Prologue
Author’s Note - Read This First!
Hey wild ones, it’s me.....Rhiannan!!
This is Book Two of The Aegis War Saga.
If you haven’t read Book One: Hunted Hybrid yet, STOP right here and go grab it first.... or you’ll be lost faster than a drunk pixie in a maze.
Seriously.
There’s a war, a prophecy, five dangerously sexy mates, a goddess level glow-up, and enough betrayal to fuel a soap opera. You’ll want every bit of that chaos before diving into this one.
If you have read Hunted Hybrid, welcome back, my fierce little heathens!!
You know how it ended.
The chains. The fire. The blood.
Now it’s time to rise.
- Rhiannan
Elowen Skye Thorne POV
My name is Elowen Skye Thorne.
Half wolf. Half fae. Bad ass magical bitch extraordinaire.
But I didn’t always know that.
I grew up hidden in the Stormclaw Pack, tucked safely under the Alpha King’s protection. My father, Caelan, was his Beta, fierce, loyal, and my entire world. He was killed when I was ten, slaughtered by the Hollow Creed, human hunters who believe tearing apart magical bloodlines makes them holy.
After that, I was raised by a gamma couple. They weren’t cruel, but they weren’t my father. They made sure I survived, nothing more.
For years, I thought I was just another wolf pup without a mother. Strong, stubborn, and faster than the others, sure, but nothing special.
That illusion shattered the day before my eighteenth birthday.
My foster father handed me a wooden box he’d kept hidden for years. Inside were two letters. The first was from the man who raised me. The second… from my mother.... the mother I’d never known.
Her truth cut me open. She was fae, a royal warrior of the Starborn Court. Her love for my father was forbidden, and their child was an abomination in the eyes of both worlds. A spell had been cast on me at birth, burying my fae half so deep I could never find it on my own.
But my mother had left me a gift. An address. A witch in Scotland powerful enough to break the spell.
When that spell cracked, everything changed.
My fae blood surged awake. My wolf howled with ancient fury. The goddesses themselves began whispering my name.
I wasn’t just a wolf. I wasn’t just a hybrid. I was the Chosen of the Moon, the Earth, and the Stars.
And I was hunted.
The Aegis Protocol, Lucien Virell’s alliance of vampire nobles, corrupt witches, and power drunk humans, had been bleeding the world dry for decades. And now they wanted me.
But I didn’t run.
In four brutal months of war and awakening, I gathered my mates.
Daxon, the alpha wolf who drives me insane and completes me anyway.
Ashrian, the vampire prince with shadows in his smile.
Bram, the bear heir who shields me like his own heartbeat.
Lachlan, the Scottish mage who swears like a sailor and commands the storm.
And Vaelrix, the dragon king whose fire burns as hot as mine.
Together, we did the impossible, uniting species that had hated each other for centuries. We forged armies out of ashes. Broke chains. Tore down cages.
But not everyone stood with us.
Soria and Vaela Stormclaw, Daxon’s sisters, betrayed us. They went to Lucien, to the Aegis Protocol. They chose greed and power over blood and loyalty. And that betrayal led us straight into hell.
The Crucible.
That’s where it all broke.
We stormed the fortress with our armies, our blades high and the magic blazing. I shifted into dragon form, fire roaring from my throat, and my wings spread wide. For a heartbeat, victory seemed ours.
Then the ground split.
Raelith, the Blood Goddess herself, rose, her chains made of shadow and blood. Each link was etched with runes that pulsed with power and pain. They wrapped around my wings, my throat, my soul. They burned through scale and skin, blistering me from the inside out.
My fire died. My body collapsed.
And my mates... my heart, my bond, my everything.....were forced to retreat.
I’ll never forget the look in Daxon’s eyes when I screamed for him to go. The fury in Bram’s snarl. The storm raging in Lachlan’s magic. The smoke curling from Vaelrix’s teeth. The tremor in Ashrian’s shadows.
They wanted to die fighting for me. And I made them live. Because if they’d stayed, they would’ve been dragged into the abyss with me.
So they left me.
Naked, broken, and bound in Raelith’s cursed blood chains.
The torture began immediately.
Days blurred into agony, blood runes were carved into my skin, and dark magic siphoned through my veins until my body convulsed and cracked. I should’ve died. I would have, if not for the goddesses.
They whispered in the darkness, wove their light through my screams, and kept me alive when everything else wanted me gone.
Then came the ritual.
Lucien’s voice, low and commanding.
Vaela’s body, twisted, and glowing red with corruption.
They stood over me as the cultists bled themselves out, their lifeblood feeding the runes drawn across my chest. My body was meant to become Raelith’s vessel. My soul, was to be her throne.
But Soria, sweet, defiant Soria, had been texting her mother the entire time.
If not for her, I’d be gone. We all would be.
Her messages lit the fuse. My bonded and our armies stormed the Crucible again, fire, steel, storm, and shadow ripping through the fortress as my chains shattered.
They pulled me from the altar and tore me from the jaws of the Blood Goddess herself.
We escaped.
But not all of us made it out whole.
Vaela couldn’t be saved. Her body and soul were too far gone, her veins already blackened by Raelith’s hunger. In the madness, in the fire, Soria did the only thing she could.
She killed her sister.
Now, we are safe. For the moment.
I am home.
But my soul is tainted. Raelith lingers, whispering, waiting, and poisoning my dreams.
At night, I see her. A girl with golden eyes, locked in a silver cage. She is faceless, but real. She begs for release. And I know she is not alone.
We have to save her. We have to save them all.
The war for peace is over.
The war for souls has just begun.
