Knots of the Hybrid Queen: Claimed by Four Alphas

Chapter 35: Before The Storm

The witch arrived at dawn which felt ominous because nothing good ever happened at dawn in my experience.

Her name was Morgana—because of course it was—and she looked exactly like you’d picture a witch council head: tall, silver hair, eyes that seemed to see through you to whatever ugly truths you were hiding.

She also radiated power in a way that made my hindbrain scream run while my vampire side said interesting.

"So." She studied me like I was a specimen under glass. "You’re the Hybrid Queen."

Not a question. An assessment.

"That’s what the prophecy says." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "Whether I actually am or not seems to be up for debate."

Her mouth twitched. "At least you’re honest about your uncertainty. Most would posture."

"I’m too tired for posturing." True and embarrassing. "Do you want the alliance pitch or do you want to tell me why you’re really here?"

Kael’s alarm spiked through the bond but I ignored it because I was done pretending to be something I wasn’t.

Morgana’s smile widened. "Direct. I appreciate that." She gestured to the chairs in Kael’s study. "Sit. We talk."

We sat.

She studied me for five seconds that felt like an hour. "The demon’s army numbers fifteen now. Not ten."

My stomach dropped. "How do you—"

"The witches have been watching the demon since it first awoke. We knew the Hybrid Queen would either save us or doom us." Her eyes were serious. "We need to know which one you are."

"I’m trying to be the first one." The words came out tired. "I’m uniting the factions. I’ve got four packs and a vampire coven. I need the witches."

"And if we refuse?"

"Then we probably all die and the demon wins." Honesty felt easier than lies. "Because I don’t think I can stop fifteen demon-spawn without help."

She was quiet for long enough I thought she’d say no, that this whole trip was pointless, that we’d lose the witches before we even had a chance.

"The witches will join your alliance." Her voice was crisp. "On one condition."

Of course there was a condition. There was always a condition.

"What?"

"You train with us. Learn to harness your hybrid power properly instead of relying on raw instinct and bond strength." She stood. "Three days. That’s all the time we have before the demon attacks. You train with me for three days and I teach you what the previous Hybrid Queen should have learned."

Three days of witch training on top of everything else.

My hands were shaking and I fisted them in my lap.

"Okay." The word came out small. "When do we start?"

"Now." She pulled something from her bag—a crystal that pulsed with light. "We start with seeing what you’re actually capable of."

Turns out what I was actually capable of was passing out from magical exhaustion after two hours.

Which was embarrassing but also apparently normal for hybrids trying to use witch magic without training, so at least I wasn’t uniquely terrible at this.

I woke up in my bed with Draven sitting in the chair by the window, book open on his lap but eyes on me.

"How long was I out?" My voice came out rough.

"Four hours." He set the book aside. "Morgana pushed you harder than she should have." freewebnovёl.ƈom

"She’s trying to teach me three years of training in three days." I sat up and immediately regretted it when my head spun. "I’d push hard too."

He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his hand finding mine. "You’re going to burn yourself out if you keep this pace."

"I don’t have a choice." My throat was tight. "The demon attacks in three days. Either I’m ready or people die."

"People die anyway." Quiet and certain. "You can’t save everyone."

"I can try." The words cracked my voice. "I can—" I couldn’t finish.

His arms came around me and I pressed my face against his chest while my hands fisted in his shirt.

"I’m scared." The confession tore out raw. "I’m scared I’m not going to be strong enough. I’m scared you’re going to end up back with Lysander. I’m scared I’m going to watch more people die because I failed."

"I know." His hand stroked through my hair. "I can feel it through the bond."

"Then why do you all keep believing in me?" My voice came out small. "How can you have so much faith when I keep proving I’m not worth it?"

"Because you keep showing up." Simple. Direct. "You’re terrified and you show up anyway. That’s not weakness. That’s strength."

I wanted to believe him.

The knock on the door made us both turn.

Riven entered with food I desperately needed and water I’d probably forgotten to drink.

"Morgana says you need to eat before the next session." He set the tray on the nightstand. "And that if you pass out again she’s making you take a full day to recover."

"I don’t have a full day." I reached for the water. "I have three days and I’ve already lost four hours."

"You have three days and you’re going to use them wisely instead of killing yourself trying to cram." Kael’s voice from the doorway. "Morgana’s orders. Not mine."

I wanted to argue. Wanted to point out that wise wasn’t going to save us if I wasn’t strong enough.

But the look in all three of their eyes said this wasn’t negotiable.

"Fine." I started eating because arguing on an empty stomach seemed pointless. "But I’m training tonight. After I’ve eaten and rested."

"No." Draven’s voice was firm. "Tonight you recover. Tomorrow you train."

"People are going to die while I’m recovering." The words came out sharp.

"And more people will die if you burn out before the fight even starts." His hand cupped my face. "Trust us. Please."

The please broke me.

"Okay." My voice came out tired. "I’ll rest."

Through the bonds I felt their relief mixing with concern.

I finished eating while they fussed over me in ways that would have been annoying if it wasn’t also kind of nice, and when Kael and Riven left to handle pack business Draven stayed.

"You don’t have to babysit me." I set the empty plate aside. "I’m fine."

"You passed out from magical exhaustion." His mouth twitched. "That’s not fine."

"I’m conscious now."

"Barely."

Fair point.

We sat in comfortable silence for maybe ten minutes before the tension shifted into awareness that had nothing to do with magical exhaustion and everything to do with how close he was sitting.

Through the bond his desire sparked, quiet but unmistakable.

"Draven." My voice came out breathless.

"I know." His hand found my thigh. "Tell me to leave."

"Stay." I pulled him closer. "I need—" I couldn’t finish.

He understood.

His mouth found mine and the kiss was slow and deliberate and honest in ways that made my chest crack open.

"We shouldn’t." Even as he said it his hands were sliding under my shirt. "You need to rest."

"I need you more." True and desperate. "I need to know you’re here. That you’re mine. That Lysander doesn’t get to have you."

That snapped whatever leash he’d been holding.

And when he claimed me again it was slow and careful and so full of emotion I cried, and he held me through it while the bonds pulsed warm and certain.

Ours. All ours.

Three days until the demon came.

Three days to prepare.

Three days until we either won or lost everything.

But tonight, wrapped in Draven’s arms with the bonds thrumming steady, I let myself believe we might actually survive this.