Knots of the Hybrid Queen: Claimed by Four Alphas

Chapter 63: Emissaries

The three visitors were Fae which I knew because they were beautiful in ways that made my brain hurt to look at directly, like their features kept shifting between perfect and more perfect and my eyes couldn’t quite focus.

Also they introduced themselves as Fae emissaries so that was a pretty solid clue.

"Hybrid Queen." The one in front—tall, androgynous, with eyes that looked like liquid silver—inclined their head in what might have been respect or mockery, hard to tell with Fae. "We’ve been watching your progress. Impressive work with the demon."

Impressive work. Right. Because ninety-three casualties was totally impressive.

"Who are you?" Kael’s voice carried Alpha weight that usually made people answer immediately, but the Fae just smiled like he’d told a joke.

"I am Eirlys. This is Cadarn and Nerys." They gestured to the other two—one with bark-like skin and green eyes, one with features that looked carved from ice. "We represent the Seelie Court. We come with an offer."

An offer from the Fae. That sounded ominous and also like the beginning of a fairytale that ended badly, but we were kind of low on options so.

"What kind of offer?" I kept my voice neutral even though my brain was screaming that Fae bargains were notoriously dangerous.

"Alliance." Eirlys’s smile widened. "We’ve been monitoring The Root’s awakening for centuries. Cassia Blackthorn tried to fight it alone and failed. You destroyed her demon, which means The Root knows about you now. It will come for you. Soon."

It will come for you soon. Fantastic. Love how every solution created new problems.

"What is The Root?" Because Morgana’s research had been light on details beyond ancient evil waking up.

"Primordial darkness." Nerys’s voice sounded like ice cracking. "Older than the Fae courts. Older than most magic. It exists in the spaces between realities, feeding on supernatural power. Every few centuries it tries to break through. Usually someone contains it. This time—" She stopped. "This time it’s stronger."

Stronger. Right. Because of course the ancient evil was having a power-up.

"Cassia summoned seven demons to fight it." Cadarn’s voice rumbled like distant thunder. "The one you destroyed was the first. The other six are still bound, dormant, waiting. The Root wants to free them. Use them. If it succeeds—" He didn’t finish but the implication was clear.

If it succeeds we’re all dead. Got it.

"Why come to us?" Draven’s voice was clinical. Precise. "The Fae have power. Resources. Why do you need a fractured alliance of wolves and witches?"

"Because the Hybrid Queen destroyed a three-hundred-year-old binding." Eirlys looked directly at me. "Because you exist in contradiction, between states, in spaces where The Root cannot fully reach. You are the weapon Cassia never had."

The weapon. Right. Because being a person wasn’t enough, I had to be a weapon too.

"What exactly are you offering?" Kael’s voice had gone dangerously calm.

"Alliance. Resources. Training." Eirlys pulled out a scroll that looked older than time. "The Seelie Court will join your coalition. We will teach the Hybrid Queen to wield her power properly. We will help you prepare for The Root’s emergence."

"In exchange for?" Because Fae never offered anything without a price.

"Your commitment." Eirlys’s eyes locked on mine. "The Root will emerge within a year. You must be ready. You must lead the fight. And when we win—because we will win—the Hybrid Queen must swear fealty to the Seelie Court."

Swear fealty. Right. So in exchange for help fighting an ancient evil I had to become basically a Fae servant.

Hard pass.

"Absolutely not." Four voices through the bonds, overwhelming in their united rejection.

"Then you will face The Root alone." Eirlys’s voice was matter-of-fact. "And you will die. All of you. Along with every supernatural creature in North America. The Root does not stop. It does not negotiate. It consumes."

It consumes. Great. Very reassuring.

"We need to discuss this." I heard my voice go flat. "Privately. As an alliance."

"Of course." Eirlys inclined their head. "You have thirty days. After that, we withdraw our offer and return to the Fae lands. You face The Root on your own."

Thirty days. Right. Thirty days to decide if we wanted to accept help from the Fae or try to fight ancient primordial darkness with one hundred twenty-three fighters and hope.

No pressure.

