Hunting the Hybrid Queen

Hunting the Hybrid Queen

Steph Starry · Ongoing · 106.7k Words

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Introduction

Maeve is nineteen. Wolfless. A virgin Rogue living in Blackbridge—the ruins left behind after the Crimson War between vampires and werewolves.

To survive the mating ceremony and compete against twenty candidates, Maeve ventures into District 3 seeking a female vampire to teach her the art of seducing men.

Instead, she stumbles into Nikolai's room—a Crimson vampire who bites her.

He teaches her with his own body.

"Did you catch it? My name.”
He licks her wet clit.
“I spelled it with my tongue."

He claims her virginity, makes her beg, makes her shatter beneath him. She falls hopelessly in love.

Then he rejects her. Heartbroken, Maeve attends the ceremony—only for Prince Bastian, a werewolf alpha, to discover she's his fated mate. His rough hand slides to her neck, finding his enemy's mark.

"Tell me this wasn't consensual,"he growls, his erection hard against her.

Vampire and wolf. Ancient enemies. Both want her. "If I take you, I won't stop."

"If you choose him, I will hunt him."

But Maeve is not weak.

Because when her blood awakens, choosing one man won’t save her—it will start a war, and only one of them will survive it.

Chapter 1

❀ Maeve ❀

My mother draped her finest shawl over my head and shoulders.

It was frayed at the ends, the once-vivid blues and greens faded to an unrecognizable brown.

“Stick with the girls, promise me. You’re more likely to get attacked if you get separated.”

“I will, Mother.”

Her eyes glimmered with a sheen of tears, but she did not let them fall.

“I can hear them leaving now. Go on.”

With a quick hug, I stepped out of our small thatched house and toward the quiet procession of girls walking past our lane. I fell in step beside them, ignoring their hostile glances.

If I died out here, blame my mother.

I loved her, dearly, but surely this was a tad unnecessary.

Beside me, Carmela pinched her cheeks for a deeper blush, then tightened her corset behind her, effectively popping out her ample bosom.

She gave me a haughty look when she saw I was watching.

“I would wish you luck, but we both know you’re not getting any,” she bit out, to the snickers of the other girls.

“Why is she even here?” One of the girls sneered.

“She really thinks she’ll find a mate, wolfless as she is.” More giggles.

Without responding, I turned my attention to the district ahead, brightened by colorful lanterns that looked like fireflies in the dark. It buzzed with music and activity even in the distance.

Tonight, at the behest of my mother, I was to find a vampire in District 3, Blackbridge’s vice quarter, and ask to be trained in the sensual arts.

All so I could increase my chances of finding, and keeping a mate at the upcoming werewolf mating ceremony in three days.

Illegal as it was, werewolves and humans alike frequented District 3, which held the hotspots of nightlife, brothels, gambling houses, underground fighting pits, and drug dens.

“Have you done this before?” I quietly asked Carmela. She was a wolf and wasn’t as sheltered as I was.

“Of course I have. Multiple times,” she said with a proud flick of her auburn hair.

“What’s it like?”

Her eyes lit up with mischief when she turned to look at me.

“Fun,” she rasped, and licked her bottom lip.

That was vague, but I didn’t want to prolong the conversation and give her a chance to say something hurtful about my inexperience.

I stumbled on a stone in the darkness. No one stopped to help me, and snickers tickled my skin as they all walked past.

“I bet she can’t even see in the dark,” one of them muttered.

I could. I was just nervous, but I said nothing as I drew myself up and continued, dusting my dress.

IronWolf soldiers did not always make arrests in Blackbridge, but when they did, you ended up in the dungeons.

Soliciting with and feeding vampires was taboo, a punishable crime. But it was more heavily enforced in IronWolf Pack than in the soggy corners of Blackbridge that the soldiers only routinely patrolled.

Only members of the pack lived in IronWolf. The rest of us, rogues and humans, lived in the ruins of Blackbridge, devastated after the Crimson War.

I wondered if it was a smart choice to seek out vampires when just yesterday, we held the Veil of Ashes Festival, celebrating the defeat and death of the vampire Queen Lyssa, the Crimson Wraith of Veilmoor.

My skin pebbled as I hurried to catch up with the girls. Unlike them, I didn’t have a wolf yet and couldn’t defend myself in the event of an attack. I was already 19 and way past the age of getting my wolf.

I’d lost hope, but Mother hadn’t.

So sure that I would discover my wolf if only I found my mate, she pushed me into the belly of the beast to gain experience.

With a sigh, I approached Carmela again.

