The First Hybrid | H.Mikaelson

II

●1140●

The dense woods at the edge of a small, quiet town. The sun is setting, casting long shadows through the trees. The air was crisp, the ground littered with fallen leaves that crunched underfoot. The scent of pine and earth filled the air, mingled with the faint, sharp tang of fear carried on the wind.

Valkyrie moved silently through the forest, her heightened senses picking up the frantic sounds of pursuit—a young boy, wolf recently triggered, running for his life. The humans chasing him were ruthless, their shouts and arrows slicing through the trees, growing louder with each passing moment.

Her vampire instincts surged, her speed and strength at the ready, but she kept her wolf nature tightly restrained. Revealing that part of herself could draw too much attention. She had to remain in control, avoid chaos, and keep the situation under control.

"Stay calm, stay focused," she reminded herself, eyes narrowing as she zeroed in on the terrified wolf's scent. She could sense his panic, hear his heart pounding in his chest, his breaths ragged and desperate. He was close—too close to the hunters.

In a blur of motion, Valkyrie intercepted the hunters, moving with the silent grace of a predator. She disarmed them effortlessly, her movements too fast for human eyes to track. Gathering their bows, she threw it down, the tense silence broken by their bows clattering to the ground, and before they could react, she was upon them. The man she held up dangled helplessly as his group stood back startled by his yelp.

"You will not prey on children again." Her eyes flashed a dangerous gold, making the men retreat.

She moved fast, and she compelled them to forget what they had seen, to return home with no memory of the wolf, only the failed chase after a deer. The hunters, dazed and confused, obeyed without question, stumbling back the way they came.

As soon as they were gone, Valkyrie turned her attention to the young wolf. He was huddled behind a large tree, his wide, frightened eyes watching her every move. His hair was matted with dirt, his body trembling with fear. He was just a boy, barely old enough to understand what he had become.

Valkyrie crouched down a few feet away, careful not to frighten him further. She softened her expression, letting the warmth Astrid usually kept hidden show in her eyes. "It is alright," she said gently, her voice calm and soothing. "The archers are gone now. You are safe."

The boy didn't move, his eyes darting between Valkyrie and the direction the hunters had fled. He didn't trust her—how could he? He had been running for his life, and now a stranger had appeared out of nowhere, dealing with his pursuers as if they were nothing but mere inconveniences.

"You're a creature," he said, his voice trembling, though there was a spark of curiosity in his gaze. "But… but not like me."

Valkyrie nodded slowly. "Not exactly like you, no. But I am here to help."

"Why?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Because no one should go through this alone," she replied, her tone firm yet kind. "I have been where you are—scared, confused, not knowing who to trust. But you are not alone anymore."

As Valkyrie spoke, she felt a familiar stirring within her—a darker, stronger presence pushing its way to the surface. Astrid was always close, ready to take over if Valkyrie's gentle approach failed. Normally, she would resist, fearing that Astrid's coldness would only frighten the boy further, but this time, something was different.

"Let me," Astrid's voice echoed in her mind, a calm yet authoritative tone that Valkyrie hadn't expected. There was no anger, no rage—just a quiet confidence. Reluctantly, Valkyrie allowed the shift, feeling Astrid's influence take hold.