Chapter 100: First of her kind

Alyssa is a hybrid.

Dr. Dylan’s words echoed repeatedly in Dorian’s mind like warning bells. He went completely quiet for a long time, turning the impossible revelation over and over in his head. This changed everything. It complicated every single threat looming over Wintercrest.

​"The residue you found in her blood," he spoke finally, his golden gaze cutting down at the physician. "Do you have any idea what it might be?"

Dr. Dylan shook his head grimly. "None yet, Alpha. It is ancient and unique, unlike anything I have encountered in all my years as a physician. But it is powerful, frighteningly so. Her blood completely purged the aconite and sealed her internal wounds. But unfortunately, it couldn’t save the fetus."

Dorian’s jaw set hard, his eyes darkening. Every passing second brought another phantom stab of grief for the baby they had lost.

"Does anyone else know about this? The nurses? Your lab assistants?"

"No one," Dylan shook his head. "I ran the test and analyzed the blood samples personally."

"Good. Keep it strictly between us. I don’t want a single breath of this leaking to anyone, not even Anthony or my beta. If anyone asks questions, you check in with me first."

Dylan nodded rapidly, bowing his head. "Understood, Alpha."

"How much longer before Alyssa can be discharged?"

Dylan scanned through the chart in his hands before answering. "Two days, at most. With her accelerated healing capabilities, all she needs now is complete rest for the muscle aches to subside. Once I check her vitals again this evening, if she continues to stabilize, we can move her out of the ICU and into a private ward."

"Take her to the VIP wing," Dorian commanded. "I don’t want her disturbed by anyone."

"Yes, Alpha."

​"A dozen guards will arrive at the hospital within the hour," Dorian continued, his voice sharp and authoritative. "They will secure the perimeter and guard the VIP wing. I am informing you now so their presence doesn’t disrupt the medical staff."

"I understand, Alpha."

Dorian reached out, placing a firm hand on the doctor’s shoulder. "Thank you, Dylan. For everything."

"I am your humble servant, Alpha," Dylan bowed deeply. "It is my duty to help you and the Luna."

Dorian gave a single, curt nod. As Dylan turned and walked away, the footsteps of Anthony and Jake echoed against the tile as they approached from the main lobby.

"How is she, Dorian?" Anthony asked, his sharp eyes searching Dorian’s exhausted face.

"She’s much better," Dorian replied, keeping his voice strictly level. "Dylan said she’s responding well to the treatments."

​"That is a massive relief," Jake breathed out, letting his shoulders drop. "Henna has been beside herself with worry, and Pandora was on the verge of crashing out."

"Where are they now?"

"Nina brewed a strong sedative tea to help ease their anxiety," Jake offered a small, apologetic shrug. "It might have also knocked them out cold for the next few hours."

The faintest shadow of a smile touched Dorian’s lips. "Nina did good. I don’t want them suffering through this. In two days, Alyssa will be discharged."

Anthony stood silently, watching Dorian with an unreadable, razor-sharp gaze. His eyes narrowed in quiet suspicion.

"Something is bothering you, isn’t it? You have that locked-down look you only get when you’re hiding something."

Dorian scoffed softly, rolling his eyes in irritation. "Sometimes, you scare me. How the hell do you always figure things out?"

Anthony grinned, lifting his shoulders in a lazy shrug. "It’s a gift. One that comes with growing beside you for over a century."

Dorian shook his head. Beside them, Jake looked completely puzzled.

"So... is it true?" he asked cautiously. "Are you hiding something, Alpha?"

"I’m not hiding anything," Dorian snapped, his voice tight. "It’s just something I’ve been too busy to address over the last four days."

"What is it?" Anthony asked, stepping closer, his playful demeanor vanishing.

Dorian exhaled, his fist clenching at his side. "Pilate is still alive. He escaped."

Anthony and Jake recoiled, pure shock flashing across their faces.

"How?" Anthony exclaimed. He caught himself and swiftly lowered his voice. "How, Dorian?"

"I almost killed him," Dorian muttered grimly, his gaze shifting toward the window at the end of the hall. "I went feral during the fight. I summoned the Void."

Anthony and Jake exchanged a look of pure dread. The Void was the deadly fusion of Dorian’s beast and demon blood. In normal battles, Dorian only called upon his Demon-Lycan form. He never unleashed the Void unless he was pushed past the limit of his sanity.

The last time he had truly released the Void was during the bloody war against the Onyx and the soulless rogues. And four nights ago, when he had almost murdered Samantha before Anthony intervened.

"By the time I regained control of my senses, Pilate was on the brink of death," Dorian continued, his jaw tightening as the memory burned through his mind. "But right before I could end it, he shifted his face into Elvira’s."

Dorian closed his eyes, turning his head away as the cold memory washed over him. "When I saw her face looking up at me, I hesitated. I saw her exactly as she was the day she died, and the trauma I had buried clawed its way back up. In that split second of distraction, Pilate slipped away into the dark."

Anthony opened his mouth to ask the obvious question–why Dorian hadn’t chased after the shapeshifter. But the words died in his throat. He understood the soul-crushing weight of that memory on Dorian. He couldn’t judge him for freezing at the ghost of his past.

"Okay," he said softly, nodding in grim acceptance. "At least we know the bastard is out there. Now we can fortify the borders and be prepared, because he will come back. You know how revenge-driven assassins are."

"I know," Dorian muttered. "I’ve instructed Nina to find something that can repel shapeshifters. It’s the only way we secure the North until I hunt him down myself."

"Like vervain against vampires," Jake muttered, thinking through the tactical logic.

"Or rowan wood and salt against witches," Anthony added.

"Exactly," Jake agreed, nodding firmly. "Nina will find something. She’s an ancient healer."

"She better," Dorian growled softly. "Because this time, I will burn the world before I let anyone lay a finger on Alyssa again."

As Anthony and Jake stepped aside to begin sketching out perimeter shifts and defensive protocols, Dorian watched them in silence, the crushing weight of his secret pressing down on his chest.

He wished he could lay it all out for them, tell them that Alyssa was a hybrid.

But he held back. Not out of a lack of trust, but because the truth would ignite an uncontrollable firestorm across the North and the entire Wintercrest.

Hybrids weren’t supposed to exist. The last of their kind were killed in the last war with the Onyx.

Dorian was the closest thing to what a hybrid was because of his demon blood splicing into a selected few of the male Lycans in the Hellborne lineage.

But for Alyssa, it was different. She was the first of her kind, a pure-blooded Hybrid. And in a realm built on power, dominance, and bloodlines, that made her the most dangerous target on the continent.