“How do you defend yourself from getting killed by the vampire? How do you pay for the lessons? Is the blood feeding enough?”

With a scoff, she answered without looking at me. “We’re wolves, darling. We can defend ourselves plenty. And yes, feeding them your blood is enough.”

Another girl walked up to us. We were closer to District 3 now.

“I doubt you’ll be able to get one to tutor you though. You’re white as a sheet. You look bloodless, and vampires don’t like empty vessels.”

“I’m not empty,” I hissed, surprising myself and the girls.

Mother kept my anemia in check by feeding me blood puddings with every meal. It wasn’t easy, but she provided for us.

I’d asked about my father time and time again, but never got any answers. Aside from the fact that he was a wolf and alive somewhere.

I hated him for abandoning us.

My chest constricted with worry. What if I find my mate and he rejects me because I have no wolf? There was no difference between me and a human like my mother.

I bunched my dress up tightly and shook the thoughts off. I was our only chance of getting a better life.

If I could find my mate during the ceremony, we would be allowed to live in IronWolf Pack.

Protected and provided for.

I’d watched my mother suffer enough. It was time I played my part.

Immediately we stepped through the overhanging ribbons of decorative fabric that indicated the bustling parts of District 3, the girls scattered in all directions.

Panicked, I grabbed Carmela’s arm. “Where are you going?”

She snatched her hand away with a searing glare. “To our vampires, of course.”

She started to walk away.

“How do I get one?” I insisted, following behind her, jostling between bodies as she floated further and further away.

“Just ask any one! They’re all talented in the arts. Oh, and don’t get killed, there’s no such thing as justice here!” she threw over her shoulder, the din swallowing her whole.

Okay, breathe.

I turned left and right, squinting against the sudden glare of a torch that lit up beside me.

“Move, lass. You’ll catch your pretty hair afire.”

I jumped away from the gravelly voice. The man, muscled and shirtless, moved from one torch to the next, spreading the fires and lighting up the night even more.

He wasn’t pale. Not a vampire.

I turned away, winding between stalls of fruit and trinkets, roasting meat spits, and pairs of couples getting handsy in public.

I swallowed, hopelessly lost and too afraid to ask the several intimidating faces for help or directions.

I kept walking, staring at mouths and skin, trying to identify a vampire among the throes of bodies.

I crashed into one.

Looking up, a pale, smooth face stared down at me. Blood-red lips and straight dark hair framed her sharp but beautiful face.

“H-hello,” I offered.

She still held me by the arms to steady me, and I wondered if a female vampire could tutor me in the arts of seduction.

But when she opened her mouth to respond, I was disappointed. No fangs.

“You okay, sweetheart? Are you lost?”

She seemed nice enough.

“I need a vampire. I’ve been looking…”

“Oh.” She released me, judgment crossing her features. “Go past the amulet and charms section. Be careful.”

I didn’t get a chance to thank her before her lithe body disappeared into the crowd.

Her judgment came from the fact that most people, especially ones who didn’t have to resort to selling their blood to vampires in exchange for money or skill, did not respect those who did.

I followed her direction to the stalls, past them, and into a significantly darker and more secluded part of the street.

With a shaky breath, I advanced, music pounding through my skull.

Through the sheer red curtains in the doorways of some rooms and windows, shapes twisted in confusing positions, writhing into each other until I realized what it was.

Sex.

They were having sex.

Flushed, I turned my eyes away and headed toward a room that was dark from within.

My limbs shook with exhaustion, and I suddenly really needed to sit down.

I swept the curtain aside and stepped into the room, sure it was empty, if only to rest before I continued my search for a vampire tutor.

Only, it wasn’t empty.

And before me stood a man.

He was shirtless, with pale skin that glistened with sweat, his back ripped with muscle.

Broad shoulders tapered into a deliciously trim waist, from which hung long silky black pants, low on his hips.

Inky hair as black the pants, darker than the room’s shadows, curled at his nape.

“Um… sorry. I thought it was unoccupied. I’ll leave.”

I turned to the door, heart pounding, but my feet never crossed the doorway.

With a rush of wind, he was behind me. His large hand collared my throat, pinning me to the wall.

My heart beat a scattered rhythm as his face lowered to my neck.

“No! Please!”

I squirmed in his unyielding grasp. If he took from me, how would I have enough to give the vampire who would be my tutor?

His only response was a deep hiss that raised the hairs on my nape.

His fangs sank into the flesh of my neck, immediately turning my limbs to rubber.

Only venom could do that.

Only Crimson vampires had venom.

My legs kicked weakly, dark spots overtaking my vision.

My world went black.

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