OBLIVION

It was cold. Too cold. It was as if the air around me were pricking me with tiny needles of ice, sharp and painful. I stood, alone, on the eerie porch with dim lighting of my fathers home. Luggage on my side, I never thought I would be back here again. Especially after graduating college.

It was no secret I wasn't loved here. I was an outsider amongst the community here. Where everyone else’s wolf prowled just beneath their skin, mine slept in silence — if it existed at all. I was something else entirely.

I moved around the wrap-around porch to look into a window, looking for signs of movement. I had knocked and no one came. My father doesn't stop his work for me and my step-mother, Violet, never paid me any attention.

"You shouldn't be here."

Startled by the low baritone voice, I turned around almost losing footing. There stood my eldest brother, Angel Jr. He was our father's pride and joy. As he watched me, I could see the discernment in his dark narrow eyes. They resembled our fathers. The same dark brown that swam with rage. I drew in a shallow breath and moved back to my luggage.

"It didn't work out," I said curtly. I was already nervous about being here again, I was hoping my family could give me ease. I have a feeling that was wishful thinking. He walked past me, opening the door.

"Well," He jerked the door open, "are you coming in or what, runt?"

Flinching at the nickname, I hurried inside. The temperature was a screeching difference than outside. It was warmer. The heat hugged my skin and my hands became clammy. The door shut behind me as a woman with long, red curls bounced off her shoulders as she greeted Junior. She was beautiful. The kind of beautiful that made you feel like you couldn't compare. Everything about her was superior. She looked at me with abhorrence weaved in her green eyes.

"Violet," I greeted quietly.

She scoffed and linked arms with her son as they left me behind in the foyer. The house I spent my adolescence in hadn't changed much. The walls were still painted in grey with brush stroke textures. The same pictures were still hung, one of each of my siblings and a family portrait, not including me. There were no pictures of me here. I sighed and picked up my luggage, heading to my designated room— the basement.

Nothing here's changed either. Same bed, same bare desk, just accumulated dust. How was I going to make it here, in this house, with these people who don't see me as family? I could feel the tears build in my eyes. Taking in a shaky breath I began to clean and unpack. I had to make the most of my time here. This was the only place I was safe.

"Nat," called another voice from the basement doorway. I couldnt see him from here but I knew it was Brennen. My older brother and the only brother who sympathizes with me. After all, I didn't ask for this life.

A small smile stretched on my face as he came into view. He looked just like Violet. Same green eyes, same rosy colored skin, same red hair. He was the only one to get her gingered hair. He gave me one of those awkward side hugs and put his hands in his pockets.

"Brennen, it's nice to see you. You've gotten taller," I exclaimed. He let out a soft chuckle.

"Or maybe you got shorter."

I gasped at his jab at my height and slapped his arm. I was only 5'2 and sure, maybe I was on the curvier side of everyone else here. I exhaled, and the sound seemed to carry all my weariness. We stood in silence as I took in my situation.

"Bren, I‐I don't know if I can handle this," I admitted in defeat. His expression hardened. Brennen wasn't a soft man. He doesn't accept weakness, a trait from our father.

"Well, you have to Nataleigh. Dad's one rule, you can't draw attention to us or you. You're not like us nor are you like them. You broke the rules. You drew attention to yourself."

"It was my best friend. I couldn't lie anymore. She saved my life!"

"You put hers in danger," he argued back.

I couldn't say more. He was right. I had endangered her life by one simple mistake that could have been prevented if I had followed the proper protocols. If I had listened. We could still be roommates now if I listened. But one small mistake cost me everything.

"You are to go to work at the Mitchell Pack's high school as a teacher and then come back here when your shift is over," ordered Brennen. His voice was harsh. He never talked to me this way.

"Dad sent you down here," I said in realization.

His expression softened but he didn't deny it. Our father would send a messenger rather than interact with me in person on his own doing. Brennen let out a sigh as he handed me a cooler bag. I opened it to see what my father counts as my daily rations. Enough blood to keep me alive but never enough to dull the ache I feel when Im in need of feeding. If I was a full blooded vampire, rationing would make me weaker than I am but given I'm not, I was lucky.

There isn't much knowledge about me since I was the first and only hybrid alive. I've read all the books I could find about hybrids but all stated I was supposed to be a myth and none of it was credible material. I watched as Brennen left me alone in defeat. I was hungry but I didnt want this blood my father rationed out for me. If I drunk it all now, I would have to wait awhile for the next.

