The Tribrid

**Katherine** My sister and I sat by the fireplace, listening intently as Grandpa told us stories about the past. His voice carried the weight of history, wrapping around us like a warm, comforting blanket. "Back in the day, hybrids were considered dangerous and were killed on sight," Grandpa said, his tone grave as he looked between Emily and me. "Papi, what's a hybrid?" Emily asked, voicing the same question that had been lingering in my mind. *"Well,"* he began, leaning back in his chair, *"Hybrids are people with two types of supernatural blood running through their veins—like a vampire and a werewolf, a werewolf and a witch, or even a witch and a vampire."* His words sent a shiver down my spine. *"They were said to be powerful troublemakers, nearly impossible to kill. So, the Supernatural Council declared a law—any hybrid, whether born or turned, had to be eliminated immediately."* My breath hitched. *"When born? You mean... they would kill a baby?"* I asked, crawling onto his lap beside Emily, absentmindedly playing with his silver hair. *"Yes, little Katrina."* I winced. I hated that name. It made me feel like I belonged to a different era, one far removed from my own. But I let Grandpa call me that because, in return, Emily and I got to call him *Papi*, a nickname he despised. *"What made hybrids?"* I asked, curiosity bubbling inside me. *"For vampire-werewolf hybrids, they had to be turned,"* he explained. *"Some special vampires have blood that can transform a werewolf into a hybrid. As for the others, hybrids are naturally born when two different kinds of supernaturals have children—like a werewolf and a witch."* Emily tilted her head. *"But what about vampire-werewolf hybrids? Can’t they be born?"* Grandpa chuckled. *"No, princess. Vampires can't have children."* Emily frowned in confusion. *"But you and Grandma had Mommy."* I stilled. *She has a point…* If Grandpa was a vampire and Grandma a werewolf, how did they have Mom? Was it because he was an Original? One of the first vampires ever turned? Grandpa simply smiled. *"Yes, your grandma and I had a miracle."* Emily and I exchanged a shocked glance. *"So… Mommy is a hybrid?"* we blurted out in unison. How dare she not tell us? Grandpa chuckled, shaking his head. *"You two didn’t even let me finish before ambushing me with questions! You’re supposed to be five and eight, not little interrogators."* We both looked down sheepishly. *"Continue, Papi,"* I urged. He sighed playfully. *"As I was saying, hybrids were once hunted. But over time, people realized how unfair it was to punish couples who weren’t of the same kind. So, the most powerful witches—"* *"The Five?"* I interrupted, eyes wide with excitement. Grandpa feigned annoyance, and I quickly raised my hands in surrender. *"Yes, The Five,"* he confirmed. *"They found a way to bind one part of a hybrid’s nature, making them only one thing. They sealed away the weaker part, allowing only the dominant gene to manifest."* That made sense. *"So, in Mommy’s case, her werewolf gene was dominant,"* I mumbled, more to myself than anyone else. But another question nagged at me. *"Grandpa, why do vampires and werewolves hate each other?"* He smiled knowingly. *"You are one curious little thing, aren’t you?"* He leaned forward. *"A long time ago, a witch fell in love with a werewolf. But fate had other plans. The werewolf was fated to a vampire. When he told the witch, she was furious. She begged him to reject his mate, but he refused. Blinded by rage and jealousy, she used the power of a blood moon to cast a curse—one that would ensure eternal hatred between vampires and werewolves. However, for some reason, the curse didn’t work on us Originals."* That explained how Grandpa and Grandma managed to be together. Emily yawned, snuggling into Grandpa’s chest. *"I think that’s enough stories for tonight,"* he said, lifting us effortlessly into his arms. He carried us to our room and tucked us into bed, kissing our foreheads. *"Goodnight, my loves."* *"Goodnight, Papi,"* we murmured sleepily as he turned off the lights and left. I lay there, staring at the ceiling. *"So, if they never discovered binding, Mommy would have been killed,"* Emily whispered. *"Go to sleep, Emily,"* I said, turning onto my side. *"For all we know, Papi made that story up. You can’t trust everything he says."* But sleep didn’t come. I tossed and turned, my mind restless. Then I heard it—whispers. As a werewolf, I had enhanced senses: hearing, smell, and strength. These abilities usually surfaced around age eleven, but for some reason, mine had appeared when I was eight. I hadn’t told anyone. They already thought I was a freak because I healed faster than the average Alpha. I focused on the hushed voices. *"What do you mean you can't help her? You're the strongest witch we know—apart from The Five!"* My mother’s voice was sharp, urgent. *"I'm sorry, Luna,"* an unfamiliar woman replied. *"But all her genes are dominant. We can't bind her."* My breath caught in my throat. *"And how the hell does she have witch blood in her?!"* Mom demanded. *"Calm down, Ciara. You'll wake the kids,"* my father soothed. Who were they talking about? I tiptoed toward the door, pressing my ear against the wood. *"How does she have witch blood in her?"* Mom asked again, this time quieter, more controlled. *"I was a witch before we were turned,"* Grandpa admitted. I froze. *What?!* *"Dad, you never told me that,"* Mom said, her voice laced with shock. *"I didn't think it was necessary,"* he replied. *"When my siblings and I were banished from our village, we were left for dead. One night, under a blood moon, we helped an old woman gather firewood. She couldn’t give us food or shelter, but she offered another way to survive—by giving up our magic. She was a siphoner witch. She drained our powers and used them to turn us into vampires. I never thought the witch blood would remain in my system. That was a thousand years ago."* A heavy silence followed. Then my father’s voice. *"Nina, is there anything we can do?"* *"I'm sorry, Alpha. But your daughter is what we call a Tribrid. She cannot be killed, nor can she be bound. The only thing I can do is teach her everything I know about being a witch. But we must ensure the Supernatural Council never finds out about her. If they do, they will either kill her or lock her away."* My blood ran cold. *"Wait… daughter?"* My heart pounded. *It's either me or Emily.* *"How old is she?"* Nina asked. *"She's eight,"* Dad answered. I swore my heart stopped. They were talking about *me.* *"Then we must begin her training immediately, she only has until eighteen!"* Nina declared. *"Why eighteen?"* I asked, unable to stop myself from speaking. The door swung open. I lost my balance and fell flat on my butt. *"Ouch,"* I whimpered, looking up. Ten pairs of eyes stared down at me. I hadn’t even noticed Grandma was there. I swallowed hard. *"Hi."* A woman stepped forward. She didn’t look older than twenty-five. *This is the powerful witch my mother spoke of?* She smirked. *"I’m older than I look, sweetheart."* I gulped. *"I assume you heard everything?"* Nina asked. I nodded. *"Good. Because from this moment on, I will be your teacher… until you turn eighteen."* *"Why eighteen?"* I repeated. Her expression softened. *"Because, sweetheart… when you turn eighteen, you’ll have to leave home."*