A Hybrid's Destiny

Chapter 1

Tate Rawlins winked at the waitress as she passed by the table in the diner. It was the least he could do for the little extra attention she gave him earlier. He wasn’t a fan of the bathroom s*x, but she was hot and her body was begging for fun. In his twenty-four years, he was used to the bedroom-eyed, lip-licking attention shot at him. Being an Alpha werewolf’s son imbued with natural dominance, powerful muscular physique, and innate sexuality that practically had the ladies throwing panties at him wherever he went. But Tate was also the son of an elder vampire that only seemed to magnify his desirability, which for the most part guaranteed him a good time. It was asinine not to take advantage of his natural perks.

So, when the waitress prattled something naughty in Scottish as she passed by, he quickly muttered something back that made her flush five shades of red, but also prompted his companions who sat on the other side of the booth to shake their heads while they nursed the coffee cups in their hands.

Aron, his kinda brother-in-law, ‘kinda’ because there really wasn’t such a term in the werewolf world but that was the best way to describe him, swept the long strands of black hair out of his face while he rolled his eyes, “Now I know why it took you so long in the lavatory.” He shook his head. “This place only has one stall, and I had to piss, you know? Think of others before you lock yourself up in there.” Aron’s hair had grown quite a bit shaggier in the past month.

Although he wore his hair a little longer than his twin, he usually kept it shorter than what it was now, but there were more things on his mind other than scheduling a salon appointment. Things such as his mate, and Tate’s sister, Nevaeh, was still missing. Taken. It was the reason for the black hallows under his eyes and expression that barely held a smile. And the guy hardly ate either; that cup of coffee in his hand would probably even be all he had for breakfast even though he had ordered an accompanying cream-cheesed bagel. Him ordering actual food this morning rose an eyebrow, but as it sat there, growing more stale by the minute, that wasn't a surprise either. Aron’s lack of calories and sleep should have taken its toll on the guy's physique by now, but being a Lycan, it kept his body healthy-looking and fit. But his eyes. They didn’t hide a damn thing.

“I hope I didn’t hear you right.” Sébastien, Tate’s other in-law and Aron’s twin brother, made a face before his shoulders feathered. “That’s disgusting! And what you just said to her was even more disgusting” Sébastien was the other in-law meaning he was mated to Tate’s cousin, Levi, though the Lycan had their own word for it. Kamará .

Since Lycan were, in fact, the first supernatural wolves that the Moon Goddess created, perhaps werewolves should call their mates a kamará, too? But the racial and cultural differences had put a huge ass wedge between the Lycan and werewolf species, so that probably wouldn’t ever happen. Already, the Lycan thought they were the Goddess’ gift to all wolf-kind. s**t, he probably wouldn’t be associating with these two Lycan right now, Lycan princes even, if they weren’t mated to his sister and cousin.

“You’ll need to try it with Lev once we find him. You may like the excitement of s*x in places other than the bedroom,” Tate smirked. “And it’s not my fault that the Lycan language is basically an off-shoot of Scottish Gaelic. How am I supposed to flirt with that Scottish waitress if you two can translate my personal conversations?”

“You mean whoring, and not flirting, right?” Sébastien rolled his eyes. “We’re in Europe, Tate. Usually people here can speak like five languages. But you have a point. You probably can’t w***e in any language we wouldn’t know.” He straightened his shoulders, clearing his throat, "And Levi and I haven't just had s*x in the bedroom. He and I have had our fun in other places, too."

"Good to know," Tate sat back and laughed as he adjusted his long blonde hair up into top-knot at the crown of his head. He watched as Aron stared at him for a moment before looking back down at his coffee. He did that sometimes, would look at him for longer than necessary before ripping his eyes away.

Although Tate was all masculine, taut, and large like any Alpha werewolf would be, he and Neveah looked a lot alike, taking on a lot of qualities of their mother, except his sister had long chestnut-colored hair and olive-toned skin where his was a bit more like his father. Paler. Like his vampire father, that is. And his eyes, well, they weren’t at all natural. Ever. Not in his normal phase and not when he went all hybrid. It was either bright azure blue (again, like his vampire father) or claret. Even so, anyone could tell that he and Nevaeh were siblings, and Aron was no doubt seeing pieces of her in him. That twisted Tate’s stomach with a guilt he didn’t really need to bare, but still did, nonetheless.

Or maybe he should be feeling guilty. The blame of losing them bore heavily on his shoulders the moment the demon opened up a pit and swallowed her and Levi down into Hell. If he would have arrived at Shere Wood earlier, if he wouldn’t have been tied up in that damn vampire council meeting with their b***h-ass issues the day before and had made the trip to England a day earlier, none of this would have happened.

This was the thing that gutted his insides up every day and kept him awake at night.

Tate continued with Sébastien, “Hey, I didn’t initiate or propose any of it,” he lifted up his hands in protest, as he side-eyed the counter to make sure the waitress wasn’t listening. Even if it was a no-strings hook-up, he wasn’t a total dog. When he saw her at the other side of the restaurant, he took the green light. “She wanted a little piece of me, and I simply reciprocated. No whoring involved, brother, when there are two interested parties involved.”

