There was a white rose that sat in a long, skinny, blue vase on our fireplace. I would look at it for hours because it was flawless. There weren't any brown spots to be seen. No rips in the petals. It never slouched or bent. It was always perfectly straight. Just the vibrant green and the snow white.

However, in the center of the rose, it was red. Not a rose red, but a deep, thick, red. I touched it once to find the rose was warm. Like it had blood flowing through it, warmth.

"Mom, what's that flower?" To most nine year olds that sounded like a stupid question, but when your mom and dad were both supernatural Hunters, stupid questions were hardly ever stupid.

"That's a Blood Rose," She responded, smiling at it, leaning down to my level. Her blonde hair was more like my siblings' than mine. I got my dad's raven black hair.

I thought back to the rose, realizing that I had heard many terms in my household. Never had I heard Blood Rose.

"Well, what's that?" I continued.

My mom stood straight and grabbed the flower from the vase, the thorns sharp and tipped in red. "A Blood Rose is a token of respect. It's a magical flower that a Hunter only receives once." She handed me the flower, careful not to let either of us get poked by the thorns. "You get it when you go on a Hunt and you stalemate your opponent. There's always one Hunted that you stalemate with. You're neither better nor worse. So, the Hunter and the Hunted exchange blood roses that grow from the ground during bloodshed."

I honestly thought it would be something cooler than that, like it had magical powers or that it could talk back like the flowers from Alice In Wonderland. "That's it?" I asked blandly.

My mom chuckled, her laugh beautiful even though her snarls were not. "No," She smiled. "When the Hunter or Hunted dies eventually, then their opponents rose dies. It signifies a winning. These roses live until your stalemated opponent dies."

So it was a little darker and cooler than I thought it was, definitely not just a peace symbol. "And what happens to the other rose? The one from the person who lived?"

My father ran into the room and pulled me into a large bear hug. He poked and tickled my sides, causing a loud laugh to vibrate through the room. He carried me to my room and plopped me down onto my bed.

"If the Hunter dies then the rose they had is passed on to their youngest child for them to find the Hunted that gave the rose in the first place. Then they see if they can kill what their parent couldn't. I'm not sure how the Hunted do it, but I'm sure it's a similar process," My dad finished and tucked my blankets in. "Now go to sleep, tomorrow is a big day."

"What's happening tomorrow?" I asked.

"Nothing special. But everyday is a big day, never will there be a small one." He winked at me and left my room, shutting off the light, my mother walking out after him.

***

Warm hands picked me up bridal style. I opened my eyes softly and grinned into Dallas's chest. "What are you doing?" I asked. He sniffled and I widened my eyes further. "Are you crying?"

Dallas solemnly nodded and set me on my own two feet. "They're here." His voice quivered and his eyes couldn't find anything to focus on, much less my face. I couldn't tell if it was because he didn't want me to his fear, or if he was just looking for a distraction.

I cocked my head to the side. "Who's here?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer. It was them, the Hunted.

"Vampires." He grabbed a hold of my hand and started to walk me out of my bedroom, moving protectively in front of me.

"Why?" I asked, stopping. It was unnatural for any supernatural creature to attack a family's home.

Werewolves didn't cross pack lines to attack unless wanting a war. Witches didn't go into a vampire's private home to curse them. Fae didn't just wander into the depths of hell to annoy the dead.

"They want to strike a deal," Dallas explained. "Sis, no matter what happens, you don't get scared. Do you hear me? What is fear?" He asked, starting our family motto.

"Fear is weakness," I responded by heart. The darkness in the room seemed to bend around me and caress my skin, blow soft unwanted kisses on my face.

He took a deep breath. "And what are we not?"

"Weak," I answered, standing a little straighter. Darkness was terrifying yes, but my family held more menace than anything that lived in the shadows.

"And why is that?" Fiona, my oldest sibling, walked into the room holding Zachariah, my baby brother, in her arms.

I gulped. The motto in itself was scary, but I guess that was the point. "Because weakness means death," I finished it off. It was a morbid motto, but in this world... that motto could keep you alive.

Fiona was defiant, her eyes watching every flicker of light, every movement we made, unmarred by fear. Dallas seemed shaken up, more-so for us than for himself, but he was still standing tall. Zachariah was only a year old, he didn't know what was happening.

But me? I felt my body shaking, my hands grasping on to Dallas's a little too tightly for me to be deemed as brave. It was just another reason I was out of place with my family.

