Chapter 6

The fact gnawed at me, filling me with dread. My kind was rare, powerful, and unpredictable. I mean, since ancient times, I've been the first in this millennium. I heard a myth about hybrids—half vampire, half wolf—but it was just a myth from a very long time ago. There were people, creatures even, who would do unspeakable things to harness that power. But not him.

No. I shook my head, trying to dispel the grotesque witches, forcing myself to focus. This vampire—this dangerous, vicious being standing before me—wouldn’t do that to me. He was lethal, no doubt about that, but he hadn’t betrayed me yet. I’d seen something in his eyes back when he found me, half-dead and surrounded by witches. They were about to slice me open like a lab rat, and he’d stormed in, unleashing hell and tearing them apart with raw, destructive power. His fury had been terrifying, but it hadn’t been directed at me. He’d saved me. He’d killed nearly all of them.

I couldn’t forget that.

“How did you get in?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him, suspicion creeping into my voice. It was how I always looked at people—with suspicion first, trust later, if ever. “This is one of the shifters’ most fortified military compounds. The most powerful pack in the continent.”

It was a question I needed to ask, but not the only one. There were so many questions I had for him—things that didn’t add up, things that made no sense. Why me? Why go to such lengths to protect someone like me? My life had always been teetering on the edge of chaos, but this was something else. There was a mystery surrounding him, and as much as it unnerved me, I was too curious to ignore it. Hell, I’d probably follow him into the depths of Hell just to get some answers.

Silence.

I heard nothing from him, so I continued. “Did you kill the guards?” I pursued, my voice a little sharper than I intended. It wasn’t an accusation—more like a demand for the truth. The idea of him slaughtering my kind made my stomach churn. Shifters were my people, my kin, despite the tangled mess my life had become.

Unless it was necessary, I didn’t want him to kill any shifters. I couldn’t bear the thought of my people falling at his hands, even if they’d probably rip me apart if they knew what I truly was—a hybrid abomination in their eyes.

But then, a small, insidious voice chimed in my head, one I’d been ignoring for far too long.

Are they really your kind?

I froze at the thought. The truth twisted inside me like a blade. Were they really my people? The shifters had never accepted me, not fully. I was too different, too dangerous. Even before I knew what I truly was, they sensed the wrongness in me—the way I didn’t quite fit. My hybrid nature made me an outcast, a threat.

And here I was, worried about them, when they’d just as soon see me dead if they knew what I really was. The voice in my head echoed again, more insistent this time.

You don’t owe them anything.

But I couldn’t shut off that part of myself, the part that still wanted to belong somewhere, the part that still clung to the idea that I could be one of them, that I could have a place among the shifters, even if it was a lie. Even if it had always been a lie.

He watched me, his gaze steady, as if he knew the storm raging inside me. He didn’t answer right away, letting the silence stretch between us. I felt the weight of his presence, the power radiating off him in waves. But there was something else too—something more subtle, more... careful. It wasn’t like him to hold back.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low, calm, but carrying an edge of danger. “I didn’t kill anyone who didn’t deserve it.” His gaze didn’t waver, and for a moment, I almost believed him.

Almost.

“Besides,” he continued, a dark smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “I’m not here to slaughter your kind. If I wanted to, this compound would already be ashes. You know that.”

Okay, he was an ass.

But yeah, I did know that. And as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. He wasn’t here for a bloodbath. Not yet, anyway.

But that didn’t mean I trusted him. Not by a long shot.

“Then why me? Was it because I'm a hybrid?”

Jason ignored my attempts at conversation, his attention solely on the heavy cuffs that encircled my ankles. His eyes, usually cold and calculating, now burnt with an intensity that almost startled me, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

“First, we need to get those off you,” he said, his voice low but fierce, cutting through the air like a blade. “From now on, no one shall shackle you. I don’t care if you drain the entire village; I won’t allow anyone to put you in chains.”

Wait…what the hell did he mean by that?

Ignoring his words, I frowned deeper.

His words hit me harder than I expected. Woah. That was... unexpected. There was something raw in his tone, something protective, though he delivered the statement with a coldness that matched the man I’d come to know.

Cute. The thought flitted across my mind before I could stop it, and I scowled, annoyed at myself for even thinking about it. This wasn’t the time for my brain to get distracted by strange, ridiculous thoughts. Especially not about Jason. The vampire king.

I shook the feeling off and focused on his words, but they echoed with something darker. His voice, despite its fierceness, was lined with regret, a subtle undercurrent of guilt that I hadn’t missed. It was like he’d seen something—something I didn’t remember, or something I wasn’t sure I wanted to remember. Had I done despicable things? Horrors that were so bad the witches had felt justified in drugging me, strapping me down, and dissecting me like an animal on that cold table?

I could still hear the voices of the witch and mage hunters in the woods, shouting as they pursued me, "We can’t let the hybrid get away!" The word hybrid clung to me like a curse.

Was that what I was? Was that why the witches had been so desperate to keep me restrained, to cut me open, to see what made me tick?

No. I pushed the thought away. The witches were evil and twisted. Whatever they had done, whatever they claimed, didn’t make it true. I wasn’t going to let myself become a sucker who believed it was all my fault that bad things had happened. They were the ones who put me in chains, not me.

“That’s sweet of you, sir," I said, my voice light but my mind still spinning. "But how are you going to remove the tracking device?” I pointed at the cuffs. “It shocked me when I tried. One time, I nearly passed out. I don’t want to faint on you, you know, and be a liability.”

His eyes flicked up to meet mine, sharp and serious. “Sit up straight and remain still,” he ordered, not giving me an inch of room to argue. His hand disappeared into the pocket of his trench coat, and when it reemerged, he held a small vial of corn-blue liquid.

What the hell?

Poison?

He was going to poison me?