Hybrid

EIGHT

⫷ JAMES ⫸

Greta and Daniel leave upon hearing that my father was on the way. Apparently, they know each other. They used to be very close; in fact, my father helped them out four years ago, with the incident when Aria wandered into that forest. Daniel mentioned something about not wanting to be around too many werewolves they knew in the past, so, they left.

Now, I stand in front of the pack house, arms folded across my chest and a permanent frown on my face. Caleb, usually the realistic one, wears the same expression. In fact, I sense tension coming off of him in waves.

Beta Liliana steps out, clad in leather pants that she probably skinned herself. She's somewhere in her mid thirties, but looks about ten years younger with thick streaks of black on her eyelids and lashes that could probably start a hurricane. She's naturally tan, maybe with a latina heritage, and has legs for days.

She's also a scary son of a bitch. She saunters up to us with a cat-like grin, chestnut blond hair naturally flowing behind her from the strangely good timed wind. "Boys," she greets, purple eyes shifting between us. I heard she also has some fairy in her lineage, hence the weird eye colour. "What a pleasure, it is."

My father isn't the type of make a woman a Beta without a really good reason. He's a bit of a misogynist. Though, I have a sneaking suspicion that he's sleeping with Liliana, and the only way to keep it under wraps is to appoint her his second in command.

"Likewise," I say in a flat tone.

A smaller guy, probably in his teens, opens the backdoor of the limosene. Typical father, getting the young and impressionable pups to wait on him. The strongest Alpha in the country slides out of the vehicle. Some fear him. Some admire him. Me? I want nothing to do with him.

Alpha Gerard Blackwood of the Foniás pack comes from a long line of Blackwoods. He wasn't too please when his oldest son left the pack to start his own.

I look like him; a fact that often makes me want to punch mirrors. His chestnut brown hair is shorter, more groomed, than mine. Heart shaped face. Dimples, for those rare times he smiles. The only difference are his eyes; his are bigger, and have a tendency to squeeze the fear out of people with just one look. Dark blue instead of my green.

His big, for having werewolf genes, but not the biggest. It isn't his human form that gives push to fear; it's his wolf. A wolf who can battle the pain by silver and break through any constraints. A wolf who is rumoured to have ripped off the head of one of the strongest rogues of his time.

Thin lips stretch into a smile that never reaches his eyes. A smooth, black suit covers him, and gel keeps his hair pulled back. I really, really want to put a wrinkle in his shirt.

"Sorry about the tardiness," he patronizes. "We got lost a few times. Not hard to believe, considering how small this pack is."

"We're still growing," I defend through clenched teeth.

He chuckles. "Humph. What is this, that I hear? You let a rogue onto your territory and hurt your mate. True to nature, fools never disappoint."

My hands ball into fists at my side. To hell with this guy. Can I punch him in the throat? "Mistakes do happen. You'd know about them, wouldn't you, father?" Caleb's hand on my shoulder was a warning.

Instead of blowing up in rage, my father cocks an eyebrow. Anger is something he saves for when we're alone. "Yes, well, of different proportions. Bring me to your office. We have much to discuss."

The lingering pack members scatter off, only a select few brave enough to stare down my father. Leading my father and Liliana to my office is a small victory; if there's one thing I know about the old man, it's that he hates following.