The Fae vanished—literally just disappeared like they’d never been there—and we all stood there processing what had just happened.

"We can’t swear fealty to the Fae." Marcus’s voice was firm. "That’s—do you know what that means? They’d own you. Completely. Forever."

Forever. Right. Immortality meant Fae bargains lasted longer than human lifespans.

"We also can’t fight The Root alone." Morgana pulled up her research. "Cassia spent thirty years fighting it with seven demons and still lost. We have one hundred twenty-three fighters and some hybrid magic. The math isn’t mathing."

The math wasn’t mathing. Story of my life at this point.

"There has to be a middle ground." Riven’s voice was calm. Strategic. "Some negotiation. Some way to get Fae help without total servitude."

Middle ground. Right. Because the Fae were known for being flexible and reasonable.

"We have thirty days." Kael’s voice carried Alpha finality. "We use them. We research The Root. We train. We prepare. And we figure out if there’s a way to fight this without selling Selene’s soul to the Fae."

Without selling my soul. That seemed like a reasonable goal actually.

Except that night Morgana called another emergency meeting and when I saw the look on her face I knew it was bad.

"Show them." She gestured to the research spread across three tables.

Ancient texts. Cassia’s notes. Records from Fae courts that no longer existed. All of it pointing to the same conclusion.

The Root had destroyed three civilizations. Not small ones. Not struggling settlements. The Aztec empire at its peak. An entire Fae court in what was now Scotland. Something in Asia that predated written history.

"This section." Morgana pointed to a passage in Cassia’s handwriting. "She describes The Root’s emergence in 1347. The year before the Black Death hit Europe."

The year before the Black Death. My stomach dropped.

"You’re saying The Root caused the plague?" Marcus’s voice was tight.

"I’m saying The Root emerged, consumed massive supernatural power, and then forty percent of Europe’s population died over the next decade." Morgana pulled up more notes. "Cassia theorized The Root feeds on life force. When it breaks through, it doesn’t just kill supernaturals. It consumes everything. The plague was—" She had to stop. "Collateral damage."

Collateral damage. Forty percent of Europe. Millions dead as collateral damage.

"How did they stop it?" Because presumably someone had stopped it or we’d all be dead already.

"They didn’t." Draven’s voice was hollow. "They contained it. Pushed it back between realities. Sealed the breach. It took every supernatural faction on two continents and they barely succeeded."

Every faction on two continents. And we had one hundred twenty-three fighters.

The math really wasn’t mathing.

"There’s more." Morgana’s voice was grim. "Cassia’s final notes. Written three days before she lost control of her demon. She says The Root is learning. Adapting. Each time it emerges it’s stronger, harder to contain. This time—" She pulled up the last page. "This time it might be unstoppable."

Unstoppable. Great. Very reassuring.

"So we accept the Fae alliance." I heard my voice go flat. "Because facing unstoppable ancient evil alone is suicide." fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

"Or the Fae are lying." Thorne’s rough voice cut through the tension. "Using fear to trap you. Get you to swear fealty and then—" He didn’t finish.

And then own me forever for nothing. Yeah. That was a possibility.

"We need proof." Kael’s Alpha command filled the room. "Real proof that The Root is actually coming. That this isn’t just Fae manipulation."

Real proof. Right. Because ancient texts and historical records weren’t enough apparently.

Except that’s when the temperature dropped. Not gradually. All at once. The kind of cold that had nothing to do with weather and everything to do with something wrong touching reality.

And then I felt it. Through the hybrid magic. Through the space between contradictions. Something vast and hungry pressing against the barriers between realities.

The Root. I could sense it. Could feel its attention turning toward us like a predator noticing prey.

"It’s real." The words came out strangled. "I can feel it. It’s—" I couldn’t finish because the weight of its awareness was crushing.

All four alphas moved at once, surrounding me, and through the bonds their combined strength helped push back the pressure.

But I could still feel it. Still sense The Root out there. Awake. Aware. Coming.

And we had thirty days to decide if selling my soul to the Fae was worth surviving.

Assuming thirty days was even enough time.