Awakening A New Generation of Hunters

Zoe's P.O.V

"Nena, I am going to be late for my finals."

I brushed my kinky curls as Nena lowered herself into the dining chair, sliding my breakfast toward me. She sat there, silently stirring her bowl of cereal.

"Hmm, Nena, what's wrong?"

Calling her Nena was a force of habit. I glanced into her walnut-coloured eyes, which always seemed to shift to green when something moved her deeply—like they were now. Her face softened, her eyes welled with tears, and her fingers gently cupped my cheek. 

"I'm not ready for you to grow up," she said, her voice trembling. 

A tear slipped down her cheek, and I quickly wiped it away. I hated seeing her in pain. She had always been strong, confident, and endlessly inspiring. 

"Don't cry," I whispered. "You taught me everything I need to know to survive in a world filled with darkness. I know how to protect myself. Don't worry, Ma—I'm stronger than I used to be." 

Nena had once told me the story of my adoptive parents, Mary and Bernard, who had desperately wanted a child but couldn't have one due to my mother's reproductive issues. To protect me, the woman I affectionately called Nena had given me up. She wanted me to have a normal life, free from the burden of fear and the unknown. 

For three years, Nena had taught me the ways of witches, and it had been the most magical experience of my life. It had taken me a while to understand her decision, but in time, I came to appreciate it. The thought of what could have happened to me otherwise—of being drained of my power—still sent shivers down my spine. 

My magic was different from most witches. While they relied on ancestral power, mine came from everything around me—earth, air, fire, water. My awakening would reveal the full extent of my abilities one day. 

"I know," she said softly, her expression full of pride. "I'm just so proud of you." 

Finally, at eighteen, I was one exam away from independence, one step closer to leaving for college in a few months. It felt like the beginning of a new chapter—the highlight of my life. More than anything, I wanted to make Nena, my birth mother, proud. As I held her hand, my own tears began to fall. 

"One story ends today, and another begins tomorrow," she said, quoting one of her lessons. "Witches are special. Even if we lose our physical form, our energy will always be intertwined. You will always be protected." 

I kissed her fingers, smiling through my tears as I remembered how she had helped me connect with other witches—and even the Originals. I wiped her tears away as she pasted on a brave smile, pulling me into a warm hug. Her embrace always made me feel safe. 

"You've got to get going," she said, her voice steadying. "Taylor will be here any minute." 

Stuffing my mouth with delicious calories, I grabbed an apple and kissed her cheek. Right on cue, Taylor showed up—a lanky jock with his signature blue truck. 

"Mom, I love you," I called out, waving. "I'll see you tomorrow morning." 

Ignoring her warning look, I kissed her goodbye. Tonight, the final-year students were invited to the biggest party of the year—a celebration marking the end of the grueling academic journey. 

.

"Your silence makes me wonder where your mind roams this time," Taylor said, tapping on the steering wheel as he glanced at me.

"I'm just going to miss protecting my girl, that's all," he admitted, his dark eyes soft but serious.

Taylor and I had met years ago, long before my adoptive parents passed away—before I had even turned fourteen.

Wandering through the woods, I felt oddly safe, even though I knew predators could be lurking nearby. My perception of danger back then was naïve at best. I felt like Little Red Riding Hood, except I wasn't carrying a basket full of treats—just a book I wanted to read and a bottle of water. 

Out of nowhere, a fox appeared, its sharp claws and determined gaze fixated on me. Startled, I dropped everything and scrambled up the nearest tree. The fox clawed at the ground beneath me, frustrated that I had nothing it wanted. Before I could figure out what to do, a dark brown wolf emerged, growling ferociously as it attacked the fox. The two animals fought viciously, each determined to win. I was frozen, terrified, and unsure who posed the bigger threat—one was clearly a predator, but the other? I wasn't sure.

The wolf eventually scared off the fox. Instead of leaving, it sat down beneath the tree, staring up at me. It wasn't threatening, just… watching. Minutes passed—maybe even hours—before I finally climbed down as quietly as I could. Tiptoeing away, I foolishly made the mistake of glancing back. The wolf was gone—or so I thought. 

As I turned back to the path, I saw it walking beside me, calm but curious. I shrieked and stumbled back, startling it. The wolf winced and let out a soft whine, almost like an apology. That was the day I met Taylor's wolf.

.

At school, Taylor had been my best friend, though I hadn't realized there was more to him until three years ago. He was like the brother I had always wanted but never had. His presence in my life felt like a gift from magic itself.

"We're not going to opposite sides of the world, remember? It's us forever," he reassured me, his voice steady and full of warmth.

Parking the car, we stepped out together, both ready to say goodbye to the dreaded biology textbook and, hopefully, hello to brighter beginnings. I silently prayed I could keep my promise to him. This was the day a witch and a werewolf vowed to remain friends forever.

It wasn't a small miracle either, given the bitter history between our kinds. Long ago, dark witches had hunted werewolves, skinning them alive to imbue humans and other supernatural beings with stolen power. The scars of that history ran deep, yet here we were, proving that old grudges could be overcome.

"Forever," I said, holding his hand as my energy swirled between us, a visible sign of my emotions.

A group of other students suddenly surrounded us, pulling Taylor into a whirlwind of mundane conversations. Being the quarterback of the football team meant cheerleaders and rich, arrogant kids naturally gravitated toward him. I stepped back, watching him get pulled into their world, knowing that no matter what, ours would always remain connected.