Everyone had blonde hair, except my dad and me. Everyone was stout and feared, daring and courageous. I... I wasn't. So when I stood with my family I just felt out of place, like a fish out of water.

"C'mon, Everly. Mom and dad are waiting." Fiona turned out the door, leaving no room for me to ask to stay behind.

Dallas and I followed her slowly, his eyes watching every corner and shadow. The further down the dark hallway we moved, the more my heart raced.

When we made it to the living room, Dallas had to pull me to get me to me move. I had locked gazes with a boy with mysterious brown eyes. Boys my age didn't scare me. But this one, did. I knew something was off about him the moment my eyes met his. He was... different. He radiated power, which in itself was out of the ordinary. People under twenty didn't have power yet. And the amount of power he had nearly sent me to the floor.

The next thing that irked me was the fact that four vampires sat in my living room, dressed in lavish clothing.

I scanned the room, not calming until I saw my parents— who had pulled kitchen chairs in front of the TV. They were watching the vampires with adept curiosity, but their eyes held more danger in them than kindness.

My dad's brother, my Uncle Kasparov stood in the kitchen, leaning against the bar that connected to the living room. His daughter, Constance, stood next to him.

"I see you do have four kids. I knew I could hear another heartbeat." One of the vampires smiled wickedly at me, his dirty-blonde hair reflecting the dim light emanating from the kitchen.. "She's young, just like this one." He nodded over to the boy.

My heart was beating too fast, I felt like running from the situation. What were vampires doing here? Who was that boy? I put my fingers on my wrist and closed my eyes, calming my breathing just like my mother taught me how to do.

"Yes. That's my second youngest, Everly," My mother said, popping her knuckles. We both had that habit.

The vampire nodded. "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

"I know." Yes, it was a snarky comment towards a powerful beast. Yes, I was only a nine year old girl who could in no way protect herself from a thousand year old vampire. No, I didn't regret saying it.

The vampire chuckled and set his hand down on the boy's shoulder.

The boy tensed and closed his eyes. Who and what was he?

"Everly, this is Mr. Clay Gold." My father stood up from his chair, taking a deep breath.

The man stuck his hand out for me to shake. Instead of walking over there and shaking his hand, I shook my head. "I don't shake hands with your kind," I spat venomously.

The man smirked and set his hand to his side. "That's quite alright. A young lady must be paranoid these days. Especially pretty ones like you."

"Listen here, Clay, I did not leave Canada and come all the way here, to watch you try and flatter my niece. You better have a good proposition." Uncle Kasparov glared at Clay, already deciding the best way to kill him.

Uncle Kaspar had thick, curly, blonde hair that was never neat. He was tall and built with a lot of muscle, muscle he gained over his 554 years of being a Hunter. You wouldn't know he was that old, however, by his youthful eyes.

He was the oldest in our family, and the most ruthless.

"I do, I do." Clay placed both hands on his son's shoulders. "This is my son. He is the sole heir to my lineage if I was to die."

Uncle Kasparov shrugged. "Why the hell should we care?" Uncle Kas broke the barrier to the "Canadians are always nice" myth. He was not nice. At least, if you weren't a Hunter.

Clay gave his son a pitiful look, running his hands through his hair. "Colin has been marked." Clay said.

Colin. So his name was Colin.

Uncle Kasparov smiled demonically and eyed Clay like a piece of fresh meat. "Looks like you and your lineage are completely screwed. Serves you right. Your lineage has killed far too many Hunters."

When Clay looked up, tears threatened to trickle down his face. His pride wouldn't let him shed them.

"What does being marked mean?" I asked my brother quietly.

Dallas looked down at me, still trying to pay attention to the conversation. "Being marked is when an older supernatural marks an underage. It signifies that the underage, when turned fully into their supernatural, is only allowed to be killed by the person who marked them."

I shrugged. "Isn't that kind of a good thing?" I asked. "Then you only have to worry about one enemy instead of thousands."

Dallas wasn't the one to answer to answer, surprisingly. Clay shut his eyes tightly, hollow breaths coming in and out. "Not if you're a vampire or, as you call us, the Hunted. When an underage Hunter is marked your brother is correct. But when an underage vampire is marked, it means certain death when they turn twenty. Being marked works differently for every species. "

Oh. Colin seemed kind of odd but he didn't deserve to die for it.