"Food will kill you, Nataleigh," my mothers voice rang in my head. she would tell me about the danger of food to vampires when I was younger, saying I was suseptible to a vampires weakness as I am to a werewolves weakness. Truth was, nobody knew. Not even me.

"Good Morning, Ms. LaRue-Bennet, I presume," greeted the secretary of Whitesummit High School, my new place of work.

I smile shyly as I shake the elderly woman's hand.

"Please, Ms. LaRue is fine."

She lead me to a classroom that was already full of rambunctious teenagers. She gave me a sympathetic smile and wished me well before disappearing into the halls. Taking a long, deep breath, I enter my new classroom with my head up. The students quiet down as I walk in and straight to my dest.

A tack? In the chair?

I let out a small giggle as I pick up what I supposed was going to be their prank – or their way of pushing me out of here. I smile to the class.

"You reek," one student in the back yelled. I couldn't help the flinch that racked my body at the abruptness of his tone.

"Can you be quiet, Nicolas. So what, she's human. Everyone beware, a harmless human is going to harm us werewolves, in a town of werewolves," another student mocked as she crossed her arms across her chest. I looked at her wide-eyed. Of course they don't know I'm not human but Im not allowed to release that information about myself to anyone on Mitchell territory. Let's not forget she broke a law amongst all supernatural being.

Do not bring attention to our kind.

"Jullie, you idiot! Alpha Marc is going to punish us! you just outed us!" another student panicked.

Punish? Alpha Marc? They don't mean "Bringer of Death" Alpha Marc? I got to get ahold of this and fast.

"I won't tell if you don't," I said as they were arguing back and forth. They looked at me as if I grew a second head. But I pressed on, "I'm pretty sure wolves are a work of fiction. This is English 4 after all. We have a segment all on fiction."

I could sense that eased tension that had built up between the students and began my fist lesson, an ice breaker to get to know the students and where they left off with the previous teacher. The class was engaged before the bell rung, signaling the end of the period. Meaning I prepare for the next class as the students leave.

I was writing on the whiteboard when an intense headache broken free rein in my skull. I crouched grasping my head tightly as a groan left my lungs. The intense hunger I started to feel hit me like a truck and the smell of fresh blood raked my nostrils. Someone in the halls were injured. Given that my father was rationing my blood bags, I had to make a haste, get out of here before I lost control and killed an innocent teenager and accidentally incite a war on Michell territory.

As soon as the door to my classroom opened, I sped out of there. One thing I had wolves didn't was speed. At this moment, I didn't care who saw me. It was safer for me to use my abilities than to feed on a teenager out of pure hunger. I had to get blood and fast. I had to beg my father for more blood rations or I wasn't going to make it. The wind whipped through my hair pulling my thick curls out of it's messy bun. As I reached the front of my fathers home, Junior stood guard of the door, staring daggers at me and hands clenched into fists at his sides. Something happened and I am in trouble.

"What did you do," Angel Jr. boomed as I came to a complete stop. The hunger was getting worse. The longer we stood here, I could see the vein in his neck pulse, my mouth watering. He seems to catch on because he covers his neck with his hand. I look up to his eyes and see shock for a second before he hardened his expression once again.

"I-I need more rations, I need to speak with Dad," I stuttered out and I slowly walked past him, avoiding any touch. He tried to grab me to stop me but I shrieked away, startling those near by. I needed to see our father. I can't let him stop me. I tried to brush pass him but he was stronger than I was. Pulling me by the base of my scalp, he dragged me to the basement, throwing me down the stairs, locking me in. I couldn't breathe. The hunger was too much. All I could feel was pain in my stomach and a burning sensation on the back of my head where Angel grabbed me.

The basement doorslammed open and both Junior and Brennen stormed in with two bags of donated blood. Just great, I lose control and my father is going to punish me for it. Brennen passed the blood with shaky hands and I took it, gratefully. He let out a hoarse sigh as I downed the blood bags. I could tell he was nervous. This was new. I never felt this hunger before. I looked at my brothers in realization, what's going to happen to me if I can't control the thirst?

"I'm dead," I whispered to myself.

"Nat–" Brennen started but was soon cut off by the sound of foot steps on the wooden stairs leading up to the main hall. We all turn and there my father stood, face red from anger. My palms began to sweat as I stood there trying not to shake from my fear of him and what'll happen to me. Angel Jr. walked to my fathers side and crossed his arms over his chest.

I'm fucked...