The Hybrid Series

Outcast.

That’s me.

Making friends is a challenge for me, thanks to my low self-esteem, a result of years of bullying.

I wish I could say it’s just a handful of people who instantly dislike me—but that’s not the case. My mom and I have moved around a lot, usually once a year, sometimes even twice.

This has been our life since I turned thirteen and my wolf emerged. At the first sign of trouble, my mom would whisk me away to a new place.

It’s frustrating, but I know she’s just trying to protect me in the best way she knows how.

I try to keep a low profile. I don’t enjoy drama, but somehow, it always finds me. It wasn’t always like this. I used to be a popular girl with a lot of friends.

But when my wolf came, my scent changed, as it does for every wolf. That’s when the bullying began.

My tormentors—the she-wolves of the pack—tell me I “smell weird.” I don’t know why—but it’s true. My scent is just…different.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t smell bad. I don’t have body odor, and I don’t stink like a skunk. I just smell different from other wolves; this seems to be the reason I’m always a target.

Every pack we move to, it’s the same story. They sniff me, tell me I smell weird, and then start name-calling.

They exclude me from social activities, and then they physically bully me. Which is okay… Well, it’s not, but I’ve lost interest in making friends.

After all, my friends in my first pack turned on me so quickly, why would I want or need friends like that anyway?!

The guys, however, seem to find my scent intriguing. I don’t think I’m unattractive, but I wouldn’t say I’m stunningly beautiful either.

I have long dark-brown hair with reddish-golden highlights that shine when the sun hits just right, deep chestnut eyes, a smattering of freckles over my nose, and full, plump lips.

The fact that guys find me intriguing just makes my attempts at being a lone wolf even harder.

They usually try to sit with me or befriend me, but this just intensifies the bullying from the jealous she-wolves.

I don’t understand why they bother trying to sit with me.

Maybe it’s just pack mentality, trying to keep the pack together at all costs, or maybe they see me as some kind of damsel in distress.

Little do they know it’s their attempts to interact with me that cause my distress.

The first time we moved, Kelsey Richards—my former best friend—decided to escalate the bullying.

She was mad because Sam—her crush—had asked me out… As if I had any control over that.

I was sitting under my favorite tree, reading a book to pass the time and minding my own business. Sam came to sit with me and tried to strike up a conversation.

I gave him short answers and kept my eyes on my book, hoping he would get bored and leave. He didn’t.

He asked me if I would like to grab a bite to eat sometime. It was kind of sweet, but I didn’t want to make my life more complicated than it already was.

I said no. He was a nice guy, but not my type, and I didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to myself. Less attention, less bullying.

That didn’t stop Kelsey from getting upset about it anyway. Kelsey stormed across the field, fury in her eyes, practically foaming at the mouth.

Suddenly, she yelled, “HOW DARE YOU, YOU LITTLE SLUT! Sam is ~mine and you’re trying to steal him from me!”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t want to deal with her drama.

I tried to clarify things. “Kelsey, he asked me if I wanted some food. I said no. I don’t want Sam. He’s all ~yours.”

Obviously, she didn’t listen to a word I said because the next thing I knew she lunged at me, screaming like a banshee. She grabbed a handful of my hair and tried to pull me down to the ground!

She had never touched me before. I was shocked, to say the least. I could feel the anger start to simmer within me, threatening to boil over.

I pulled myself free and stood, glaring at Kelsey, my breathing ragged and heavy.

A scratching sensation started itching from my shoulder blades, threatening to break through the surface.

It felt odd, but I assumed it was my wolf. The sky rumbled and darkened, black clouds I didn’t remember seeing before covering the sky.

Kelsey paled and backed away, tripping over her own feet and landing on her butt. All she could stutter while pointing at me was, “Y-y-your e-eyes!”

A crowd had gathered from the commotion, and everyone’s heads snapped toward me. They stared, wide-eyed, then one by one they shouted, “FREAK!”

I snapped out of my rage almost instantly. I ran toward the school, pushing past the crowd.

I caught a glimpse of myself in a reflection in the school’s windows. My eyes—they were a vibrant green, but they were flickering like flames.

I could also see a faint, green aura covering my entire body, so faint you probably wouldn’t notice at first.

Confusion filled me.

Teachers tried to stop me, but I kept going, head down, ignoring their pleas for me to stop. I ran all the way home that day, which was a good ten miles.

I burst through the front door like a bat out of hell and ran straight into my mom’s embrace.

My mom is the most precious person in my life. We are best friends. In fact, she’s my only friend.

She was always my rock when I was teased. When I was six, kids would make fun of my freckles, saying I had dirt on my face.

But my mom told me they were kisses from angels. So, the next day, I strutted in, boasting about how I was practically the chosen one because I had so many “kisses from angels.”

