Hybrid: an Adult Dystopian Paranormal Romance:: Othala Witch Collection (Sector 3)

by Apryl Baker

  He shrugged. “She’ll get over it.”

  Greggor looked thoughtful. “Have you spoken to Katyia yet about your uncle’s stronghold?”

  “Aye, but for a moment.” His need to kiss her interrupted that particular conversation. “We never really got around to discussing it in detail. Her hunger surfaced.”

  “Ah,” Greggor said. “Do you think she’ll want to help us?”

  “She said she would.” He still didn’t know if she’d said it in the heat of the moment or if she’d meant it.

  “There you go,” Greggor said. “She’s already agreed.”

  He shot his brother a glare hot enough to scorch a desert. “Aye, but how can I put my mate in that kind of danger?”

  “It’s not up to you.” Greggor faced him. “The choice lies squarely in her hands. If you try to control her, you’ll end up losing her. I think that girl has had more than enough of being told what to do, of having her choices taken away from her. You do that to her, and she’ll refuse you as her mate.”

  Damn. Greggor had a point. After all she’d suffered yesterday, she might not take too kindly to having anther choice taken from her. Given what he suspected about her stepmother, he wasn’t sure he was willing to do that to her. Even if she wasn’t his mate. Katyia had suffered enough for three lifetimes.

  He rubbed his temples. The headache intensified. A mate was not something he needed right now. Damn Fate for doing this to him right when he was in a position to attain all his goals.

  “This is a good thing, Roman.” Greggor laid a hand on his shoulder. “Finding a mate is something we all dream about. You’ve found yours. Don’t agonize over decisions that don’t need to be made today. Let the girl get used to being in her new life. Hell, getting used to your surly disposition is going to be enough for her deal with as it is.”

  “I am not surly.” He might be. He could admit that much to himself.

  “Uh huh.” Greggor rolled his eyes and slapped him on the back. “I’m sure she’ll still fall for you.”

  That gave Roman pause. Just because they were mates didn’t mean she had to accept him. Hell, she could refuse him. He was a hard man, cold to a certain degree. How to make her see the better side of himself he kept buried? He suspected she had already glimpsed parts of it without him knowing based on her words from earlier. He didn’t romance women, though. They served a purpose in his life, but he’d never tried to make one fall in love with him. How did he even begin?

  He shook his head again. Why did he care if she fell for him or not? It would be easier if she refused him. His life would remain as it was, a path leading to avenging his family and providing for his people.

  Perhaps he should continue to be cold? That would ensure she’d refuse him. Would that cut the physical bond between them if she didn’t want him? Or would he go through the rest of his life trying to break it, always in pain?

  So many questions with no real answers. He needed to work off some stress. A good fight would be just the trick.

  “Let’s go put together a makeshift training field and teach our young ones how to fight.”

  Katyia yawned and rubbed her eyes. Rolling, her face rubbed up against a scratchy surface. A stiff, coarse blanket appeared to be the culprit. She looked around and found herself not waking from some nightmare, but knee deep in a reality she hadn’t asked for.

  And one where everyone wanted her dead.

  She should have expected that, though, given how she herself felt about her tainted blood. Her first instinct had been to take her own life. How could she be offended at everyone else for thinking the same thing she had?

  Not that she had given up on that plan. She might still rid the world of the abomination she’d become, but first she’d see Oliva brought to her knees. Her mind rolled around to the problem of the wards protecting their sector. If Nicolette truly wasn’t powerful enough to pass the test set forth by the First Regent, then her people were left open to a massacre.

  Becoming Regent was all Nicolette had been groomed for. Katyia had never even considered becoming Regent. Since she was a small child, she’d been cautioned to hide her magic. After a while, it was impossible to do that, but she’d learned to dumb down her capabilities. Maybe her father knew what her mother was capable of doing if she found out how strong Katyia’s magic really was? Then why would he suggest she take Nicolette’s place? He had to have known the kind of rage that would spark inside Olivia.

  Questions plagued her. When she thought of Ivan, her vision blurred. Her father’s betrayal hurt more than anything else. Oliva had crushed her with the knowledge of how she truly felt, but her father’s actions nearly killed her. Her heart lay shattered inside the empty shell that she’d become. How could he have let them take her? Why hadn’t he come to see her, at the very least?

  Because he cared more for his legitimate children than he did for her. That answer echoed inside her heart. Katyia had never felt that from him, but his actions spoke louder than any words he’d ever said to her. Did he love her? Yes, in his own way, she knew he did. But he didn’t love her enough to save her from becoming a bloodthirsty monster. He gave her up to them without a fight.

  Admitting her father’s weakness caused Katyia more pain. She’d looked up to him as a child, but she couldn’t ignore what he’d done. Not only to her, but to their people. Weak. To her, he’d been invincible, all that was good and right in the world. He’d made her feel special. Thinking back now, she realized it was more her putting him up on a pedestal than him actually being perfect. All little girls wanted to think their papas were gods. Sadly, her bubble got busted in the worst way when it came to her father’s image.

