Chapter 8: The hybrid

Xander’s pov

"So the hybrid really existed?" Warren asks.

My Beta leans forward in the back seat beside me, his gaze probing for answers. We have just left the old man's heavily fortified lab—whatever that was— after trying to reason with him to stop his illicit genetic experiments, a plea he brushed off with arrogance.

Typical.

I told the council he won’t listen. This was a complete waste of my time and I’m done giving the man chances or calling him family when he had never been one.

The man cares for nobody but his own twisted ambitions…..the exact same unholy experiments that caused the death of his son and my parents and got him exiled years ago. Yet here he is, diving right back without a shred of remorse.

"That's what I was told," I replied.

I lean back against the leather seat, turning my face toward the tinted window to stare out at the passing trees.

"It just doesn't make any sense," Warren pushes and I see Gunnar, who is sitting beside the driver up front, listening intently. "A hybrid that powerful was born, and the Council just kept it under wraps, sent a teenage boy to kill it, and you actually did? Just like that? You do know about the rumor that the oracle prophesied that a hybrid like that could bring the entire supernatural world together."

"Or bring it to absolute ruins," I growl.

I don’t want to talk about this, nor do I wish to revisit the memories of that godforsaken day. I was fifteen years old, raised under the merciless pressure of parents who constantly pitted me and my twin sister against each other in a sadistic competition for the alpha bloodline, until they finally decided to send us on our first real trial before we got our wolf on our sixteenth birthday.

My twin sister, Lana returned from hers, successful, of course, carrying her trophy with pride, while I... I returned successful-ish.

"Xander."

I open my eyes to see my Beta and Gamma watching me.

"You really killed the baby, man? A child?" Warren asks.

"I did what I was ordered to do, Warren.”

"You were just fifteen," he mutters, shaking his head as he turns his gaze out his own window.

I look away, refusing to show the internal storm brewing as I recall the twisted pride radiating from my parents' faces when I walked back into the pack house with the target's blood staining my weapon. That was the singular act that made my parents truly see me as a ruthless heir, a ruthless monster capable of leading, and I have carried that dark legacy ever since.

The gates of my private estate opens as the sedan rolls onto the winding stone driveway, revealing acres of manicured land, sweeping security perimeters, and the towering white stone of my multi-million-dollar mansion.

Out here, we try to look normal to humans, so I live as a big time business tycoon, our businesses stretching from city to city.

As the car pulls up to the courtyard, I step out, my presence instantly radiating an aura of dominance that makes every passing warrior drop their head. I walk past the outdoor training grounds where my fighters are sparring, pausing just long enough to bark out a correction on a guard's defensive stance before continuing toward the main entrance. The doors are thrown open and I stride through the foyer, accepting the polite greetings from the household workers and omegas who bow their heads.

"Alpha Xander.”

A familiar voice calls out from the staircase and I snap my head in that direction. I stop to watch Helena strut down the stairs with provocative grace, looking ridiculously hot in a skin-tight, black leather outfit that leaves very little to the imagination. She glides toward me, her eyes flashing as she closes the distance between us.

Her hands sweep around my neck, pulling my face down to lock her lips onto mine in a wet, demanding kiss. I slide my hands down to grip her waist, lifting her off her feet so she can wrap her legs around my hips as our lips devour each other.

I have been seeing Helena for a few months now, but lately she has gotten the completely wrong idea, repeatedly initiating aggressive public displays of affection whenever pack members are around.

I know what she is doing.

She is trying to mark her territory and I have also heard she calls herself Luna now. I plan to break things off with her, but not just yet. Right now, she is the only female in the territory capable of keeping up with my wolf's insatiable, sexual demands.

"I missed you so much this week," she purrs against my lips when we finally pull apart. "You haven't called for me, so I decided to just come over and take what's mine."

"Alpha duties, Helena, you know how crazy things get," I murmur, my lips tracing a path down the line of her throat towards the voluptuous slope of her exposed breast. How she got it into the tight leather is beyond me. "Come back tonight. I still have a mountain of work to finish before sunset."

I set her back down onto her feet, pulling away but she leans into me with a pout.

"I could just stay right here and keep you company until—"

"Come back at night, Helena," I interrupt, my voice dropping into a non-negotiable command.

The pout left her mouth, a flash of annoyance crossing her features before she quickly masks it with a nod. "Of course, Alpha. As you wish."

I walk right past her. I hadn't lied about having pressing duties to attend to, but the undeniable truth is that I haven't craved her touch—or any woman's touch—since the night I sat in the dark and watched Noah pleasure himself on the surveillance feed. Even now, with her throwing her body at me—the same body I had enjoyed burying myself into severally— my body remains completely numb, my dick soft.

That has never happened before.

Even my wolf, Brutus, hadn’t risen at the offer of a female.

Something is wrong.

If there is one thing I’m famous for, it’s my relentless sexual appetite. I have to fix this anomaly, and I have to do it fast.

I enter my private office, stride past the desk, and press a hidden biometric sensor concealed beneath the bookshelf. The wall glides open with a hiss, revealing the room inside and I step in.

I grab the encrypted satellite phone from the desk, punch in a memorized string of digits, and raise the receiver to my ear as it rings.

"Alpha Xander," an amused voice comes through the speaker. "What an unexpected surprise. To what do I owe this honor? Is your insanely hot sister finally single, and you've decided to give her hand to me in marriage?"

"In hell, Derek. You'll get her in hell," I reply dryly, sinking into the chair behind the control panel. "I called for business. I need your specific expertise in locating someone off the books."

"Ohhhhh, a beauty?" Derek chuckles on the other end, his keyboard already clicking rapidly in the background. "Are we talking a wild midnight chase, or is this a classic Cinderella situation?"

"Derek," I growl. "This is important. The target should be around twenty to twenty-two years old by now. Son of Mr. and Mrs. Walker. Last intelligence I gathered placed them somewhere in the Chicago metropolitan area."

"Walker... got it," Derek says, his tone instantly shifting from playful to focused. "Chicago is a massive haystack, big man, but if the kid is still alive, he will leave a paper trail and I'll track him down to his exact doorstep."

"Good. And Derek…..Keep this entirely to yourself, or I will come over there and rip your head off your shoulders."

Laughter comes from the other end of the line. "You know I can’t tell if you’re joking or not, but I have grown quite attached to my head so yes, I will keep this off the books and to myself. I'll have a full dossier ready for you in a few days."

The call ends with a click, and I lean back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling as my mind races through every strategic outcome. My uncle has always been a liar. But one thing with liars is you never know when they’re telling the truth. And if his wild claim is true then I need to find the boy before he does.

And also to rectify the mistake I did before the council find out about it.

But as for my immediate problem…..I reach across the console and press a key, bringing up the live, camera feed of Noah’s office building and apartment.

Okay. Why is he home on a weekday?

The boy rarely gets out of routine.

My eyes fixate on the screen, watching as Noah sits curled on the edge of his couch……in tears….while his blonde neighbor holds and tries to console him.

My jaw tightens as my wolf stirs and a sudden, unexpected spike of protective fury flares up in my chest.

What the hell is it now?