Hybrid Alpha’s Prettiest Obsession

halflings alike

I gritted my teeth, refusing to let their words get to me. But it was hard. The weight of their judgement pressed down on me, suffocating. I could feel my control slipping, the anger rising to the surface.

“Is that all?” I asked, my voice sharp. I didn’t have the patience for this.

Stacy raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the tension. “For now,” she said with a smirk. “But we’ll see how long that lasts. You’re in deep, Mina. And it doesn’t look like you’re getting out anytime soon.”

Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit, and I turned on my heel, walking out of the room without another word. But her voice echoed in my mind long after I’d left, reminding me of the truth I couldn’t escape. I was in deep, and as much as I hated it, there was no easy way out.

I clenched my fists, anger simmering beneath the surface. I hated Malakai for trapping me like this. Hated the way he controlled my life, my body, and my future. Their words were nothing but dark triggers, reminding me of the precarious position I was in. It was bitter, but the truth.

The pot was designed that way to frustrate you. You could never get out of a written document. The only way to freedom is by death. How could I let myself fall into Malakai's dead heart? The man who killed all halflings and humans ruthlessly? He purposely had me bound by that contract. I only woke up to find the contract already signed and thumbprinted with my blood.

I mean… I glanced down at my fingers for wounds or evidence of the whole thing at least. There was no f*****g wound or blood! And Stacy's biting remarks only reinforced that fact. I hated how much her words stung, hated that she could see through my weak self, straight to the fear lurking just beneath my skin.

If I didn't want Malakai, I could have used the dagger on myself or, at least, broken my ankle… Let the bones stick out and call it a day.

Maybe Tito wouldn't hate me this much. There was a part of me that shut out his last statement. I shook my head, not wanting to remember at all. The corridor outside the dressing room felt colder, and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to push through the ridiculous mix of shame and disgust. But as soon as I thought I’d found a moment of peace, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed behind me.

"Mina!" A familiar voice called out, and I groaned inwardly. It was Stacy again, but this time her voice lacked the usual mocking tone.

I slowed down, waiting for her to catch up, even though I didn’t want to. I didn’t have the energy for another round of teasing, not after the emotional beating I’d just endured. If this was about the underwear, I was prepared to walk down to the pit naked.

Enough with the teasing.

But when Stacy reached me, she didn’t immediately mock me. Instead, she fell into step beside me, silent for a few moments. I waited patiently, which was unlike me.

"Don't mind them, you know," she said, shrugging casually. "They're just having fun because you're a halfling. That's all."

I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, unsure if this was some new game she was playing. This was the Stacy that I knew before she got on that dancing pole. She was infamous now. I heard every wolf wanted a piece of her. A wolf just wanted me. Her words weren't cruel, but they weren’t comforting either. There was something indifferent about the way she said it, like it was just a fact of life that I had to accept.

She must have accepted that fact too. Who wouldn't accept that fact after going through what she had gone through... what I had gone through? I sighed, looking ahead, feeling empty within. I felt not only empty but disgusted with myself. It wasn’t fair. Being a halfling—half-human, half-wolf—had always made me the subject of ridicule, but this was different. Now I wasn’t just different; I was a tool... in whose f*****g game, I don't know. Probably in some grand scheme because what were we all doing in this place? To break us?

And yet, no matter how much they taunted me, Stacy’s words of acceptance offered no single comfort.

"That's all, huh?" I finally muttered under my breath. The bitterness creeped into my voice like it was always meant to be there. "Just a halfling. Nothing more."

Stacy didn’t respond right away. She just shrugged again, her nonchalance grating on me like nails on a chalkboard. It wasn’t her problem, after all. None of them had to deal with the things I did. They weren’t bound by a contract, forced to play nice with wolves who saw them as nothing more than prey. No, they were free to laugh, to tease, to poke fun at the half-breed in their midst.

I had a feeling none of the wolves they served had them signing anything in blood. I squeezed the paper in my hands. I should hand this to Pompeo soon.

“Did you sign a contract?” I asked to be sure.