"What the fuck do you want us to do about it?" Uncle Kasparov asked, his voice rough and angry. "I thought only witches could put a mark on someone... I'm not helping some stupid Hunted keep their kind alive because they fucked up and messed with the wrong Witch. Witches are one of our only allies... I'm not risking my life or my family's life to help you."

I looked at the boy. He was so young. Too young to be cursed like he was. What if that were me? What if I was in that position? The thought made me shudder.

Clay looked back to the ground. "Please. Please help me. He's just a boy."

My mother sighed, letting kindness into her heart. She was usually the scarier one between her and dad, but she had a soft spot for kids. "What's in it for us if we convince the witches to help you?"

Uncle Kasparov smacked the counter, creating a large dent in it. "Are you serious, Marinda?" He pointed at Clay. "This is a Hunted! We don't help them even if it benefits us! We are not—"

"Shut up, Kasp. Don't talk to my wife that way. I too want to know why they are even trying. They must have a deal worth striking or they wouldn't have even bothered," My father said, glaring at his brother. They were polar opposites, yin and yang, moon and sun. But they also made the perfect fighting duo.

"Please. This is my son. I don't want to resort to the deal I came here with." A young and beautiful woman stepped up. "Please. What would you do if you knew that your daughter or son had a certain doom and the only way to save them was to talk to people you despise?"

Uncle Kasparov scoffed. "We all have certain doom. And we do a lot more than despise you."

"Please," The woman pleaded again, clutching her long black dress in between long, shaking, fingers. "Please find kindness in your heart."

My dad shook his head. "If we were in your position—"

Uncle Kaspar made a loud groaning noise, causing everyone to glare him. "What? We'd never be in their position because we're not idiots."

"Then you'd be in ours and you wouldn't help us," My Dad finished.

The woman cried on her husband's shoulder, the house filled with salty cries and moans from a mother just trying to help her child.

"Then you leave me no choice." Clay picked his wife up. "We have information you need that nobody is willing to give." Clay locked his jaw.

Uncle Kasparov started laughing uncontrollably, a terrible gleam in his blue eyes. "Oh, I see. You're playing a dangerous game here, Gold."

Clay nodded. "That's the only game I play."

I looked up at Dallas. "What information?"

Dallas shrugged, out of the loop too, it seemed. "I don't know little sis."

"We know what starts the War of The Species. My lineage found Leslie's prophesy and—"

"Stop," Uncle Kasparov cut him off. "Why and how did you get Leslie's prophesy? You don't just stumble upon that."

Clay shook his head. "Damn bitch was right. Knowledge comes with a cost. Whether it be time or something else— it always comes with a price." He looked down at Colin, his facial expressions sad and guilty. "This information just came at the cost of my son's future."

Uncle Kasparov blew out a whistle. "So if you die, the secret dies with you? And we have to do the normal thing and actually wait to find out? Holy crap. Whatever will we do now?" He asked in a bored voice. "It's happening hundreds of years from now and by then all the people I care about will be stronger than ever. Plus we'll be a bigger species by then."

"I'll give you a hint. It's happening some time soon." Clay said and the whole room went still. "And I'm only saying this because I feel everyone needs to know. But at the moment, me being the only one who knows is what will get me to save my son's life. And everyone should be prepared. If I'm scared about it, so should you be."

Uncle Kasparov shook his head. "Damn." He muttered.

Constance, who was the same age as my mother more or less, took after her own father; in the sense that everything was a battle and each knife does the job for any occasion. "Dad, let's just let Aunt Marinda and Uncle Terrance work this out."

Uncle Kaspar bit his lip and faced back to his daughter. "He has my interest peaked, Constance."

Constance gaped her mouth open. "What the hell? Dad! You can't be serious! We devote our life to killing these awful things and you're just gonna help keep hundreds alive!"

Uncle Kaspar shrugged, obviously not wanting to be in the position he was in. "I want to know what starts the War of the Species. I'm wondering how he got the Prophesy from Leslie and why his son is marked."

Any immortal that is underage is technically still human. You just can't die unless you take it to extremes. That must be why the boy doesn't die from being marked until he was twenty.

"Okay. How do we help?" My mom asked, smiling slightly. She's always loved helping people.

"You're friends with Leslie, yes? From what I've heard, she owes you a favor. All the witches owe Hunters a single favor." Clay was right. They do. It's sort of a payment for being a Hunter.

My dad cleared his throat, getting all attention on him. "You want one of us to pull a favor on Leslie? I'm guessing Leslie is the one who marked Colin."

Clay bobbed his head up and down. "That'd be correct."

