

Spellbound: Mated To The Tribrid
Spellbound: Mated To The Tribrid Summary
Chapter 1 of Spellbound: Mated To The Tribrid
Hello, Lovely Readers,
Welcome to Ashford, where vampires and Lycans live under an uneasy peace, witches remain hidden, and some secrets are better left buried.
In this story, you may encounter a few supernatural terms unique to the world of Spellbound.
I hope you enjoy the journey.
XOXO,Queenie
Chapter 1 — The Crescent
The body was still warm when I arrived.
I stopped outside the alley, staring at the crowd gathered behind the police barricade. Ashford was usually quiet at this hour. Not tonight. The narrow street was packed with people in dark coats, curious civilians standing behind the barriers while several armed vampires guarded the scene.
I tightened my grip around the medical bag hanging from my shoulder.
I shouldn’t be here.
That was my first thought.
My second was worse.
I knew that symbol.
A silver crescent had been carved into the victim’s chest. I had seen it before. Not on a corpse. The symbol resembled the one on the pendant I wore beneath my clothes.
“Miss Fallon.”
I turned. A tall vampire officer approached me, his expression grim.
“You were called because you’re the clinic’s night physician.”
“That’s what I was told.”
He stepped aside. “Then tell us what killed him.”
I looked toward the body. The victim was a middle-aged vampire nobleman. His throat had been torn open, but there was almost no blood around him. That was wrong. Very wrong. Vampires didn’t bleed like humans. Even when wounded, their blood usually flowed slowly before their bodies began healing. But this man was dead. Completely dead. As if a stake had been driven through him until his heart was removed.
I crouched beside him. “How long has he been here?”
“Approximately twenty minutes.”
“Who found him?”
“A patrol.”
I reached toward the wound.
“Don’t.”
The command came sharply from behind me. I looked up. A second vampire stood several feet away. He was older, dressed in an expensive black coat, with the insignia of the royal court pinned to his chest.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because this isn’t a medical investigation anymore.” His gaze dropped to the silver crescent. “It’s a royal matter.”
My stomach tightened. I already knew that. Everyone in Ashford knew. Three vampire nobles had been murdered in less than two weeks. And all three had carried the same mark. The silver crescent.
“Do you know what it means?” I asked carefully.
The older vampire’s eyes narrowed. “You seem unusually interested.”
“I work in a clinic. I’m interested in anything that might have caused someone’s death.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
My fingers curled around the strap of my medical bag. “I’m not.”
He stepped closer. “That symbol belonged to a bloodline that was supposedly destroyed decades ago.”
My heartbeat stumbled. I lowered my eyes. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“Everyone in Ashford knows something about it.”
“Then perhaps you should ask everyone.”
The vampire stared at me for a long moment before turning away. “Take the body to the royal physicians.”
The younger officer nodded. As they carried the corpse away, I remained frozen. My hand slipped beneath my shirt. My fingers found the silver pendant hanging against my skin. The crescent. The exact same crescent.
I had spent years telling myself it meant nothing. Now someone was carving it into dead vampires. That could not be a coincidence.
“Miss Fallon?”
I looked up. The officer was watching me again. “Are you coming?”
“Yes.” I grabbed my bag and walked away without looking back.
I didn’t breathe properly until I reached the clinic. The moment the door closed behind me, I locked it. Then I checked the windows. Twice. Only after I was certain no one had followed me did I pull the pendant from beneath my shirt. The silver crescent rested in my palm.
My father’s voice suddenly returned to me. Not his entire voice. Just a fragment. Never let them see it.
I had been six when he said it. Maybe seven. I couldn’t vividly remember. My childhood existed in pieces. My mother’s face. My father’s hands. A burning house. Someone screaming. Then nothing. My mother disappeared shortly afterward. My father died years later. And I learned very young that asking questions could get people killed. So I stopped asking. I put the pendant away.
Then the clinic door rattled. I froze. Someone knocked. Three times.
“Miss Fallon?”
I recognized the voice. “Open the door.”
I exhaled. It was Mrs. Bell, one of the clinic’s regular patients. I unlocked the door. The elderly werewolf stumbled inside.
“What happened?”
“Nothing serious.”
“You’re bleeding.”
