Rising to the top with my three hybrid mates Chapter 82: She is insane

Eleanor’s POV

I scrambled over to Mira, my own panic eclipsing everything. Her eyes were wide with a terror I had put there. She was choking, and it was my fault.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry, hold on, I’ll get you out of this!" I begged, my voice cracking. I reached for her, but didn’t dare touch her, afraid I’d make it worse.

Beatrice! Help ! How do I stop it?

I don’t know! she shot back, her ntal voice frantic. This is your power, not just mine! You’re the one in control!

But I wasn’t in control. The rage was still a fire in my veins, and the fear for Mira was just fanning the flas. I could feel the invisible grip tightening.

In the distance, I heard the welco wail of sirens, but they were too late. People were starting to go limp on the ground. I had to do sothing now.

A desperate, insane thought flashed in my mind.

No! Beatrice scread. That’s not the way!

I ignored her. I focused, and felt the familiar, sharp prickle as my claws slid from my fingertips. I didn’t let myself think. I squeezed my eyes shut, raised my hand, and drove my own claws deep into my thigh.

A scream tore from my throat, white-hot agony obliterating every other thought—the rage, the fear, the power. It was all consud by the searing pain.

And just like that, the choking stopped.

The silence was broken by Mira’s ragged, gasping intake of air. She collapsed forward, coughing and sucking in precious oxygen.

Relief, sharp and painful, washed over . I’d seen it in movies about how a shock to soone breaks their power focus. I guess it applied in reality, too.

The police sward the area, shouting commands, surrounding the scene. I could only press my hands hard against the bleeding gash on my leg, the pain a grounding, necessary anchor. I reached out with my other hand, holding Mira’s head as she continued to gasp.

"I’m so sorry," I whispered, my tears mixing with the sweat and blood on my face. "Mira, I’m so, so sorry."

The world beca a blur of flashing lights and urgent voices. Paradics sward around us, their movents efficient and calm amidst the chaos I had created. I watched as they carefully loaded a still-gasping Mira onto a stretcher, her face pale. The sight sent a fresh wave of guilt crashing over .

Strong hands were suddenly on , guiding onto another stretcher. A paradic began applying pressure to my leg, the sting a sharp counterpoint to the numbness spreading through . As they lifted and started carrying toward the waiting ambulance, one thought crystallized in my pain-fogged mind, clear and undeniable.

I had to find out. I had to know what I was, where I ca from. This power isn’t so simple werewolf trait. It was sothing darker, sothing I couldn’t control, and it had almost killed the person I cared about most. This couldn’t happen again. I needed answers.

***

Priscilla’s POV

Lying in this sterile hospital bed, I can’t believe my eyes. Or rather, I can’t believe what I just saw. One mont, everything was perfect. I was enjoying the most satisfying spectacle of my life—watching that wretched Eleanor finally get what she deserved, beaten into the ground where she belongs. The next... the next I was on the cold, hard pavent, gasping for air like a fish out of water.

It doesn’t make any sense. How did the scene shift so completely?

And Eleanor... she was just standing there. While the rest of us were choking, fighting for a breath that wouldn’t co, she was completely unaffected. I saw her face. It wasn’t just anger; it was pure, unadulterated evil. A look of such dark rage it made my blood run cold. I shudder just rembering it.

It reminds of that day at ho, a fleeting mont that i still can’t believe. She choked . Just for a second, her hands were around my neck, and her eyes... they were the sa. I was so shocked then that soone as pathetic as Eleanor could show such force. But now I’m sure. I wasn’t seeing things.

Eleanor isn’t human.

She’s one of them. A supernatural creature. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense. It explains everything! It explains why she’s changed from the quiet, ek little mouse I could push around to this... this defiant creature who stands up for herself. I thought it was just a phase, that she’d eventually break and crawl back. But now I know the reason. She thinks she’s better than us. She thinks her new... abilities... make her bold.

But how is this possible? Our family is completely human. I know we have our connections in that world, but our bloodline is pure. So where did she get it from?

This changes everything. She’s been hiding this from us. She’s been pretending to be one of us while secretly being... other. This is why she thinks she can humiliate , why she can ruin my wedding and my public image. Well, she’s made a fatal mistake. She’s shown her true colors. And I’m going to make sure everyone knows what a monster my dear sister really is.

The door opened and the doctor walked in. Instantly, I let my body go limp, my eyes widening with a fragile, helpless fear. "Doctor," I whispered, my voice a trembling thread. "My husband... is he alright? I need to see him."

The doctor gave a reassuring smile. "Mr. Moore is awake and stable. He just needs so rest. Now, let just check your vitals quickly, and if everything is fine, you can go see him."

I offered a weak, grateful nod, pressing a hand to my chest as if to calm my racing heart. As he checked my blood pressure, I bit my thumbnail, my thoughts churning.

This was an absolute disaster. This wasn’t the plan at all. The plan was simple: ruin Eleanor. Get the ultimate revenge for the humiliation she inflicted on at my own wedding, for making a spectacle of in front of everyone. I still don’t believe for a second that she’s over Dickson. A woman doesn’t just get over a man like that. She’s clearly still obsessed, still trying to destroy his happiness because she can’t have him.

The opportunity had fallen into my lap so perfectly. A man had approached us. He said Eleanor had offended so very important people, and his goal was to bring her reputation to the mud.

Did I want to help? Of course I did. Anything to see Eleanor suffer, you can count in. He’s the one who provided the cars and the n today, right after Eleanor’s foolish live stream where she threatened to show her so-called "proof."

But this... this changes things. If what she said is true... if Dickson really only got his job because of her... I can feel my cheeks burn with fresh humiliation. I would never, ever allow that kind of proof to get out. The world cannot think for one second that my husband is less intelligent than Eleanor. The very idea is laughable. Insulting.

"The doctor finished his examination. "You’re good to go, Mrs. Blake. Just take it easy."

The second he was gone, I swung my legs out of bed. I smoothed down my clothes, my mind already racing with new, vicious plans. After getting Dickson’s room number from the nurse’s station, I walked quickly down the hall.

I reached his room and pushed the door open without knocking. The familiar, imposing man who had provided the cars was standing by the window, his back to . Dickson was propped up in the hospital bed, his face pale. When he saw , his eyes lit up with a desperate relief.

"Priscilla! Thank god. Tell him," Dickson pleaded, gesturing weakly toward the man. "Tell him I’m not lying. Everyone just started choking for no reason!"

I imdiately put on my best concerned-wife expression, wringing my hands slightly. "It’s true," I said, my voice soft and earnest. "It was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen. One mont everything was fine, the next... we were all on the ground, gasping."

The man turned from the window. His face was stern, utterly unreadable, and a shiver of fear went down my spine. This was not a man to be trifled with. I made sure my gaze was appropriately submissive.

"Do you know how it started?" he asked, his voice low and calm, yet it demanded an answer.

"I... I don’t know," I said, letting a little tremor enter my voice. "It was so sudden. But the oddest thing... the brat, Eleanor, she wasn’t affected at all. She was just standing there, watching us."

The man’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you suggesting Eleanor initiated the event?"

Dickson scoffed from the bed, wincing at the movent. "That’s impossible. Eleanor is human."

"But she’s not," I insisted, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I saw her face when I was gasping for air. It was... inhuman. Full of rage. She’s not human."

The man studied for a long, silent mont. "So, neither of you were aware that Eleanor is a werewolf?"

The air left the room. Dickson and I stared, utterly stunned. A werewolf. So that’s what she was.

So, Eleanor thought her new little identity as a monster gave her the right to stand up to ? To humiliate ? She was very, very wrong. I will co back for her, in a million fold.