  How would her sister feel if she had to give up the role of Regent? Especially to Katyia? Olivia would poison Nicolette against her if that happened. Her sister might hate her forever. At least she’d be safe, though. They’d all be safe. Katyia had no doubts she’d pass the tests. She’d known that for a long time, but it never mattered. The role belonged to her sister.

  As she’d told Roman, her sister deserved the chance to attempt the test. Roman. The man’s name set off a shiver in her. Good God, could he kiss. She sighed with the memory. She could still feel the touch of his lips against hers. Her fingers ran over her lips, relishing the memory. For a man of few words, and harsh ones when he did speak them, he could bring a girl to her knees with his touch.

  Katyia didn’t know what to make of Roman. One minute he was all angry and rude, the next full of concern and compassion. Some kind of switch seemed to have flipped with him. She’d felt a change in him even before he kissed her. She couldn’t define it, but he wasn’t as mean to her as before. She got a strong vibe from him, one that almost reeked of him caring about her. That couldn’t be right, though. He’d only met her yesterday.

  He wanted everyone to think of him as some hard ass, but the truth said otherwise. She saw bits and pieces of the brokenhearted little boy who grieved for his parents. She saw a man out to protect his people, a man born out of fire and rage and grief. The real man was lost in all that mess of emotions. She hoped one day she’d get to meet him.

  When it came to Roman, her emotions were all over the place. She blamed him to a certain degree for her current situation. If he hadn’t come to her father and made his proposal for protection, Olivia wouldn’t have had the opportunity to dispose of Katyia as she’d done. Then again, if Roman hadn’t been in the area, she wouldn’t have survived the ravager attack. She owed him her life. Three times now. If it weren’t for his words, she would still be plotting ways to die. He gave her a purpose that grew stronger with every moment. She would protect her people.

  Not that he didn’t have his own reasons for wanting her alive. He needed her to help him break into his uncle’s stronghold. She needed to see the place, test its magic. She wasn’t even sure she could do what he wanted. Her magic might be strong, but she’d never been formally trained like Nicolette had. No point in hiding her magic if they could se
e everything she could do in lessons. Her father had never given her lessons. What she knew, she’d learned to do on her own and by studying Nicolette’s books when no one was around. She feared what Roman wanted was out of her depth.

  She wouldn’t know until she got a good whiff of the magic guarding the place. Getting away from this camp and the judgmental eyes would be a bonus. On the walk back, she’d felt the eyes staring her down. She hated feeling like an albatross.

  If she were honest with herself, she’d felt like that all her life. She’d never understood as a child why her father had only visited them once a month before the attack. Oh, even as a child, she knew about his other children. It had always made her feel left out, like she wasn’t as loved. Once she came to live at the palace, that feeling went away around her father. He included her. Her brothers and Nicolette had welcomed her. It was only Olivia who had treated her like an interloper. She’d done her best to earn the woman’s love, but that wasn’t to be.

  Maybe getting away from this place, giving her time to come to terms with herself, would help her more than anything else.

  With that thought, she pulled herself up off the bed and went in search of the brute.

  Roman wiped the sweat off his face. The new recruits lay moaning on the ground. He grunted. They acted like he’d tried to murder them. He might have gone at them a bit harder than necessary, but they needed to learn to fight. To use their new strengths to their advantage in hand-to-hand combat as well as being able to wield a weapon. Fighting meant survival. Simple as that.

  A commotion broke out across from the camp and he looked to see Katyia arguing with Lucern. Her hands were flying everywhere as she spoke, the look of irritation on her face promising Lucern a world of hurt if he didn’t agree with whatever she wanted. He sheathed his sword and strode over to see what was going on.

  “I’m telling you if you don’t let me leave this bloody tent, I am going to make you.”

  “Not likely.” Lucern smirked. Roman groaned. Not a good thing to say to a witch now turned half vampire, half ravager. What was the man thinking?

  Katyia’s eyes narrowed. She took a deep breath and then blew it out in Lucern’s face. He staggered back, coughing. Katyia stepped out of the tent and ran right into Roman. She looked up, ready to hurl another threat until she saw who she’d come face to face with.

  “You.” She crooked her finger for him to follow and stepped back inside.

  Did the girl really just demand he follow her? Roman gave orders. He didn’t take them. Instead of following her, he turned to check on Lucern.

  The man seemed to have developed some kind of coughing fit. Roman pounded him on the back, but it didn’t do any good. The more Lucern tried to take a breath, the harder he coughed. The little witch needed to fix this.

  He stomped into the tent and found her standing in the middle of the floor, tapping her foot impatiently.

  “Took you long enough.”

  “What did you do to Lucern?”

  She waved the question off. “He’ll be fine.”

  “Why, pray tell, did you put him in a coughing fit?”

  She shrugged. “I needed to see you and he wouldn’t let me pass.”

  “That’s no reason to curse him!”

  “I didn’t curse him.” A laugh bubbled out of her. “I just bespelled him. He’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

  “Well, don’t do that to my men anymore.” The woman had no clue how perilous her place here was. “If you continue to show everyone how much damage you can do to them, they’ll never accept you. You’re a threat, and all these little displays aren’t doing anything to dispel that notion.”

