headed for the van.

"Wait! Let me drive!" Leif’s voice rang out as he ran toward us, his face flushed from exertion.

Relieved to see a familiar face, I nodded. He grinned, slid into the driver’s seat, and within seconds, we were speeding toward the western border.

The further we drove, the narrower the road became, until the pavement vanished beneath us, replaced by a winding dirt path that cut through the dense forest. The houses were in a clearing deep within the woods, standing eerily isolated. It took longer than expected to reach them, but eventually, we spotted four homes, spaced no more than fifty meters apart. Leif pulled up in front of the closest one.

I stepped out and motioned for one of the volunteers—a blonde she-wolf—to follow me to the first house. Meanwhile, Leif and the two other Blue Moon wolves headed for the second.

The moment we neared the door, a shiver ran down my spine. The air felt different—thicker, suffocating. Something was wrong. I stole a glance at the other three houses, my unease growing as I realized the eerie silence surrounding us. No birds. No rustling leaves. Not even the faint hum of insects. Just… nothing.

"Stay alert," I warned the she-wolf, my voice barely above a whisper.

I knocked. No answer. My pulse quickened, a creeping dread tightening around my chest. I knocked again, harder this time, pressing my ear against the door, straining to catch any sign of life inside.

Nothing.

Swallowing down my unease, I stepped back and kicked the door open.

The she-wolf inhaled sharply, then froze. Her nostrils flared as her eyes widened in horror.

"Blood," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

I nodded stiffly. The stench of death was thick in the air, curling around us like an invisible noose. Forcing myself to move, I stepped into the house, each footfall feeling heavier than the last. A short hallway led to the main room—where the first body lay.

A middle-aged man. His arm severed, his stomach torn open, one leg bearing the unmistakable marks of teeth. My breath hitched. I forced myself to look past him, only to find three more bodies crumpled in the kitchen.

The she-wolf barely made it two steps inside before she turned and bolted, the sound of her retching reaching me a moment later.

I stayed frozen in place, staring at the carnage before me. A woman, likely his wife, lay sprawled in the center of the floor, her skull crushed, shards of bone and brain matter painting the wooden planks beneath her. Near the bathroom door, two small bodies curled together—children, their throats slashed as if they’d tried to run but hadn’t made it in time.

A violent tremor overtook my body. My stomach twisted in a sickening knot, but there was no time to break down. No time to grieve.

Because whatever did this… was still close.

A flicker of movement. Too fast. Right behind me.

I spun around, but the space was empty. Still, the air vibrated with something—something unseen, something waiting.

Shit.

I bolted for the door, but the moment I stepped outside, my breath caught in my throat.

The she-wolf’s body lay sprawled on the ground. Lifeless. Headless.

A choked gasp left my lips. My fingers curled around the hilt of my knife as I took a slow step forward, forcing myself to focus. To listen.

There.

A whisper of sound, so faint it could have been the wind. But it wasn’t.

"The roof," I breathed.

Without hesitation, I threw my knife upward, aiming for the monstrous shadow looming above me.

A sickening squelch. A guttural scream.

The creature leaped down, landing mere inches away. Its massive form towered over me, its breath hot and heavy, lips curled back in a snarl. The glowing eyes bored into mine, and I finally saw it for what it was—feral, bloodthirsty, something beyond a nightmare.

My heart pounded.

I swallowed hard.

"Oh, fuck…"