"So she gave you the Prophesy, said it'd come with a price, and now you're paying it. What a hard life?" Constance shot Clay a look of disgust.

Clay smirked, unaffected by her rudeness. "Not exactly. I uh—" he looked dreadfully at his wife. "Might have umm... slept with her on occasions. She's a lovely girl."

My mom looked at Colin's mom. "And you're still with Clay after finding this out?"

She nodded. "I've been with him for hundreds of years. After a while, you get bored. It's understandable."

My mom faced my dad. "I swear on the Salem Witches that if you ever cheat on me, you'll regret it."

My dad gulped dramatically and smiled in fear. "I won't." He murmured out.

"Continue your story, Clay." Uncle Kaspar yawned, bored with the whole situation already. If he wasn't fighting something or someone, he wasn't intrigued with the subject at hand. His daughter was the same way.

"Well, this last time I guess she just... I don't know. But I said some very awful things and one thing led to another, I stole the prophesy. She found it missing a couple days ago and marked Colin."

The whole room fell silent. And then the silence was ruined by Uncle Kasparov's obnoxious laughing.

"You want us, to beg a witch, who's currently pissed, to undo a curse on a man she hates? You're fucked." He laughed some more.

Clay stomped his foot. "Please. I'm begging you. And I have never begged a day in my life."

"Fine. You have my word that we'll try if you tell us the prophesy." I wasn't sure if my dad thought he could actually do it, but he must have really wanted this Prophesy if he was willing to try.

Clay let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"I don't know what Id do if any of my kids were in that position." My dad glanced at all of us.

Clay held out his hand I actually knew what he was wanting. A Promise Bond. It was a bond that, when broken directly, would kill whoever the person was that violated it. My father used the opposite hand of Clay's to align their palms and grip each other's wrists.

"Do you, Terrance Dawn, promise to ask Leslie Towers to remove the mark on Colin Gold within a week after I tell you Leslie Tower's prophesy on how the War of the Species starts?" Clay asked, seriousness all throughout his low voice.

"I do." My father promised.

I giggled to myself. It was like they were getting married.

A deep-red ribbon seeped up from the ground, entwining itself around my father and Clay's hands. They both winced and breathed deeply. Searing pain must have been coursing through them to wince because both were very resilient through pain. The ribbon shined brightly and disappeared faster than it came. In its place, was a dark tattoo of Clay's words on each other's hands. The words glowed lightly before the light went out all together.

"Now. Tell us the prophesy." Uncle Kaspar demanded.

Clay gulped and looked at his son.

He readied himself with a deep breath. "By 2029 A male and female will fall in love against fate and destiny from two different species, causing uproars and eventually a War of the Species. Humans will know of everyone's existence and there will be no allies in this World War. The only species she knows for a fact will not be the cause of it, is a Human and a Hunted considering that that combination isn't frowned upon."

Woah. That was a lot to handle.

"Tell whoever you want. Fuck up that witches plan to keep this a secret." Clay popped his knuckles, the sound loud against the deafening quiet. "She kept the names of the lovers on a separate scroll, however. She's smart."

My dad nodded. "Is that it?" He asked.

"That's it."

Constance was the first one to break the silence. "I'm calling Chleo." She stated and pulled out her phone.

Dallas shook his head. "I don't have anybody to call." Which was funny hearing Dallas say that, because he was very popular at age fifteen.

Constance pursed her lips. "Not entirely true." She said. "Call the other Hunters. I'll give you their numbers."

Dallas cocked his head to the side. "Really?" He asked, perking up.

She nodded. "Yeah, hold on." She was already on the phone with somebody. "You said call if I needed to... I need to talk to you... face to face... sure, bring him... I know I know, stupid Alpha-Beta thing... never took the time to care... whatever, see you in a couple minutes, Chleo." She hung up. "I caught them on the perfect timing. They're in town picking stuff up for the pack." She noticed everyone staring at her. "What?" She asks.

Clay sucked in a breath. "You said "Alpha-Beta" and those words really only have to do with werewolves."

She nodded. "Yeah... Chleo is the Beta of the Sovereign Pack."

Uncle Kas glared at her. "You're on phone-number basis with a werewolf? We're supposed to kill them... not befriend them." He scolded

She kept her head held high. "Werewolves keep to themselves. They don't attack people and really we're only supposed to kill those that threaten to expose us. Werewolves never do. Now they," She pointed to Clay and the other vampires. "Are a different story. We were made to specifically kill them. We don't even have to kill werewolves. We do it out of protection of ourselves and our species alone. Hence the name Hunters," she pointed to herself. "And Hunteds." She gestured to the vampires.

