The Hybrid
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Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing. During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me. I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst. She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side. "Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house." I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip. My heart went completely dead. So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate. I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table. "I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today."
Chapter 1
"If you're going to order the salmon, make sure they don't overcook it. The last time I was here, it was practically cat food."
Caroline Thompson stared at the man sitting across from her. Preston Finch. Financial analyst. Ivy League graduate. The eighteenth blind date her mother had forced her into in the last two years.
He wasn't looking at her. He was using his silver fork to trace the menu like he was grading a flawed exam paper.
"The wine list here is a joke," Preston continued, snapping the leather bound menu shut. He finally looked at her, his chin tilted in perpetual judgment. "At my club in New York, we have a sommelier. Here? I wouldn't trust them to open a beer."
Caroline's fingers dug into the fabric of her dress under the table. This was her life now. Sitting across from arrogant men who thought a fat paycheck bought them the right to treat everyone else like peasants.
"So, Caroline," Preston leaned back, offering a smirk that was probably meant to be charming but landed closer to constipated. "My mother mentioned you're a nurse?"
"Intern nurse," Caroline corrected automatically. "At Washington United Medical Center."
"Right." The smirk deepened into outright dismissal. "Must be exhausting. All that cleaning up and taking orders. And the pay? Practically minimum wage, right? Honestly, a pretty girl like you should just find a guy who provides. Someone who makes enough so you don't have to wipe up vomit for a living."
A muscle ticked in Caroline's temple. She opened her mouth to tell him exactly where he could shove his financial advice, but her phone buzzed.
She never took personal calls on a date. But right now, it was the only thing keeping her from baptizing Preston with her ice water.
She glanced at the screen. Her breath hitched. It wasn't just the hospital. It was the direct emergency line from the Chief of Staff.
She answered it right there. "Thompson."
"Caroline." Dr. Alistair Cromwell never used her first name. His voice, usually dripping with academic condescension, was flat. Breathless. "Get back here. Now."
"I'm off the clock, Dr. Cromwell. Is something—"
"I don't have time to repeat myself." The line crackled with background shouting. "This is not a drill. We are at Code Atlas. I say again, Code Atlas. Get here in ten minutes or don't bother coming back at all."
Click.
Caroline sat frozen, the dial tone buzzing against her ear.
Code Atlas.
In all her years of training, she had only heard that term whispered in break rooms like a ghost story. It meant catastrophe. Mass casualties. A high-level terror threat. It meant the world was falling apart.
"I have to go," Caroline said, already grabbing her coat.
Preston scoffed, slamming his water glass down. "You're joking. What kind of emergency could a nurse possibly have? We haven't even ordered."
"It's a Code Atlas," she said, not caring if he understood. She pulled a fifty-dollar bill from her wallet and dropped it on his pristine white tablecloth. "This covers my share of nothing. Goodbye, Preston."
She didn't wait for his face to finish flushing red. She turned on her heel and practically sprinted out of the restaurant.
The Washington air hit her in a heavy, soaking downpour. Adrenaline washed away the lingering disgust of the date. She flagged down a cab dropping someone off at the corner, sliding into the back seat before the passenger was fully on the curb.
"Washington United Medical Center," she gasped. "Step on it."
By the time the cab screeched to a halt, the rain had slowed to a mist, but the chill in Caroline's bones only deepened.
She stepped out and stopped dead.
The hospital had been turned into a fortress.
The main entrance wasn't blocked by ambulances, but by military police. Two armored Humvees idled across the driveway, their headlights cutting through the fog. Men in full combat gear, rifles strapped to their chests, stood behind concrete barricades.
This wasn't a mass casualty event. This was a federal lockdown.
Heart hammering against her ribs, Caroline approached the nearest checkpoint, holding up her ID badge with a trembling hand. "Caroline Thompson. I was paged by Dr. Cromwell."
The guard, a soldier with eyes like flint, scanned her badge, checked a clipboard, and stepped aside. "Go straight to the main desk. Do not deviate from the hallway, ma'am."
Caroline slipped under the yellow tape. The lobby was unrecognizable. The usual chaotic symphony of the ER was gone, replaced by a suffocating, terrified silence. Doctors and nurses huddled in clusters. Armed soldiers lined the corridors like statues.
"Thompson!"
