Malia“What?” Jamie’s voice cracked as he stared at Jude like he’d lost his mind. Jude held his hands up, his expression steady but serious. “She’s alive. Brooke’s holding her somewhere, locked up because she discovered something Brooke didn’t want getting out.” “That’s impossible,” Corey said, though his voice lacked its usual edge. “We saw her body. We—” “You saw what Brooke wanted you to see,” Jude interrupted. “Amara escaped being bitten by Aaliyah, but she saw Aaliyah's hybrid fangs. Aaliyah couldn't allow that to happen, so she brutally wounded Amara so she'd be treated and held hostage from there.” Corey still wasn’t convinced. He crossed his arms, his suspicious nature coming out in full force. “How do you know all of this? You seem to have answers for everything. Doesn’t that strike anyone else as... convenient?” Jude sighed. “Even now, you still don't believe me? All I've said makes perfect sense. Besides, when you've learned how to hide your hybrid side, you also
MaliaThe path to Jude’s lair wound deep through the woods, the air growing cooler and stiller with every step. It wasn’t the suffocating kind of silence, though—it was peaceful, the kind of quiet that felt deliberate, as though this place had been carefully hidden from the chaos of the world. When we finally arrived, I was struck by how different it was from what I expected. The lair wasn’t some foreboding underground fortress or a sinister, shadowy encampment. Instead, it was a small, makeshift village tucked into a sun-dappled clearing. The houses were simple, crafted from salvaged wood and stone, with patches of moss creeping up their sides. The men and women moved about, some working on repairing a roof, others tending to small, scraggly vegetable patches. Children ran barefoot across the clearing, their laughter ringing out like bells as they played tag and tumbled in the grass. No one had that cold, calculating look I’d always associated with hybrids. There were no malici
MaliaThat night, the four of us sat around the fire, its warm glow illuminating our faces against the darkened backdrop of Jude’s village. The soft hum of activity from the hybrids winding down their day surrounded us, blending seamlessly with the crackle of flames. Jamie broke the silence first, his voice laced with something like admiration. “You’ve got to admit,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “Jude pulled off something incredible here. I mean, look at this place. It’s hidden so well, and the people… they seem happy, safe.” He paused, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I don’t think anyone could harm them here, even if they tried.” Corey, who had been the most vocal in his doubts about Jude, was seated across from Jamie, and he was unusually quiet. He stared into the fire, the flames reflecting in his glasses, his usual smirk nowhere to be found. When he finally spoke, his tone was softer than I’d ever heard it. “I never thought…” He hesi
Asher The wind tore past me as I ran, each stride fueled by the chaos clawing at my mind. Branches snapped underfoot, and the forest blurred into streaks of green and gray. I didn’t have a destination—just an overwhelming need to escape. My body ached from the transformation, my muscles still trembling with leftover energy, but the pain was nothing compared to the disgust curdling in my stomach. When I finally stumbled to a halt, the world seemed to tilt around me. My lungs burned, and the bitter taste of bile rose in my throat. I was at the edge of a stream, its waters shimmering faintly under the moonlight. Kneeling, I cupped the icy water in my hands and splashed it onto my face, hoping to wash away the memories of what I’d almost done. The water was calm, the surface reflecting a version of me I hardly recognized. My jaw was sharper, my cheekbones more pronounced. But it wasn’t just the physical changes that bothered me—it was my eyes. They glowed faintly, an eerie gold that
Asher I couldn't believe it. Aaliyah bit Malia even before I started to fight her—how she managed that speed is beyond me. How I missed it was beyond me. It was then I realized what Aaliyah’s special trait was. She was super fast. It's the same way with how she nearly bit Amara, and no one noticed. Only this time, with Malia, she didn't miss. Malia was unresponsive. All attempts to get her to respond—to give me some kind of hope that she was alive were futile. Aaliyah—that monster, she took Malia from me. All that I felt afterwards was a torrent of rage. “You—” The words caught in my throat, swallowed by the tidal wave of rage that crashed over me. My vision blurred, everything around me fading into a haze of red. The hybrid instincts I’d fought so hard to suppress surged to the surface, and I felt my body shift. Claws extended. Fangs bared. My breathing grew ragged, each exhale a guttural growl. Aaliyah, my mother—no, Brooke, and all her allies, they’d taken everythin