“You can still say no.” Sébastien grimaced.

He was absolutely right, but Tate still smirked at his remark, trying to keep this conversation playful. “If my breakfast time offers other extra-curricular activities, it’s only logical to choose the most fulfilling diversion.”

“A hook-up is a Friday or Saturday night diversion, Tate. It’s not meant to be an every other day sorta thing. So, what Sébastien's saying is about right.” Aron shook his head, “You need to find your mate and settle this s**t down. I wasn’t even that bad before Neveah...” He was going to add more, but just saying her name choked the rest of his comment.

Tate jumped back to the topic of his whoring, if only to distract Aron, because his brother’s mood was plummeting fast. Honestly, if it buoyed Aron away from crashing, he’d take the name-calling, even if he didn’t think either of them were right. “Bro, I’m not going to have a mate, so I might as well get what I can.”

Sébastien shook his head. “That’s bullshit. Every wolf gets one, even if you have to wait a century to find one like us Lycans, there is always someone. It’s our Moon Goddess’ promise.”

“I’m not your average wolf. Not your average vampire either,” Tate winked. “After this cup of coffee and platter of pancakes and sausages, I’m going to go drink a pint of blood in the fridge back home. And that's not normal at all.” It wasn’t something he was sad about anymore, and hadn’t been bitter about it for years. It simply just is.

When he turned seventeen at his Lava Moon pack back in America and didn’t hook up with a mate, nor did he when he turned eighteen and then nineteen, it kinda sealed the deal with him that he wasn’t ever going to have a one. And he understood the Moon Goddess’ reasonings. For one, it was probably because he didn’t have time for one, honestly. Ever since he was born, the whole destiny, prophecy, s**t set him on a different path for any ordinary werewolf or vampire. Perhaps that path is what kept him single for a reason. And two, he was a werewolf and vampire AKA hybrid. Why would any mate want to hook up with what both those races considered an abomination?

But hell no would it be a celibate path for him. f**k, that!

So, he was a little different. Over the years, he learned to live with it and the Pack accepted him just like they accepted his mom. They were the odd balls, for sure. Drank blood and used blood magic because it was just who they were. Though, because of his difference, he always felt he needed to prove himself more. He wore the identity as the Alpha’s firstborn son on his sleeve, and it was always a priority to make his Alpha father proud. Even if he never could transform into a werewolf like the others could.

Being a hybrid, he didn’t share himself with a wolf-spirit, he didn’t have something talking to him in his head like every other werewolf did. So, he never had the opportunity to transform into a wolf. His transformation was a bit different when he raged, and perhaps more macabre. He was a wolf and a vampire; he was both, fused together, a monster whose body grew in size, skin shifted an ashen black, and eyes burned reddish yellow. He looked like something Hell spit up. But a damn fine-looking demon-faced freak, if he were to say so himself. Yet, he didn’t shift much in front of his pack.

He didn’t like how they looked at him when he did.

In some way, he was kinda like his Lycan brothers here, who wasn't separate from their beast. They were their beast.

Being a hybrid changed a few things for Tate, and he lived anything but a typical life of an Alpha’s firstborn. Along with his twisted conception of having two biological dads and one mom, destiny set him on a different path. For instance, as the eldest son of the Alpha King Blaez, the Lava Moon pack should have naturally fallen to him when his dad stepped down a few years ago. Yet, Tate had no choice other than abdicate the leadership role to his younger brother, Mateo, who shared the yoke with his twin, Zeke. Tate always knew he would abdicate, but it was still hard when he watched Mateo and Zeke take over Lava Moon Pack as well as leadership of the Knights of Arkadía, the Moon Goddess’ protectors of mankind. But it had to be done.

Tate knew he had other things to do. Namely, the thing that his parents had been preparing him for since he was young, being fate-locked into fulfilling a prophecy of making sure the world didn't get f****d up by an asshole demon lord. So, he always knew he wouldn’t have the luxury of just kicking back and being the leader of a pack. His parents even got some of his siblings involved to help take the burden off of him to try and figure this out by himself. It was a family affair of sorts. While Mateo and Zeke were busy running Lava Moon as head Alphas, his parents, Nevaeh and some of his cousins were training for something bigger.

Instead, he had to save the world.

WTF, right?

So, Tate came to live in Scotland with his vampire father, Elder Raith Karayan, when he turned nineteen. It was his father’s home country way back when he was a human Earl, and ever since he became an Elder, vampire, he kinda made it his home base. His father's home used to be somewhere in Canada when he was the vampire king, with a palace and courtiers and s**t. But after rising in the vampire ranks, he took on a whole other world of responsibilities. Yet, his father was hella smart, had connections, and was helping him with getting information on the Dèanadair- Bringer of Darkness prick and all the end of day intel that would help him not let the end of day happen.

