Jérémy slammed the car door shut. Once again, he’d had an argument with his mother. Throwing his backpack over his shoulders, he stormed toward the entrance of the high school. Lately, everything had been going wrong; he felt terrible. And it was starting again. He had to lean against one of the pillars in the hall, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he took deep breaths to fend off the sudden, violent headache that overwhelmed him. Images flashed through his mind—a sense of urgency, anxiety. He didn’t want to dwell on it, but he feared madness, schizophrenia.

After about a minute, the intensity of the sensations faded, leaving behind a vague discomfort. He made his way to the workshops where he had class.


Aveline was beginning to panic. She had spent a lot of time observing those two, as they matched the profile of hybrids: taller than average, strong, and prone to violence. She still needed to determine if they exhibited a special gift: visions of the future, speed, rapid healing—anything beyond what was ordinary for a human, something to confirm her analysis.

For that, she needed to observe, to engage. But this time, she’d been caught off guard. Those two idiots had noticed her watching and thought they’d found an opportunity. They had grabbed her by surprise, thrown her against the wall behind the workshop where no one could see them. She was cornered—one on her right, the other on her left—both leaning toward her with a predatory gleam. She knew what they wanted, and she couldn’t fight back. She had been careless. The first brute leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head sharply to avoid the contact. Bad idea.

— Ah! You’re resisting? We thought you’d be easier, little redhead.

— Let go of me, Aveline growled.

— Kevin, hold her!

The second guy grabbed one of her wrists with absurd strength, spun her around, and pinned her other hand. There was no way she could break free.

She started to scream…


Jérémy’s blood boiled. He rushed toward the sound of the cry and immediately understood the situation. He had seen it briefly in his mind just moments earlier. He didn’t waste time analyzing the how or why. He acted.

— Hey! Leave her alone!

He wasn’t afraid. He even felt powerful, like he belonged in this moment. Nothing could have stopped him from stepping in.

— What, you want in on the fun? the brute sneered.

— I said, let her go! His voice rumbled like a growling dog preparing to attack.

— Or what?

The brute turned to his friend.
— Hold her. I’ll take care of this.

A 100-kilogram mass charged toward Jérémy. He stayed calm. He could anticipate. He had seen this scene before. Knowing what the other would do, he bent his knees slightly, braced his muscles, and stood ready. When his opponent reached him, Jérémy grabbed him effortlessly and hurled him over his head. The landing was brutal. Out cold on the first hit.

He then turned to Kevin, who looked horrified. Kevin released his captive and tried to run. Jérémy caught him, grabbing the collar of his hoodie and lifting him 20 centimeters off the ground, scaring the life out of him.

— Don’t you ever attack someone weaker than you again. That wasn’t a suggestion—it was an order. His voice resonated with authority. The guy submitted.

Jérémy forced himself not to hit the guy. Instead, he tossed him to the ground and, struggling to contain his anger, returned to the red-haired girl. She was now lying on the ground, immobile, conscious but shocked. Understandably so. Her pale face and tears immediately calmed him.

— Come on, he said. I’ll take you to the nurse’s office.

He lifted her gently. Passing by the brute still sprawled on the ground, he once again resisted the urge to kick him while he was down. You don’t hit someone who’s already beaten.


Aveline woke up, disoriented. Her wrist hurt, and she was thirsty. She recognized the nurse’s office—the plasticky mattress, the smell of antiseptics, the silence.

Sitting up, she replayed the events in her mind. Yes, she’d been shaken—but not just by the attack. No, what had truly stunned her, almost paralyzed her, was the power of the guy who had saved her. Did he know he had the gift to make people bend to his will? She’d just found her hybrid, and damn, he was terrifying.

He checked all the boxes: incredible strength, athletic physique, devilish good looks. But he also had an aura he seemed completely unaware of. And then, there were his eyes—they had changed color. A process non-existent in humans but well-known among fae. They had turned black.

Now, she just had to find him again, convince him without angering him, and bring him home. The week promised to be intense.


Fourth-floor corridor, left wing. Jérémy was heading to the computer lab to meet his group for practical work. The door to the photo lab opened, and a red-haired figure grabbed his arm, pulling him into the room and quickly shutting the door behind him. Surprised, he didn’t have time to react.

— What the…?

— I need to talk to you.

In front of him stood the girl he’d helped on Monday. Of average height, with long red hair and big green eyes, he now remembered how pretty she was. Slightly flustered, he muttered:

— What do you want?

She sighed and began to speak.

— It’s important…

Jérémy cut her off.

— Look, I helped you on Monday because it was the right thing to do. My mom taught me never to hurt a girl, not even with a flower. But that doesn’t mean we’re going to be friends or that you should get any ideas, okay?

Aveline’s eyes widened. Did he really think she was hitting on him? Unbelievable. As if his oversized ego wasn’t enough!

— You’ve got it all wrong, she replied seriously. What I have to tell you is very important and might answer a lot of questions you’ve been asking yourself.

Jérémy narrowed his eyes, studying her. He tilted his head, listening to something inside himself. He felt he should hear her out. There was a strange connection between them, a sense of familiarity. He pulled a stool over and sat astride it.

— I’m listening, but make it quick. I’ve got class.

Aveline explained, starting with what she had observed. This wasn’t her first time making this pitch. She knew where to begin, how to weave her story to persuade someone. But with Jérémy, it didn’t go as planned.

He studied her with his deep midnight-blue eyes, silently observing. She could feel the weight of his magical aura pressing on her. It unsettled her. He seemed powerful for a hybrid. She’d have to consult the book of bloodlines. Such a combination of traits was unusual.

Finally, Jérémy stood up and asked:

— What concrete proof do you have? How do I know you’re not part of some cult trying to recruit lost kids? How do I know you’re not just crazy? Come back when you can prove what you’re saying.

She didn’t try to stop him. She would need more information and time to convince him.


That night, Jérémy couldn’t sleep. The conversation with Aveline had troubled him more than he let on. Partly because she was beautiful—very beautiful—but mostly because something magnetic radiated from her.

She knew about his peculiarities, about what he was going through. She’d given him an explanation—he just didn’t want to believe it. He’d needed time to process, hence his rejection. Yet, during her story, his mind had been flooded with images of his mother, of a man with long dark hair and eyes as blue and black as his own. His father?

Unable to hold back any longer, he gathered his courage. Sitting at her desk as usual, his mother didn’t hear him approach and jumped when he spoke.

— Oh! You scared me! Can’t sleep?

— Can we talk, Mom?

His voice was deep, steady. She understood it was important and complied.

— What’s wrong? Sit down.

— No, I’d rather stand.

It took him time, but he managed to ask calmly about his father’s identity. Once again, however, he got no answer. It wasn’t so much her expression that confirmed the subject was off-limits forever, but her silence.

And in the reflection of the fireplace mirror, he saw his eyes glowing—completely black.


Aveline closed the book of bloodlines. She’d suspected it, and now she had confirmation in front of her. Jérémy belonged to the lineage of the Dark Lord.

Her mission had changed: she had to kill him.

Rose Lorang