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The day I lost my life

There are three kinds of people in a scary or stressful situation. The kind who freeze up and don't know what to do. The people who face it head-on, and who are ready to give everything to save themselves. And then there's me, the person who runs for the hills, as I discovered at the age of sixteen.

In the years after the uprising of the supernatural, a lot of this had to change, both in society and in my household.

While me and my sister were being taught at our human-only school about the supernatural and what we were required to do when encountering one. Our parents were teaching us self-defense, subtle manipulation, and anything they could for if and when we encountered a not-so-happy supernatural.

As both of my parents were human they were required by law (one of the many new ones) to go to a course explaining everything they needed to know about supernaturals, except their weaknesses, because we were now required to be the small and meek submissive human servants to every supernatural.

We lived in wolf territory. About half of the country was divided into wolf shifter territory because of its forests and large expanse of country, and the other half was given to the vampire clans. When we heard that we thought it meant that we would only have to deal with the wolves, unfortunately, other shifters and supernatural were welcome thanks to the treaties they made when taking over most of the world.

Mostly everything had remained the same as before the supernatural came out of hiding, only now every human feared walking out of their own homes. Especially as many wolves have been mating with humans. They claim that it's not their choice, that some kind of moon goddess picks their mates, and that they have no control or choice in the matter of who they are mates to. But all humans know that that's only a half-truth. If they really loved and cared about their 'mates' they wouldn't threaten them with the deaths of their family for not cooperating with their own kidnapping and rape.

But we have no power to do anything. The small resistance groups popping up were no help, in fact, they did more damage than good. But we still respected them for trying. Better than the humans who have been sucking up to the supernatural in hopes of regaining the power they lost.

The cafe that I worked in was never busy, except for on Saturdays, which it just so happened to be. I was doing my usual thing, running around delivering food, and making coffee and tea for the customers. We mostly had human patrons, but the occasional supernatural would stop by on their way to or from their jobs.

I had been behind the counter making coffee for at least ten minutes after my lunch break when he walked in. At least a few years older than me, possibly still in high school though it was hard to tell with wolves. If he told me he was at university I would defiantly have believed him

It was so much easier to tell wolves from humans now that we could spot the signs. Wolves always had good posture, ninety percent of the time they were muscular, and they looked down on everyone and everything. But it was best seen in the light, one look of their eyes and it was clear, all wolves had slightly bright eyes, unnaturally so. Not enough that you could notice by a glance, not if you weren't trained.

My parents had trained me. They had learned everything they could to teach me and my sister and keep us safe.

Not that it's done us much good.

This particular wolf was wearing casual clothes. Black jeans, a grey T-shirt, and a light blue cap. Similar to the light green one I was made to wear as part of our uniform. I would have found him extremely attractive if it weren't for the glint in his eyes outing him as a wolf. Dark slightly curled hair, dark eyes, olive skin, and a smile to take your breath away. Which it did, out of fear at the sight of his teeth.

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