“No. I was tossed about without problems. They all loved me. I think I can get a wolf to take me home. You should accept it, Mina, and stop acting dumb. Please.” Stacy said calmly. But there was something else in her eyes—terror and desperation.

Not all that glitters are gold, huh?

I averted my gaze. “Cherry?”

“Gone.” Was her only reply. “I only hope she got proper treatment first.” She walked into another room. “Wait here. I have to return this dress. Remember, Pompeo is waiting for us. Don't go anywhere.” She warned about entering the room.

Oh, I was glad to wait outside. But that was a mistake. As if on cue, a group of dancers who had overheard us burst into laughter, their mocking eyes trained on me.

"Aren't you the one sent to the VIP room?”

I shrugged, facing the wall.

“Why?”

I didn't reply one bit.

“Well, look at her, trying to act all high and mighty after being in that VIP room." The i***t who had been asking me those ridiculous questions finally sneered. Now that was their true color. What were they thinking? That I was going to tell them the secret of my so-called breakthrough?

"Bet she loved every second of it," another added, nudging her friend.

I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of mocking me. Just then, Stacy came out looking like I was… in drappy, crappy clothes. With the way she stared at me, I knew she heard them. The heat of shame rushed up my neck, burning my cheeks, but I forced myself to keep walking, head down, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. Stacy, for her part, didn’t say a word in my defense. She didn’t join in, either, but her silence was enough. A mere shrug and the casual dismissal of their words as "just fun" told me all I needed to know. I was on my own in this.

The laughter followed me as I walked, their jabs growing louder, more pointed. They had no limits.

"Didn’t even get a scratch? Must be nice, Halfling, Mina!"

"Guess they only bite real women, huh?"

It took everything in me not to snap back. No wonder Malakai wanted them dead. I whispered darkly and then froze. Where did that even come from? All I wanted to tell them was how wrong they were, to scream that this wasn’t what I wanted, that Malakai had forced me into this. But what would that accomplish? It would only give them more fuel, more reasons to mock me.

Suddenly, the sound of boots clattering against the stone floor snapped everyone out of their illusion. This wasn't a nice place for either of us. If I was their emotional while-away time, that was over now. A pair of guards passed by, making sure that their presence was a reminder of who held the real power here. Not those bullies…

It was Pompeo. It was almost comical when the dancers quickly fell silent and their laughter died in their throats.

That was when I smiled. Once the guards had passed, the banter picked up again, though quieter this time, as if they didn’t want to draw attention. My smile vanished.

"Pathetic," I muttered once again under my breath, more to myself than anyone else.

"What was that, Mina?" One of the girls, a particularly sharp-tongued dancer named Nea, asked. "Got something to say?"

I said that out loud, didn't I? I shook my head, feeling utterly defeated. "No. Nothing."

"That's what I thought," she replied, and it faded into another round of snickers from the others.

The rest of the day passed in much the same way. I became the butt of every joke, the target of every sneer, and every time I tried to brush it off, their words sank deeper into my skin. I only became famous after the stunt I pulled during inspection and coming out of the VIP section unscathed and treated well. By the time the evening rolled around, I was exhausted—emotionally and physically drained from keeping my head above the surface.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, the sound of shouting reached my ears. The doors to the pit swung open violently, and several heavily armed guards stormed in once again. There would never be peace in this area. The room fell into instant commotion as each of them grabbed a handful of people, yanking them to their feet.

My heart leaped to my mouth.

I may be next.

"You’ve got the wrong person!" A man shouted with panic. "I haven’t done anything wrong!"

"Please, I swear, it’s not me! I didn’t—" Another one was about to scream, but the guards weren’t listening. A guard punched his mouth mercilessly. Blood gushed out, silencing him and the others. They were all manhandled and dragged away like dolls.

I stood frozen, watching the scene unfold with my heart threatening to pound out of my chest. Stacy, beside me, tsked and shook her head, looking clearly unbothered by the commotion. But I saw her try to hide her trembling hands.

"What’s going on?" I whispered after finding my voice.

She shrugged. "No idea."