Dr. Cromwell was striding toward her. He looked like he had aged a decade since morning. His white coat was rumpled, a dark coffee stain splashed across his tie.
"Listen carefully, I don't have time for questions," he snapped, his forehead gleaming with sweat. "You are assigned to ICU Room 3. You will monitor the patient's vitals. You will not speak to him. You will not touch any personal effects in the room. If his heart rate fluctuates by more than ten percent, you hit this button." He shoved a black pager into her palm. "Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir."
"Go."
Caroline walked briskly toward the private elevator bank. The air smelled different here—sharper, metallic, like ozone and gunpowder.
As she turned the corner, the doors of the VIP elevator slid open. A group of people emerged, moving like a single, lethal organism. Men in dark suits. Military brass with medals gleaming.
But they were just background noise.
In the center, walking slightly ahead, was a man who looked like he had been carved from granite and violence.
He was well over six feet, his shoulders straining the seams of his digital camouflage uniform. The rank on his chest—a silver eagle—demanded absolute submission. His face was a landscape of sharp angles and hard lines, his jaw set like a steel trap.
As the group passed, the man turned his head.
His eyes—a cold, piercing, impossible gray—swept the corridor. And for a fraction of a second, his gaze locked onto Caroline's.
It was like stepping onto a landmine.
The air was violently sucked from her lungs. A jolt of pure, electric heat shot down her spine, freezing her blood. Those eyes didn't just look at her; they stripped her down, assessed her threat level, and branded her in the span of a single heartbeat.
"Colonel Romero," an aide murmured, handing the man a classified tablet.
The spell shattered. The man—Colonel Romero—broke eye contact, taking the tablet without missing a stride. He began firing off orders in a low, gravelly voice that vibrated down the hallway.
Caroline let out a shaky breath, her knees suddenly weak. She hadn't realized she was holding onto the wall until a hand grabbed her arm.
"Are you breathing?" her friend Brenna whispered, pulling Caroline into a supply alcove. Brenna's face was paper-white. "Oh my god, Caroline. Did you see him?"
Caroline swallowed hard, her throat like sandpaper. "The Colonel?"
"Jarrod Romero," Brenna breathed, the name heavy with awe and terror. "Department of Defense. My cousin at the Pentagon says he's the guy they call when the world is ending." She clutched a medical chart to her chest. "He looks like he'd shoot you just for breathing his air."
Caroline rubbed the back of her neck, trying to dispel the lingering, phantom heat from that brief eye contact. "Where are you headed?"
"ICU 3. Cromwell's special assignment."
Brenna's eyes widened, all gossip vanishing instantly. "Oh, God. Caroline, be careful. That patient... this whole thing is black-ops. The FBI tried to get in twenty minutes ago and Romero's men turned them away at gunpoint."
"I just have to watch the monitors," Caroline said, though her voice lacked conviction.
She grabbed a supply cart and pushed through the double doors of the ICU wing. They hissed shut behind her, sealing her in a sterile, fluorescent-lit silence.
Two MPs stood outside Room 3, their faces blank masks. They checked her badge twice before unlocking the door.
The room was freezing. The steady beep-beep of the heart monitor was the only sound.
In the bed lay a young man, motionless. His face was a swollen canvas of bruises, thick bandages wrapping his torso. Caroline moved to the bedside, picking up the chart.
Alston Petersen. Lieutenant. JAG Corps.
The list of his injuries read like a torture report.
She set the chart down, her eyes fixed on the rhythmic spike of the heart monitor. Her pulse thrummed in her ears.
She had told Brenna she just had to watch the monitors. But standing in the freezing room, looking at the broken soldier, Caroline knew the truth.
She had just walked into the eye of a very deadly storm. And the man with the ice-gray eyes was the one holding the lightning.
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The Almighty Alpha Wins Back His Rejected Mate
Life was a bed of roses for Debra, the daughter of Alpha. That was until she had a one-night stand with Caleb. She was sure he was her mate as determined by Moon Goddess. But this hateful man refused to accept her. Weeks passed before Debra discovered that she was pregnant. Her pregnancy brought shame to her and everyone she loved. Not only was she driven out, but her father was also hunted down by usurpers. Fortunately, she survived with the help of the mysterious Thorn Edge Pack. Five years passed and Debra didn't hear anything from Caleb. One day, their paths crossed again. They were both on the same mission-carrying out secret investigations in the dangerous Roz Town for the safety and posterity of their respective packs. Caleb was still cold toward her. But as time went on, he fell head over heels in love with her. He tried to make up for abandoning her, but Debra wasn't having any of it. She was hell-bent on hiding her daughter from him and also making a clean break. What did the future hold for the two as they journeyed in Roz Town? What kind of secrets would they find? Would Caleb win Debra's heart and get to know his lovely daughter? Find out!