Bottom line, he was meant to take on something bigger and had to prepare for it. Being the Qui dat Pacem- Bringer of Peace wasn’t an easy crown to wear. Honestly, it was f*****g heavy. There were a lot of people counting on him, and it scared the hell outta him, the not knowing what was going to happen. It scared the hell outta him about what actually did happen with Nevaeh and Levi, and not knowing what the f**k they were going to do about it. And the asshole Master demon, who kidnapped his sister and cousin, also had the nal jealot weapon which meant he could activate it.

Already, he was screwing up this whole savior for the world gig.

The conversation seemed to fizzle after the topic of mates was brought up, even with Tate trying to make fun of his own sorry-ass, mate-less future. But he didn’t blame the guys for slumping over their drinks and pushing their toasted bagels aside. The situation sucked big time. The twins hardly smiled and joked, ever, since meeting them. Today was kinda an anomaly, so Tate kinda went with it because it was the first time either of them even showed signs of life.

Nevaeh had often told him these two were nearly always in three-piece Windsor or Armani suits. But in the month they’ve been together, trying to Scooby-Doo every clue, lead, or riddle that they possibly could to find out where they needed to start, they've been sporting five-o'clock shadows, tee-shirts and jeans, slumming through Scotland with him. No one would ever know these two were billionaires, let alone princes.

Tate moved the conversation to something that would pique their interest. “Just because they went down that pit, doesn’t mean the Dèanadair has them.”

Aron nodded after taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s something I’ve been hanging on to. It’s been a month. If the demon had Nevaeh… if he took the cor diaboli out of her hand and used the demon jewel to activate the weapon, we would have known it by now.” He sighed, rubbing his face. Tate knew his tell signs already, knew the Lycan was trying to keep it together. When his voice drew low and said, “At least I think so," Tate knew Aron was going to shut-down soon.

Sébastien said, “Levi, as the Âlde Tire could have gotten them away. They could be hiding somewhere down there.”

“Yeah, it’s possible.” Aron laid his elbows on the table, dipped his head into his hands, then rubbed his face a few times. “Or, " his voice hoarse, "he’s taken the stone, killed her, and is waiting for something before he begins to f**k everything else up.”

Tate looked away from the twins then, feeling the reality of his words. Being in the Underworld realm, being taken by the Dèanadair point-blank, Nevaeh and Levi didn’t have much of a chance to have gotten away from the demon. Aron's was the most logical conclusion. Though, neither of them wanted to put it as their number one scenario. They couldn't. It would mean they were really gone, gone. And that just couldn't be the truth right now.

“Don’t give up hope.” He tried, even with the odds hammering down on them. “With both my father’s working on this, we’ll figure it out. We’ve already managed to gather more information on the Orașul Sângelui Underworld than we’ve ever had. Once we get in, we’ll know a whole lotta s**t more of what we’ll be up against.” Faeries, vampires, minor demons, all those creatures that crept up onto the surface world and lived amongst the humans, yeah, they were weak-sauce compared to what lived down under the earth.

Sébastien frowned, “What they have already been up against,” his Adam’s apple bobbed and lips pursed. “And all we’ve learned about that realm only frightens the s**t outta me even more.”

Aron whispered, his face covered as he looked down at his cup. “But I don’t feel her. I should be able to feel her with the mate-bond.” Tate knew by the way his voice tightened that the Lycan prince was near crying. Honestly, he preferred their dark brooding to the tears. Because when they were grieving, even when they tried to hide it and thought no one else could hear them, it broke down the walls he tried to build around himself to keep himself sane in all this.

And since Aron and Sébastien had been bunking up with him and his father at the Karayan ancestral castle in Ayrshire, he was around them enough to see their despondent slouches and red eyes to see what they were trying to hide. And even though what happened to Nevaeh and Levi already had him reeling, the twin’s melancholy twisted the s**t outta his own heart.

Seeing all this, Tate was pretty much more resolute that having a mate wasn’t as amazing as his werewolf friends declared it to be, because having something that overwhelmingly wonderful, and then losing it, looked like it was ripping their souls out. Yeah, no thanks.

“Maybe the Underground realm acts as a barrier?” Sébastien looked out the window of the diner, he too was trying to avoid looking at Aron, knowing what was coming. “Maybe when we find a way in, we’ll feel them again.”

“A way in,” Aron hmph’ed. “Right.” His bitterness was warranted. Ever since Neveah and Levi disappeared, the Dèanadair locked all the gateways to that realm. Not even Merch could get back in. Any demon who happened to still be on the surface was trapped here. And any who wanted to go into the Underworld realm was denied. With the nal jealot, the demon could do that, as well as open them all back up.

Tate was pretty sure the dickhead was trying to keep them out. And that’s what they were trying to figure out for the past month… how to pick-lock their way into the Underworld.

When it started beeping, Tate looked at his phone, knowing it was a text coming through. It was from his father, with news they’ve been waiting on for a few days now. “Hey, my dad got intel on some antediluvian scripts in a church archive in Glasgow. He says the witches he hustled for the info swore that there were scrolls in there that talked about the Underworld and all the prophecy shit.” His smile was large when he looked up at Aron. “Want to get our fingers dusty?”

Tate didn’t need to ask twice. The twins were already out of their seats before he even finished the sentence.