Knots of the Hybrid Queen: Claimed by Four Alphas

The first vampire came at me fast enough I barely got shadows up in time to deflect claws that would have opened my throat.

No training. No warning. Just suddenly fighting for my life in a vampire coven’s front yard while Draven’s panic spiked through our bond sharp enough to make my chest ache.

I pushed the shadows outward in a wave and watched one vampire stagger back, but the other four were already moving and I was not prepared for how fast vampires could be when they actually tried.

One got past my defenses and raked claws down my arm, four parallel lines that burned like fire.

My blood hit the air.

Every vampire stopped moving.

Oh. Right. Hybrid blood. Offensive to their senses or—wait, why were they all staring at me like I was dinner?

"Don’t." Lysander’s voice cut across the clearing. "She bleeds but she’s not prey."

The vampires pulled back but their eyes stayed locked on my arm where blood was dripping onto dead leaves.

Great. Fantastic. I’d managed to make myself simultaneously offensive and appetizing. Love that for me.

"Enough." Draven moved to stand between me and the vampires, and the protective fury bleeding through our bond was strong enough I actually stumbled. "She’s proven herself. We talk now."

"Has she?" Lysander descended the manor steps again, his gaze tracking the blood on my arm with interest that made my skin crawl. "She defended adequately. That’s not proof of anything except basic survival instinct."

"What do you want from me?" The question tore out harsher than I meant. "You want me to what, kill one of them? Prove I’m dangerous enough to be worth your time?"

"I want you to show me you understand what you’re asking." Lysander stopped in front of Draven, and the way he looked at him made my stomach turn. "Alliance means we fight beside you. Die beside you if necessary. Why would we do that for a hybrid we don’t know and a weapon who abandoned us?"

Weapon.

He kept calling Draven a weapon.

Through the bond I felt Draven’s shame spike so sharp I actually gasped.

"Draven’s not a weapon." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "He’s my mate. My bond. And he left because you used him like—"

"Selene." Draven’s voice was tight. "Don’t."

But I was done being quiet while this vampire talked about him like he was a thing instead of a person.

"What did you do to him?" I met Lysander’s eyes and didn’t care that every instinct said this was a terrible idea. "Fourteen years ago. What did you do that made him leave?"

Lysander’s smile was slow and cruel. "I taught him what he was made for."

The casual way he said it made my blood boil.

"He was made to be a person." My hands were shaking and I fisted them at my sides. "Not whatever—"

"He was made to be the perfect predator." Lysander circled me again. "Vampire and wolf combined. The best of both species. Faster than pure wolves. Stronger than pure vampires. Controllable."

Controllable.

The word landed like a physical blow.

"I wasn’t controllable." Draven’s voice came out cold. Empty. "That’s why I left."

"No." Lysander turned to face him fully. "You left because you were weak. Because you couldn’t handle doing what was necessary to protect the coven."

"You used me to torture wolves who crossed into our territory." Draven’s jaw was tight enough I heard his teeth click. "You used me to—"

He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Through the bond I felt the full weight of what he wasn’t saying—years of being forced to hurt people, to kill people, to be the coven’s weapon against anyone who threatened them.

My heart tried to break through my ribs.

"You were the coven’s shield." Lysander’s voice stayed level. "That’s not torture. That’s purpose."

"That’s slavery." I couldn’t stop the words. "You enslaved him and called it purpose."

Silence.

Then Lysander laughed, cold and sharp. "Slavery implies he was unwilling. Tell her, Draven. Tell her how many years you obeyed before you finally found your spine."

Through the bond Draven’s shame was so sharp I could barely breathe around it.

"Fourteen years." Lysander’s voice was clinical. "Fourteen years he did exactly what I told him. Hunted who I told him to hunt. Killed who I told him to kill. He was the perfect weapon until he met a wolf who begged for mercy and suddenly his conscience remembered it existed."

Draven flinched.

That was—God, that was why he left. Because he’d killed someone who begged and couldn’t live with it anymore.

My chest cracked open.

"Get to the point." Draven’s voice was hoarse. "Why tell her this?"

"Because she’s asking me to ally with a hybrid I don’t know and a weapon who proved he can’t be trusted." Lysander’s eyes went cold. "How do I know you won’t fail again? How do I know the moment things get difficult you won’t run like you did before?"

"He won’t." I stepped forward before I could stop myself. "Because he’s not your weapon anymore. He’s mine. And I don’t use people I love."

The words hung in the air.

Love. I’d said love.

Through the bond Draven’s shock mixed with something warm that made my throat tight.

Lysander studied me for five seconds that felt like an hour. Then his expression shifted into something I couldn’t read.

"You love him." Not a question. "Despite knowing what he is. What he’s done."

"I know what he was forced to do." The correction mattered. "And yeah. I love him anyway."

"Interesting." Lysander turned to Draven. "You’ve bonded well. She’s loyal even when it’s stupid."

Rude. But not technically wrong.

"The alliance." Draven’s voice was tight. "Yes or no."

Lysander was quiet for long enough I thought he’d say no, that we’d driven three hours for nothing, that I’d just learned the worst of Draven’s past and we still wouldn’t have the alliance we needed.

"Conditional." Lysander’s voice was crisp. "You fight alongside us against the demon. You prove the prophecy is real. And if you fail—" His smile turned sharp. "Draven comes back to the coven. Permanently."

My blood turned to ice. "No."

"That’s my offer." Lysander didn’t blink. "Take it or leave it."

Through the bond I felt Draven’s resignation mixing with grim acceptance.

"Draven, no—"

"We take it." His voice was flat. "I agree to your terms."

"No!" I grabbed his arm. "You can’t—I won’t let you—"

"It’s my choice." He looked at me and his eyes were sad. "If we fail, the demon kills everyone anyway. At least this way the coven survives."

"But you’ll be—"

"Enslaved again." He finished for me. "I know."

The casual way he said it broke me.

Lysander’s smile widened. "We have an accord. The coven will fight with you. And when you fail, Draven returns to us."

When. Not if.

He thought we were going to lose.

And Draven had just bet his freedom on proving him wrong.