She glanced down at the cut across her arm. “That?”
“Yes, that.”
She shrugged. “I got into a disagreement.”
“With whom?”
“A vampire.”
I stared at her. “Of course you did.”
She smiled. “You shouldn’t judge.”
“I’m a doctor. I’m allowed to judge when my patients are idiots.”
She laughed. I cleaned the wound while she talked about everything except the reason she had actually come. Then she suddenly became quiet.
“You heard about the killings?”
My hands stopped. “Everyone has.”
“People are saying the old bloodline has returned.”
I looked at her through the mirror. “What old bloodline?”
She lowered her voice. “The crescent bloodline.”
I continued cleaning her wound. “I thought they were extinct.”
“So did everyone else.”
“What makes people think they’re back?”
“The mark.”
My stomach tightened. Mrs. Bell watched me carefully. “They say whoever carries that blood is dangerous.”
“People call anything dangerous when they don’t understand it.”
She laughed softly. “You sound like you know something.”
I met her eyes. “I know better than to believe rumors.”
She studied me for another second. Then she smiled. “Good answer.”
When she left, I locked the door again. The clinic suddenly felt too small. I couldn’t stay. Not tonight. I grabbed my coat and stepped outside.
Ashford looked beautiful after midnight. That was the problem. The city hid its darkness well. Streetlamps illuminated rows of old buildings with elegant balconies and tall windows. Cars rolled quietly along the wet streets. Music drifted from restaurants and private clubs. But beneath the polished surface lived three supernatural races that trusted each other about as much as wolves trusted hunters.
Vampires controlled most of the city’s wealth. Lycans controlled the military. And witches? Nobody knew where they were. They were supposed to live among humans, hiding their magic. At least, that was what everyone believed.
I pulled my coat tighter. I knew better. I knew because I was one of them. Not only a witch. Not only a vampire. Not only a wolf. All three. A tribrid. The word alone was enough to get me killed. I had spent years making sure nobody discovered the truth.
But tonight, something felt different. Someone was searching for my bloodline. And if they were using the silver crescent, they might already be close.
I hurried toward my apartment. Halfway there, I heard footsteps. I stopped. Nothing. I continued walking. The footsteps returned. Faster. I glanced over my shoulder. A man stood beneath a streetlamp. He was staring directly at me.
I walked faster. So did he. My wolf stirred beneath my skin. Run. I hated when she did that. She was usually quiet. Tonight, she was terrified.
I turned into a side street. The footsteps followed. I reached the corner and suddenly smelled blood. Not human. Vampire. My instincts screamed. I ran. Behind me, someone shouted. “There!”
I didn’t wait to see who it was. I sprinted through the alleyways, my heart hammering. I knew these streets. But whoever was chasing me knew them too. I turned left. Then right. Then through a narrow passage I had never used before. I emerged into an unfamiliar district.
Everything changed. The streetlights disappeared. The buildings became older. The air felt colder. Even the sounds of the city seemed distant. I looked behind me. No one. I let out a shaky breath.
Then I heard music. A low melody drifting from somewhere ahead. I followed it. Not because it was safe. Because going back wasn’t. The street opened into a small square filled with old buildings and dimly lit windows. At the end stood a bar. A sign hung above the entrance. THE BLACK MOON.
I stared at it. I’d heard stories about this place. Everyone in Ashford had. The Black Moon sat inside a forbidden district where vampires and Lycans were forbidden from carrying weapons, settling disputes, or starting fights. It was neutral ground. Which meant it was probably the safest place I could find.
I pushed open the door. The noise inside immediately swallowed me. Music. Laughter. Glasses clinking. Supernatural creatures of every kind filled the room. I kept my head down. I needed a drink. Something strong enough to quiet my wolf. I reached the bar.
“Whiskey.”
The bartender looked at me. “Bad night?”
“You have no idea.”
He poured the drink. I took one sip. My wolf stirred again. Not fear this time. Something else. Something unfamiliar. I turned toward the entrance. And froze.
A man had just walked inside. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. There was something about him that made every instinct inside me go completely still. My wolf whispered one word. Mate.
I couldn’t breathe. The stranger’s eyes found mine. And for the first time in years, I forgot to hide.
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