The Moon Goddess Daughter (The Hybrid)

Blair’s POV The annoying alarm clock jolted me awake, rudely pulling me out of my cozy dream world into the harsh reality of a new day. My eyes, still half-closed, struggled to adjust to the sudden interruption. A groan escaped my lips as I reluctantly accepted that morning had arrived. I reached out to silence the relentless beeping, but those buttons seemed to be playing hide-and-seek, making me even more frustrated. Eventually, I gave up and just yanked the cord from the wall, putting an end to the noisy ordeal. I tossed the alarm clock aside, now a symbol of my morning annoyance. Great, just another day to deal with in this boring life. I’m Blair Salvatore. I’m a werewolf, and every single day, that fact is a painful reminder. In just two days, I’ll be turning sixteen, a day when every werewolf is supposed to find their mate.But I have no interest in finding my mate, let alone having them join this pack, which has been nothing but cruel to me. The pack I belong to is the Blood Moon Pack, the second most powerful pack in the United States. Unfortunately, they’re also the source of all my pain and suffering. A low growl followed by a knock on my bedroom door broke the calm I had for a moment. I instantly recognized Cindy, a toxic mix of malice and spite. Her voice was dripping with venom as she summoned me downstairs, making me feel small and humiliated. Resigned to my fate, I let out a heavy sigh and reluctantly made my way downstairs. In the pack’s hierarchy, I was nothing more than a glorified servant, a pawn in their game. I had to prepare breakfast for the very people who looked down on me. The kitchen was tense as I moved around, making pancakes, frying bacon, and cracking eggs. The clinking of utensils was the only sound in the room as I orchestrated this culinary performance. The pack members started to trickle in, a constant reminder of my lowly status. I watched in silence as they ate, feeling like a ghost in my own story, observing them devour the food I had prepared. For a moment, the absence of insults and taunts felt like a small relief, but I knew it wouldn’t last. And then, like clockwork, Blake walked in, a powerful presence that shifted the dynamic in the room. He exuded authority, but it was tainted with cruelty. Nicole was by his side, another ally in their campaign of cruelty. Blake’s gaze locked onto me, sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes held a dangerous edge that made me feel exposed and vulnerable. He took pleasure in tormenting me, orchestrating my pain with chilling precision. But what they didn’t know, what no one knew, was that the pain was temporary. My werewolf heritage gave me the gift of rapid healing, a secret I guarded closely. Beneath their disdainful glares, I held a hidden truth – I wasn’t just any werewolf. I was a hybrid, a mix of power that defied their expectations. I had learned this in a vivid dream, a visitation from the Moon Goddess herself. At first, I doubted if it was really meant for me, but her assurances gradually erased my skepticism. In that dream, she gave me a unique power – the ability to hide my true self and appear completely human. This magical disguise shielded me from prying eyes, allowing me to live a normal life. I had woven a lie, a story about the werewolf gene skipping my generation, and the pack had bought it. Lost in thought, I barely registered the pack members’ movements as they left the kitchen. When I snapped back to reality, I was alone, surrounded by the remnants of breakfast. With a sigh, I cleaned up quickly, hiding any evidence of my morning ritual. As I stepped out into the sunlight, the transition from the dim kitchen to the bright morning was almost blinding. I hurried to school, but an unwelcome surprise awaited me – a push that threatened to knock me over. I resisted the urge to steady myself, as it would reveal my hidden power. So, I fell to the ground, a pawn in their cruel game. “Watch it, loser,” the familiar voice sneered, each word like a verbal dagger. “Slut!” Another voice joined in, intensifying their cruelty. I tried to speak up, but their nasty insults and mocking laughter drowned out what I had to say. They left, leaving a sour taste of embarrassment in my mouth as they walked away. Before continuing my way to school, I got back up, brushed off my outfit, and quietly checked to be sure no one had seen the embarrassing episode. The school loomed ahead, a place of both learning and torment. I slipped into math class just in time, my heart racing as the teacher scolded me for being late. During the lesson, I endured the barrage of paper projectiles thrown by my classmates, a constant reminder of their cruelty. Even the teacher seemed hostile, tapping his fingers impatiently on the chalkboard. When the bell finally rang, I felt a temporary sense of relief, free from the oppressive atmosphere. But that freedom was short-lived, as Jack, one of my tormentors, approached. He deliberately pushed my books off the table. I held onto the edge of the table, fighting back the humiliation. “Watch where you’re going, nerd,” Jack taunted, his laughter joined by his friends. I was left there, picking up my scattered books. With a weary sigh, I collected my books, preparing myself for whatever challenges lay ahead. Just another day in the life of Blair Salvatore, the outsider, the pawn of destiny in a world where hidden power lurked beneath the surface, unnoticed by all.