It worked. Everyone was envious and wanted to be friends with the chosen one. Even now, she does her best to help me through my struggles, though they’re a bit more serious these days…

But she’s a master at the art of distraction.

She looks a lot like me. We both have brown hair and chestnut eyes. The only difference is the fine smile lines around her eyes.

The moment she sat me down, I felt a burden lift.

Everything that had happened poured out between sobs. She cradled my face in her hands and lifted it until our eyes met. Tears streamed down my face.

She looked at me with such love and sympathy. She wiped away my tears with her thumb. She kissed my forehead and told me how much she loves me and how special I am.

She promised me that she would fix this.

Little did I know, my mom’s idea of fixing things was to leave that night and move to another pack. It’s been like this ever since. Every time the bullying gets worse, we pack up and leave.

I think my mom is worried about my emotions spiraling out of control, or maybe she’s just worried I really am some kind of freak.

She tells me my dad was incredibly powerful. He left when I was one. My mom has been pretty heartbroken ever since, but she hides it well.

I try not to mention him because it physically hurts her to think of the mate that left her. I can see the pain in her eyes whenever she’s near other mated couples.

Watching them, seeing what she once had, but no longer does.

Apparently, I have a strong wolf. My mom is the daughter of a powerful beta.

I’m already aware my wolf is different. Not just because of her eyes but because I am faster and stronger than your average wolf—maybe even faster than alphas, maybe even stronger.

Who knows, I’ve never fought one! I hide this well. I deliberately make myself slower and don’t put my full strength into things.

No need to draw more unnecessary attention to myself.

I also learned quite early on that the alpha command has no effect on me. I just pretend it does and purposefully submit to them, even if it does upset my wolf.

I don’t want to draw more attention to my freak status.

When my eyes change color, it’s because my wolf is emerging.

I hear you ask, “Are wolf eyes usually a vibrant green that flickers like flames?”

No, they’re not.

For this reason, I avoid shifting around anyone but my mom.

Her eyes tend to freak people out, considering most wolves’ eyes are brown, hazel, or blue. The more powerful wolves like alphas have silver eyes, and kings have gold eyes in wolf form.

My wolf is named Raven. She’s feisty in ways I could never be.

She’s a large wolf—completely black—which contrasts her vibrant, strange eyes nicely. Her coat is so dark and shiny it practically sparkles under the moonlight.

She’s beautiful, in my opinion, even if her eyes do intimidate others.

I try my best to keep my emotions under control because I don’t want people to see my wolf’s eyes. I’m already odd enough because of my scent. I don’t need another Kelsey Richards episode.

So yeah, that’s me... The freak.

Since that day six years ago, we’ve been on the move a lot. I’m nineteen now and my mom and I are now on to our latest pack: The Dark Wood Pack.

We have been driving for six hours already. The sun is getting warmer, and the forest is getting denser. This makes Raven practically purr in approval.

She can’t wait to dig her claws into the dirt and let off some energy.

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

I blush. “Yeah, I-I’m...just really nervous about this whole new pack thing.”

Mom narrows her eyes at me, clearly suspicious.

“Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’ve got a good feeling about this one!”

I roll my eyes and look out the window.

We sit in silence for the next ten minutes.

“I know what will cheer you up,” Mom blurts as she rummages in her glove box. She pulls out a CD.

She was right. I do feel better.

After another half an hour, Mom starts to get excited and bounces in her seat, tapping the steering wheel with her palm.

“Eek! Look! We are here!” she exclaims.

I sit up in my seat, eyes wide in awe, taking it all in. It’s a large town hidden within the forest.

We drive down a dirt road surrounded by trees. Mom pulls up to where two male wolves stand on guard and rolls her window down.

The wolves approach the car. “Name and reason for visit,” asks the shorter, blond wolf.

“I’m Sasha Dubois, and this is my daughter, Olive Dubois. We are new transfers.”

“ID and documentation, please,” says the larger of the two males.

I cringe inwardly, my cheeks heating up.

Mom hands over our identification and acceptance papers.

The Dark Wood Pack is a community made up of werewolves. They don’t harbor any ill feelings towards humans. In fact, there are humans living among them, but only because they’re mated to werewolves.

The pack leader, Alpha Max, thinks it’s healthier for wolves to grow up in their own community, where they don’t have to hide their true nature.

Mom drives past the guards and onto a dirt road that leads to a town with cobblestone streets. The place has a charming, old-world feel to it. The houses are built from stone and surrounded by white picket fences.

The yards are filled with blooming flowers and beautifully trimmed shrubs. The town is so picturesque, it could easily bag a few awards.

Mom gives my thigh a playful slap. “This is going to be a fresh start for us, Livi!”

I return her smile, though I’m not entirely convinced.