It's the year 3078, and humans are almost extinct—well, not exactly. It started on a cold winter morning two hundred years ago. Portals from different worlds opened, forming an interdimensional half-moon landscape, six times the size of Earth.
With creatures stronger and more advanced than them, it didn't take long for humanity's population to drastically reduce, as their frequent guests were none other than their natural predator: vampires.
Looked down upon as just prey, humanity took their only escape route—took cover under the werewolves, mated with them, sometimes at the cost of their lives, and brought forth hybrid offspring they hoped carried more of their DNA.
What they didn't know was that these children would later be looked down on by their Packs, and their hybrid blood feverishly desired by vampires as a new kind of drug that invoked a high level of euphoria.
But humanity's greatest disappointment would come when, hundreds of years later, the werewolves created an alliance with the vampires.
***
"Case Number 8787, walk up to the Aetherion."
I counted the digits on the plastic card, sighed deeply, and walked up to the machine, which now had a white screen beaming down at me. Reaching it, I stopped.
The staff member, a woman in her mid-fifties, took one look at my wiry frame, then sighed so loud my ears hurt. "You're really here to get tested?"
I frowned. Why else would anyone be in the Nexus Tribunal?
"Yes, I am," I answered confidently, pushing down Caspian's baseball cap over my newly cut hair. "I'm an Alpha's son. There's a high chance I meet the cutoff for the trial..."
She eyed me aghast. "You talk pretty big for someone who's blood would probably fetch a fine price on the black market."
I kept my eyes blank and on her, holding her gaze even though my heart pounded erratically. But people like her needed only one opportunity to kick you to the curb. So I straightened my shoulders, waiting.
She huffed. "Let's get this circus over with. A drop of blood in the plate, please."
Right before me, a translucent bowl appeared on the dais, and beside it was a small stainless knife.
I took a deep breath.
The staff glared at me, brown eyes darkening. "Sir, a drop of blood in the plate, please."
Quieting my heartbeat and the voice screaming in my head, I nodded, picked up the knife, raised my left thumb, and punctured.
***
Five minutes later, I took a turn into a secluded alley, and there Caspian sat on the floor, back to the wall and still patting the bloodstained bandage around his palm.
When he saw me, he pushed himself up. Spotting the shadow on my face, he sighed. "I told you it wasn't gonna work."
I smiled, drew out the acceptance letter, and waved it in his face. "Gotcha. Gold light. I'm jealous, Caspian."
He snatched it from my hand, laughed, and dropped back down. "Was about to wrestle you and demand my blood back."
I sank beside him so our shoulders touched. While he read the letter, I stared at his hand. The bandage was still leaking. Guilt churned in my gut. I shouldn't have cut so deep.
Minutes before standing on the Aetherion, I had taken Caspian's blood, storing it in a thick thumb glove the color of my skin tone.
So when the staff had ordered me to puncture, it wasn't my blood that triggered the gold light—it was Caspian's.
The woman's face had paled in an instant, and her sassiness became instant respect.
Must be nice being an Alpha.
"You know..." Caspian's low voice broke the silence. "You don't have to go through this to hide from Father. I can set a safe place for you to—"
I snatched the letter from his hand and walked off.
"Okay, okay—I'm sorry."
I stopped.
I knew Caspian meant well, but he'd never know how it felt to be looked down on because of your repressed nature—repressed nature you were scared to find out was because of what you suspected you were. A hybrid.
Soon I felt him close behind me. He exhaled. "I'm afraid... the thought of anything happening to..."
I shut my eyes. "The last thing I need is you doubting me, even though I'm bound for failure."
His heartbeat quickened, then slowed. Caspian wrapped his arms around me. "If it gets too much, I'll get you out."
I pffted with a smile. "That's not how to believe in anyone, stupid."
He grunted. "Shut up, manipulator." Then huffed, "By the way, you look anything but a boy..."