Asher I never imagined that a day would come when I could feel this complete again. With Malia in my arms, her warmth grounding me, I felt like I had been living in a fog for too long—a fog that only lifted when she was near. The kiss I pressed to her lips was born from desperation, from relief, from the overwhelming need to make up for every second we’d lost. The world around us disappeared as I poured everything I felt for her into that moment. I broke the kiss, my forehead resting against hers as I whispered, “I swear to you, Malia, I will never leave your side again. No matter what happens, I won’t walk away.” She nodded, her fingers threading through my hair as she held me close. “I know, Asher. I know.” The sound of footsteps broke the stillness, and we both turned to see Jude and the others entering the room. Their presence reminded me of what we were about to do—what we had to do. “We’ve got work to do,” Jude said, his voice calm but serious. I gave a quick
Malia The moment I woke, a sharp gasp escaped my lips, as though my lungs were desperate to remind me they still worked. My vision blurred momentarily, but the first thing I saw when it cleared was Asher’s face, his expression torn between relief and disbelief. His arms were around me before I could make sense of anything, holding me so tightly I could feel the tremor in his body. “You’re here,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters.” I blinked, dazed. My neck throbbed with a dull ache, and fragments of what had happened flashed in my mind—the pinch on my neck, the searing pain, the blood… the overwhelming feeling that I was slipping away. “I thought I—” I began, but Asher cut me off. “No,” he said firmly, pulling back just enough to look me in the eye. His gaze was intense, desperate, as though he needed to make me believe the truth. “You’re here, Malia. That’s all that matters now.” I nodded, though my mind still felt
Malia Sitting on the bed in Jude’s lair, I stared at the faint cracks in the wooden ceiling, my mind reeling from what Corey had just told me. I’d died. Not metaphorically or as a dramatic exaggeration—actually died. And Asher had brought me back with magic. The words were too surreal to grasp. Jamie cleared his throat, leaning back against the wall. “You’re probably wondering how Asher even managed to do it, right?” “Wondering?” I snapped my gaze to him. “That doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Jamie shrugged, his nonchalant demeanor contrasting the gravity of the conversation. “Look, I don’t know for sure, but if I had to guess, it’s because of his bloodline. Hybrids are a mix of werewolves and witches, right? That kind of power doesn’t just vanish into thin air, even if both of Asher’s parents were hybrids. He probably inherited some magical aptitude from a grandparent. Or maybe even further back in his lineage.” “That doesn’t explain why magic isn’t common among us,” I said,
AsherI ended the call with the harp twins and slipped my phone into my pocket, my mind spinning. Every instinct in me screamed that something wasn’t right. This wasn’t just some twisted revenge from Jamie. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew that the girl Jamie had wasn’t some imposter. It was Malia. The real Malia. And she was running out of time. I had to get to her. Now. I turned toward the door, already planning the fastest route to Storm Pack territory, when a cold shiver ran down my spine. My steps slowed. The air grew heavy—thick, charged with something unnatural. Magic. I spun just as the lights in the hallway dimmed and the temperature dropped. A gust of wind howled through the room, shattering the calm. The shadows stretched unnaturally long, curling across the walls like living things. And then—they appeared. Three hooded figures emerged from the darkness, dressed in heavy black robes embroidered with silver runes. Their faces were hidden beneath the hoods, but their pr
MaliaI couldn’t take it anymore—his voice, his accusations, the constant weight of his blame pressing down on me. Every word Jamie spoke was like a knife slicing through what little strength I had left. My body ached, the ropes biting into my wrists and ankles, the gag dry and scratchy against my lips. My throat burned for water, but no one cared. No one would listen. Maybe this was it—maybe I was meant to die here, tied to a post in the woods like some kind of monster. A witch. I let my head fall back against the rough bark behind me, my hair falling wild and tangled over my face. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the sound of Jamie’s voice as he muttered under his breath. He was pacing now, but his anger hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had grown darker, heavier. It didn’t matter what I did. Nothing I said would ever convince him—or anyone—that I wasn’t the person who accused Corey. That I wasn’t the reason his brother was dead. They had already made up their minds.