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Fated to the Cursed Lycan Prince
Accused of murder, Sylvia Todd's mother was deemed a traitor by the entire pack, condeming Sylvia to live the rest of her life alone in humiliation as a lowly slave. All she wanted to do was to prove her mother's innocence somehow, but fate never seemed to be on the side of the traitor's daughter. Still, Sylvia never lost hope. As the future lycan king of all werewolves, Rufus Duncan possessed great power and status, but he had an inexplicable reputation for being cruel, bloodthirsty, and ruthless. Unbeknownst to everyone, he had been cursed long ago to transform into a killer monster on every full moon. Even though fate did not always look upon the two, it brought Sylvia and Rufus together as each other's destined mates. Will justice be served for Sylvia's mother? What about Rufus' secret? Can Sylvia and Rufus defy all societal norms and stay together? Will these two unlucky souls have their happy ending?
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The Domineering Alpha's Regrets
Killian, the future Alpha of my pack was the werewolf I feared the most. He made my life a living hell. As a maid, I tried my best to serve him and his family. But he never stopped bullying me. My life took a turn for the worse when Killian forced himself on me on the night the heir was announced. He took my virginity in the cruelest manner! The evil werewolf wasn't even remorseful. Instead of making me his mate, he banished me from the pack. I had to flee with his seed in my belly. On many occasions, I almost lost my life in the wilderness. It took a long time before I finally settled down in a city far away. I put my life back on track and prayed that I'd never see that beast again. Unfortunately, Killian showed up five years later and began to pester me. "You belong to me. I won't have you raise my child with another man!" he said with audacity. It was as if I was reliving my years of torture. I hated him with every fiber of my being. Baring my teeth, I roared, "Are you crazy? I'm not yours. Leave me alone!" Killian lost his cool. He pushed me to the wall. His eyes burned scarlet as he said in a low voice, "Yes, I'm crazy. You are the only one that can make me sane again." I couldn't believe my ears. As I was trying to process what I just heard, Killian stunned me again. "I'm sorry for everything I did to you. Please forgive me and don't turn away from me. I can't live without you." What the hell happened to him? Was he being sincere? Should I accept him for the sake of our child?
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True Luna
Emma is excited. She will turn 18 and shift. She can't wait to become a wolf and help her pack. Her brother is Beta, and she wants to help him. She is hoping to find her mate. She is hoping it will be her friend, Jacob. They love each other, and they get along really well. She is excited and ready for everything life has to offer. Emma is surprised when her mate turns out to be the Alpha of her pack. But her happiness about finding her mate didn't last long. Her mate rejected her for a stronger she-wolf. That she-wolf hates Emma and wants to get rid of her, but that isn't the only thing Emma has to deal with. Emma finds out that she is not an ordinary wolf and that there are people who want to use her. They are dangerous. They will do everything to get what they want. They will hurt and kill. What will Emma do? Will her mate regret rejecting her? Will her mate save her from the people around them?
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Alpha's Regret: The Hybrid's Royal Contract
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Bonded{ The Hybrid's Curse}
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ENSLAVED TO THE HYBRID ALPHA QUAD BROTHERS
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MATED TO THE HYBRID ROGUE KING
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The Hybrid
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The Hybrid Moonlight's Curse
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The Hybrid King
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Mated To The Hybrid Alpha
Alexa dreaded her eighteenth birthday, why? On her eighteenth birthday she would officially be Alpha Diaz's Bedwarmer. Living as his slave was one thing but warming his bed every night was another... How could she warm the bed of the man who proclaimed her father a traitor, the one who is respons
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“Do it again.” “Be more specific, baby.” I heard a smile in his words. He was enjoying this and wanted me to beg. “Fuck you. You know what I mean.” I grunted in frustration. “I actually don’t.” He stopped again. His rough hand remained between my thighs. “Stop playing games, or I will stroke myself
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THE HYBRID WITCH
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The Hybrid's fate
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