***
Except what Caspian forgot to tell me was that he wouldn't be accompanying me because apparently, the heirs to the thrones of their Packs were having a separate trial.
So now we're standing in the middle of a rundown building, windows broken and rickety. From it, one could see almost the entirety of Riverdale.
In this building was a large wooden table, and on it were bits and pieces of motor spare parts that smelled stolen, and four camping beds decked against each side of the wall.
"...Yeah, it's stolen." A sly masculine voice cut through my trance. I turned, and he smirked. "Already rethinking, princess?"
"Bug off, Levi," Caspian grunted.
And the boy—white-haired and pale-pupilled, which screamed his abilities as a Gifted priest, numerous piercings that did not, dark skin and a lithe, athletic build—shrugged.
Levi had taken one good look at me and decided I was an object of amusement.
Next to him was another boy, wire-framed glasses perched on his nose, brown-haired and lanky, with warm, purple-like eyes.
He hadn't looked at me once and seemed too engrossed in his scribbling. Caspian had said his name was Pierre.
Then the last guy, flinging a canteen he'd just finished drinking from onto a pile, turned to glare at both Caspian and me.
Caspian left my side. "Come on, Sett. I just want you to keep an eye on her. I'm paying you, stupid fuck."
"She's a liability," Sett muttered. "I don't like liabilities."
They'd been arguing for over an hour, and with every word Sett spit, my blood boiled.
I wasn't sure if I wanted to hate him or be like him.
For you see, Sett was obviously an Alpha—slightly more muscular than Caspian—but Sett didn't seem like any Alpha I knew.
Alphas were the top of the hierarchy. You'd never walk into a rundown building expecting to see one in faded clothes, worn-out boots, and obviously stealing for a living.
Yet he still managed to look at an Omega who was basically a princess like she was beneath him, and at the next-in-line to the throne like they were equals.
Now Sett strode up to me, eyeing my tattered and dusty clothes. "Go home, princess. This ain't some fairy tale."
It was hard to hold his icy grey pupils when they seemed to burn into me. He'd look better with blood splattered on that stupid, pretty, scarred face.
"I said leave!"
"You don't tell me what to do."
It left my mouth before I could think about it, and in an instant the room went eerily silent. Two pairs of eyes fixed on us. But the scribbling continued.
Shit, what have I done? Should I apologize? Naah, I wasn't apologizing to this condescending animal no matter how afraid I was. But... why wasn't Caspian helping... doing anything?
Sett's rage spilled over. "You little..." His fist rose, approaching at the speed of light toward my face.
And with adrenaline pumping, making the fear in my gut race, I moved quickly, fingers snatching the hilt of his dagger latched against his belt and pressing hard against his neck.
There, even the scribbling stopped. I could feel Pierre's eyes on me.
"Oh shit," Levi laughed.
At the corner of my eye, I saw Caspian's proud grin.
My hands shook. My pupils wavered. My stomach churned at the sight of beads of his blood coating the edge of the blade.
"Get off," Sett growled.
He'd kill me... The knife clattered to the floor, and I staggered back, shaky hands latched at my side, waiting for his attack.
But then Pierre shut his book and stood up, the pendant on his neck glittering in the only light in the room.
"She passed your test," Pierre spoke for the first time. His voice was as warm as he was. "Leave the kid alone. She earned it."
A test... It was all a test. And I almost killed him. Was his hate also a test? Sett wiped the blood from his neck and glared at me. Obviously not.
Then, walking away, he snarled, "She's your problem now. I just want my share of the loot after she dies."
"Of course, you little bastard," Levi scoffed. For a Gifted, he cursed a lot.
But Pierre, withdrawing a small pair of scissors from his pocket, smiled at me. My first real smile in two years.
"Red," he tilted his head, studying my medium-length hair. "Draws attention." He snipped a lock. I watched each strand meet the floor. "Now short and black, mon trésor." He ruffled my hair. "What do you think?"
I felt like a kid when I smiled at him.
Maybe it wouldn't be that bad.