  The smile on her face slipped away and he felt like a heel, but she needed to understand. “I didn’t hurt him. I just used a simple spell. It’s harmless.”

  “It didn’t look harmless. Perception, Katyia. It’s all about perception. If they see you as a threat, then they’ll do everything they can to protect themselves.”

  Roman knew his people wouldn’t touch her since he’d declared her under his protection, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t make her feel like an outcast. Mate or not, they had to be comfortable around her for them to accept her. She had to prove herself as much as they did.

  Katyia glanced toward the opening of the tent where Lucern struggled to catch his breath. She inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and when she opened them, Lucern was standing upright, breathing normally.

  “I truly meant no harm.” She sounded contrite. “I…I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t apologize often, do you?” he asked.

  “No, but I rarely do things that need an apology. I don’t know what’s come over me here.”

  Roman caught her up in a hug. She looked lost and his instincts drove him to comfort her. “You’re just adjusting to everything and your emotions are heightened right now. Just don’t do anything else that might look like you’re trying to hurt someone.”

  She nodded, her face buried in his shirt.

  “What did you need to see me about?”

  She pulled away from him and he let her go, but his arms twitched to hold on to her. “I was thinking about your uncle. You said something about witches being there too?”

  He nodded. “Yes, my uncle safeguards himself well.”

  “I can’t promise to help you until I see the place and get a feel for the magic protecting it. I need to go there, physically touch the wards he has up.”

  Roman sucked in a breath. The thought of taking her anywhere near that place sent him to a dark place. “No.”

  She looked up, startled at the vehemence in his tone. “It’s the only way I can help you, Roman.”

  “It’s too dangerous.” His teeth clenched. Mind made up, he glared her down. She wasn’t getting anywhere near that place.

  “Then how did you expect me to help you?” she asked, her nose scrunching in irritation. “Just whip up a magical brew in a pot and say voila, here you go, insta-magic? It doesn’t work like that. I have to get a feel for the types of wards and spells that are used to create the barriers in order to counter them. To do that, I need direct contact with them.”

  “No.”

  “What the hell is your problem?” she shouted. “Do you want my help or not?”

  “Of course he does.” Greggor closed the tent flap behind him as he came in. “He just doesn’t want to put you in danger. My brother doesn’t always use his words.”

  “He hardly ever uses his words except to get bossy,” Katyia grouched.

  Greggor laughed. “He’s a good man, just a little surly.”

  “I am not surly,” Roman bit out.

  “Yes, you are,” Katyia told him. “You are a mean, surly bastard who needs to make up your mind about what you want.”

  “Oh, I know exactly what I want.” And he did. He wanted Katyia. He’d realized that while he worked some of his stress off on the training field.

  She blew out a breath, her expression clearly stating she was dealing with a petulant child. “Then why are you being so obstinate?”

  “I’m not.” He poked at the fire. “My uncle’s stronghold is heavily guarded. We wouldn’t get within miles of it without being detected. I won’t risk your safety.”

  “Can you get in without my help?”

  Roman sighed. “No.”

  “Then let me do this.”

  “No. It’s one thing for you to help us with potions, but quite another to put yourself in danger. I won’t allow it.”

  “You won’t allow it?” she seethed. “It’s not up to you, brute.”

  Greggor poked him in the ribs with an elbow, reminding him of the conversation they’d had earlier today. If he took this choice away from her, was he any better than everyone else who’d done that? Was her happiness more important than her safety?

  “Can you make a potion or something to hide us from prying eyes outside their wards?” Greggor asked. Roman shot him a withering stare which his brother ignored.
<
br />   “A cloaking spell is easy enough. The potion will taste horrid, though.”

  “Is there any chance one of my uncle’s witches could detect your magic and see through it?” Roman asked.

  “There’s always a chance, but it’s not likely. Magic is funny. It always leaves a residue, but you have to be looking for it to detect it. If they aren’t looking for my magic specifically, they shouldn’t even know we are there.”

  “We would be there with her, Roman.” Greggor looked him in the eyes, his own earnest. “She’ll be safe.”

  “And it might go a long way to showing all these people I mean them no harm.” Katyia’s voice turned soft, quiet. “I need to do this, Roman. Please.”

  Roman wanted to shout with frustration. Greggor gave her a viable option Roman was hard pressed to argue with. Damn his hide.

  “Fine.” He forced the word out.

  “See, brute, that wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”

  “Brute?” Greggor asked curiously.

  “He reminds me of a brute, always using brute force to get what he wants.”

  His brother let out a laugh to rival a hyena’s. He wanted to punch him.

  “That about sums him up.”

  “I thought so too.” Katyia grinned.

  “Get out.” Roman pointed toward the tent opening. “Get out, now.”

  His brother chuckled, but obliged him. Roman turned his glower on the grinning woman in front of him.

  “Don’t glare like that.” She walked to stand by the fire. “Your face might freeze, and then what would people say?”

  “My face isn’t going to freeze.”

  “You sure about that?” She wiggled her fingers, her smile wicked.

  The chuckle slipped out, unbidden. She looked ridiculous standing there waving her fingers around threateningly, all the while smiling like a she-devil minx.

  “See? Laughing isn’t so hard either.”