Freya

Part 1

When you're an outcast, life can be a pain. But when you're an outcast and a hybrid, life is a bitch. So what does any other teenager do when her pack doesn't accept her?

Well, nothing really. There's nothing to be done.

Which is why I never say anything back to them. What good would it do if I told them off? If I were to say something back it wouldn't do anything but encourage them to continue.

"Skank."

"Bitch."

"Whore."

But then again, a little wave of my hand could send them flying across the parking lot. I looked back at the guy who seemed to make it a habit of insulting me. Contrary to most people's beliefs, alphas are not always good. Certainly not this one at least. He isn't alpha just yet, I reminded myself. I don't think the pack will see any progress with this one as their leader. I sympathized for my pack; looks like they're going to need someones sympathy if this was what their future looked like, I thought as I stared at the young male who was scheduled to assume the tittle of alpha. 

The only thing that pulled me through high school―

"Shut that trap of yours before I charm it shut, asshole."

"Oh, no keep talking. I want to see the look on his face when he can't open his mouth."

―were my two best friends.

There stood my saviours, Eric and Charlie.

I chuckled quietly, "Guys."

"Hold on, Freya. We're putting the dog down," Charlie replied, holding her hand out to silence me.

Of course, none of us would actually do anything. There was a treaty between the werewolves and the witches, one where neither side was allowed to physically hurt the other. But that didn't mean that the witches couldn't mumble a tiny spell to explode a certain werewolf's chemistry assignment.

"Watch your place, freaks," Dylan― my future alpha― spat back at my friends.

"Sorry sir, I apologize on behalf of my friends. I'm sure that they didn't mean what they said," I cut in. I was afraid that one day Eric and Charlie's mouths were going to get them in trouble.

"Damn straight they didn't."

With a bow of my head, I looped my hands through Eric and Charlie's and began to make my way to the school's entrance.

"Oh and don't forget to do my laundry," Dylan paused for a moment, "Witch."

"Yes, sir."

Was that meant to be an insult? I took pride in my mother's side. I liked to think that each supernatural part of me were a piece of my parents. The wolf from my father, and the witch from my mother. As we made our way to the senior lockers, Eric and Charlie began giving me another lecture.

"You have the power to kill this entire worthless pack. And even though they treat you like shit, you still don't do anything!" Eric fumed. He was so easily triggered in these situations.

"They're my pack," I replied like I always did. When you belong to a pack, you belong to a family. And all families have their up's and down's. Mine simply had a few more than the typical family.

"But you also belong to a witch clan," Charlie stepped in.

"I do. What's your point?" I countered.

"You could come live with the witch clan. You know you're always welcome there."

"I know, and if I go I lose all ties to my pack. I just can't do that. You know this."

The truth is, I sometimes reach a point when I think about going there; living in the clan house. Occasionally it gets so bad that I nearly start packing. But that's about where I stop.