Malia As the hours dragged on, the mob slowly began to thin out. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows through the trees, but some wolves remained—hovering on the edges, eager to witness my punishment if Asher didn’t come. Their eyes burned with hatred and bloodlust, and no matter how much I tried to avoid their stares, I could still feel their judgment pressing down on me like a crushing weight. My throat burned with thirst. The gag chafed against the corners of my mouth, and every breath felt shallow and strained. My limbs were aching from being tied in the same position for so long, and the rough ropes dug into my wrists with every twitch. I tried to swallow against the dryness in my throat, but it only made the ache worse. I tried to make a sound—something, anything—to get someone’s attention. My voice was weak and muffled beneath the gag, but I hoped someone—anyone—would notice that I needed water. My tongue felt thick and heavy, and I was starting to feel di
MaliaThe ropes cut into my wrists, burning my skin with every slight movement. My arms were stretched above my head, bound tightly to the thick wooden post behind me. I could barely breathe around the filthy cloth stuffed into my mouth. My legs trembled beneath me, but I forced myself to stay upright. If I fell, I didn’t know if I’d have the strength to get back up. The air was thick with the smell of earth and pine, but it did nothing to mask the scent of anger—raw and violent—hanging over the crowd. Dozens of wolves surrounded me, their eyes burning with hatred. Their snarls filled the clearing, echoing through the woods. “Witch!” one of them growled. “Burn her!” another voice shouted from the crowd. A low, rhythmic chant began to rise. “Witch. Witch. Witch.”Tears blurred my vision, sliding down my face as I shook my head. I wanted to scream—to tell them they were wrong—but the gag muffled every sound. My heart pounded so loudly it drowned out their voices, but I couldn’t
Asher I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious. Time seemed to have slipped away, leaving me adrift in a sea of confusion and dread. The lingering scent of smoke, acrid and sharp, was the only tangible evidence of the terrifying encounter with Rayna. I pushed myself up, my body protesting with a groan. My head pounded, a dull ache that mirrored the turmoil in my mind. Rayna’s words echoed in the silence of the room, each syllable a dagger twisting in my heart. “You will have the whole world against you, Asher.”I stumbled to my feet, my legs shaky, my thoughts a whirlwind of fear and regret. Rayna was gone. Vanished, like a phantom in the night. But the consequences of her presence, of her revelations, were all too real. I looked around the living room, the familiar space now tainted with the memory of her chilling laughter, her fiery display of power. It felt like a different place, a place where my illusions had shattered, leaving behind only the cold, hard reality of
Asher The flames danced in her palms, a mocking display of power that sent a chill deeper than any winter wind through my bones. My mind reeled, trying to reconcile the gentle woman I thought I knew with this…person before me. “Who are you?” I demanded, my voice rough, barely a whisper. “What have you done with Malia?”The laughter that spilled from her lips was like ice on fire, a sound that scraped against my soul. It wasn’t Malia’s laugh. It was sharper, colder, laced with an amusement that bordered on cruelty. “Malia?” she echoed, tilting her head. The fire in her hands crackled, throwing flickering shadows across the room. “Such a quaint notion.”A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I stumbled back, my hand grasping for the edge of the table. “You’re not her,” I breathed, the realization hitting me with the force of a physical blow. “You’re not Malia.”Her smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed just a little too sharp, a little too predatory. “That's right,” she
AsherThe room felt like it was shrinking. The walls pressed in, the air thick and suffocating. I gripped the edge of my desk, fingers digging into the wood as I struggled to steady my breathing. My vision blurred at the edges, the faint flicker of candlelight casting long, trembling shadows across the walls. My heart was racing—pounding against my ribs with a force so violent that it hurt. I couldn’t stop the tremors in my hands. The weight in my chest was unbearable, and for the first time in a long time, I felt something I had convinced myself I was immune to. Panic. Not the kind I felt in battle—not the sharp, fleeting rush of adrenaline that kept me moving, kept me fighting. No, this was different. It was cold and heavy, sinking into my bones and coiling around my throat like a vice. Because for two weeks, I had believed—no, I had known—that I was right. I had done what needed to be done. Corey had to die. His death wasn’t just necessary; it was justice.He had hu
MaliaEverything was slipping away.Black spots flickered in my vision, and my limbs felt heavy, useless. Jamie's grip was unrelenting, his hand a vice around my throat, cutting off my air, my thoughts—everything.I thrashed, kicking weakly, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t letting go. Everything around me was a confusing blur. I saw flames and angry faces, but nothing made sense. I clawed at his hand, my nails scraping against his skin, but his hold remained unshakeable. Panic clawed at my throat, a cold fist squeezing the last vestiges of air from my lungs. I thought this was it.Just as darkness threatened to swallow me whole, his grip loosened, and I collapsed like a ragdoll. My knees hit the hard ground, pain shooting up my legs, but I barely felt it. I sucked in a desperate, ragged breath, my throat burning, my lungs aching. Air flooded into my lungs, feeling painful and intense. I coughed violently, gasping, my hands shaking as I reached for my bruised neck. Jamie had let
Malia*Present day*The air was thick with smoke and the raw scent of sweat and fury. I stood off to the side, partially hidden by the jagged remains of a collapsed wall, watching as Jamie faced down the Lycan guards. His hair, once a shade lighter, had darkened in the past two weeks, as if grief had stripped the warmth from him. But it was his eyes that unsettled me the most. Behind the familiar glasses, his irises glowed an unnatural green—a sign of a vengeful Alpha. A warning to all who dared to stand in his way. "Give me my brother’s body." His voice rang through the tense silence like a blade being unsheathed. The crowd of wolves behind him—Storm Pack, rogue allies, and furious onlookers—rumbled in agreement, their anger a living, breathing thing. The Lycan guards, their silver-plated armor catching the flickering firelight, held their ground. Shields locked, weapons drawn, their stances unyielding. "You are not permitted entry into Lycone," one of the guards stated, hi