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“Welcome,” he said, excitement brimming from him. “I’m very glad the two of you decided to become a part of this.”

He was away from his fancy purple suit get-up that he’d been wearing at the party, the last time I’d encountered him, and he was in his usual much more casual look with a pair of wide-leg blue jeans tucked into some work boots, and a red flannel shirt stretching across his wide, muscular chest.

There was a guy standing to his side and he gestured at him, telling Velra and me, “This is another member of our team. Branok Vire.”

“Basilisk-Vampire hybrid,” the guy informed us in a deep baritone, uttering the words proudly, which was actually really refreshing.

I took him in curiously, while I saw Velra studying him in a much more shrewd and defensive way.

Branok looked to be in his forties in human years. He was a massive, powerhouse figure with a whole lot of muscle and height. His long, shock of white hair was pulled back into a braid with silver binding cords. His eyes shone gold and snake-like, although I wasn’t getting a sly vibe from him or anything, it was just the appearance of them—kind of beautiful and special actually. He was wearing tailored multicolored robes that gave off a regal air.

“Nice meeting you,” I offered.

“You, too,” he responded politely.

“Hey,” Velra spoke to him.

He gave her a chin lift with a kind, welcoming smile.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Warlow said, before leading the way into the Great Hall with Branok following, then Velra and I doing the same.

Damn,the place was a lot to take in.

I’d heard about it, but never actually laid eyes on it before.

It was beyond striking.

A massive, circular amphitheater took up the vast majority of the space within.

The room was built from ivory stone, its curved walls embedded with inscriptions that pulsed subtly with power. The seating rose in ascending tiers. At the center was the Speaker’s Circle, a raised platform where one would stand to address the assembly. Massive banners hung from the ceiling, each bearing the markings belonging to every supernatural species.

As we walked in, there were already three other members there, sitting on the seats right in front of the Speaker’s Circle.

Warlow wasted no time in introducing us to them.

Seralyn Vale was the first one to get an introduction. She looked to be in her early thirties in human years, incredibly tall and willowy. She was a Light Fae-Dark Fae hybrid. Her flowing black hair was bound in elaborate coils. She had one violet eye and one deep-green eye. She was clad in layered, semi-sheer fabrics that gave off a whole shadowy and elegant look.

The next was Darian Syl, a Vampire-Light Fae hybrid who was only nineteen years of age with a compact yet toned physique. He was lounging back in his seat, both arms draped over two empty ones on either side of him. He had white-blond hair that fell just past his jaw, tucked behind his ears. He was wearing soft, layered clothes in various pastel shades.

Kael Dravon was a Djinn-Werewolf hybrid who looked to be in his late thirties with a lean build. He had dark auburn hair that was spiked with a whole lot of product. The exposed skin of his arms and chest in a low-cut black sheer tank was glowing with red and orange tattoos in an otherworldly manner.

We all exchanged pleasantries, then Warlow stepped into the Speaker’s Circle, and told us, “We’re just waiting on one more member, then we’ll officially get started. In the meantime, I want to say that I’m overjoyed that so many of you accepted my offer to become a part ofCrossborn.The courage and strength that it took for each of you to leave the shadows and take a step forward in this manner isn’t lost on me, nor the Guardian Movement as a whole. You share the vision of improving the lives of hybrids across the supernatural world, of giving those like us a place to belong, providing safety and opportunity that has been beyond the grasp of far too many for far too long. Wewillachieve that goal. Wewillmake a difference. And I thank you, for stepping up to become a part of that.”

Applause sounded, Darian even whooping, and I smiled out at the room, elated to be a part of this whole thing that would serve to change so much in the most amazing ways.

Footsteps sounded, and we all swung our heads to see somebody striding into the room with a confident swagger.

He looked college-age like a few of us. He had short, dark-brown with green streaks in it and piercing steel-gray eyes. He was a well-built guy, dressed like he was ready for battle, in black combat gear, even wearing steel-toe boots.

As I took him in, I heard Warlow introduce him as Lazriel Thaine, a Werewolf-Vampire hybrid. Unlike the rest of us on this team, he had been born a hybrid like Warlow, not created through experiments.

“Had an assignment to hand in at Wraeven Academy,” he told the room to explain the delay with him getting here, but he didn’t actually offer any apologies for showing up late.

As he approached where we were all sitting, walking with the air of a fighter, I noticed the prominent scars all over his neck and dipping below his top as well. There were even a couple of slashes over the left side of his face.

“Have a seat,” Warlow told him. “We’ve only just begun.”

Lazriel gave him a chin lift, then took each of us in as he approached the seating area.