Uncle Kaspar shrugged. "Noted. But to me all Immortals are the same. Dead meat. You can't trust anyone besides other Hunters."

Constance rolled her eyes. "Yeah, noted." Constance was the only one in the world who didn't fear to back talk her father. And Uncle Kaspar only let Constance get away with back talking him. Father-daughter bond.

Someone knocked heavily on the front door and before anyone else could, Constance walked up to it and opened it.

"Can we come in?" Someone asked from the other side of the door.

"Of course, you don't even have to ask." Constance replied politely. Odd, since she was never a very polite person.

"Well, it's rude to enter someone else's territory without a proper heads up." Another voice came, this one lower and deeper.

"Right... werewolf thing." Constance moved to the side.

Two men walked in, and Constance wouldn't of even had to have said anything to know that these two men were werewolves. I could sense which one was the Alpha and which one was the Beta.

The Alpha was tall and built with muscle, his shirt clung tight to his body. His earthly brown eyes looked down on everyone has he stood tall, not bothering to smile or shake anyone's hand. His power was strong enough for me to feel it, strong enough to make me have to hold Dallas's hand a little tighter.

His Beta was near opposite. His skin was dark, matching the color of his curly hair. He walked into the house smiling, filled with enjoyment at seeing Constance. He was tall and muscled like the Alpha, less so, but it was still intimidating. His power felt like his Alpha's, but not as strong.

Constance ran up to the Beta and embraced him in a tight hug.

The Beta caught her and wrapped his arms around her. "Hello, Constance," He said, smiling into her shoulder.

What I had learned a while ago was that Constance, Alpha Arlis Barron, and my cousin Becker had helped take down a really evil man. But that was a long time ago, before even my dad was born. They were close-knit group of friends.

They finally separated and she looked at the Alpha. "Arlis, good to see again."

He simply nodded in return. "Constance." He replied curtly.

While people gave off a normal feeling, being in the same room as a werewolf was rejuvenating. It was like I could do anything. Everything about them screamed nature. They made even the most beautiful of flowers seem lowly. They made the very being of a galaxy seem out of place. They were born to be perfect. Vampires had a certain power to them too, but it was a scary, dark, power. While vampires were cursed by demons, werewolves were blessed by angels.

I started going forward, towards the werewolves, drawn to them, as did Colin, but Dallas grabbed my hand.

Colin bowed to the Alpha and the Beta chuckled.

"Did my son just bow to a werewolf?" Clay asked, clearly disgusted.

"Yeah. You got a problem with that? He obviously has a shred of respect." Alpha Arlis growled inhumanly.

"Yeah, actually, I do," Clay responded.

"Humans and Vampires always were the species that never belonged," Alpha Arlis spat the insult, his eyes ripping Clay to shreds with a single glare.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Clay sounded offended, finally reaching enough insults for one night I supposed.

"Fairies. Werewolves. Witches. Even Hunters to an extent. Were all meant to be on this earth. You and the humans? All you do is mess it up." Arlis said. "Starting wars. Killing innocents. Killing for fun, like it's a sport. You're son bowed and that girl almost did because they sense our connection to earth," Arlis smirked. "That boy is scared of you. You're never a full supernatural or even a full human until you're twenty. They want to be a werewolf, and that was them asking us for our blessing to turn them." Arlis licked his teeth. "And I just might turn him."

Clay was over there in seconds, but Constance was faster.

She slammed Clay against the wall, shaking it. A picture gram close to them fell, shattering on the ground.

He tried to push her off, tried punching her stomach. Although, it must have been like punching a rock. He continued on anyways, getting nowhere. He started slowing down and getting weaker as Constance choked him out.

It wasn't until Chleo put his hand on her shoulder that she stopped. "Calm down, Constance."

She pulled back and Clay dropped to the floor, heaving and wheezing.

"Please tell me, Chleo, that I'm missing a pack meeting over something worth a while," Arlis groaned.

Constance took ten minutes to explain to them the situation and precisely three minutes to explain to them the prophesy.

"So... I don't know what you expect us to do about it. We're werewolves. We only ever truly love our mate and we don't mate to anybody but other werewolves." He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head at her. The corner of his mouth tipped up in confusion.

"Not exactly." Constance said at the same time as Chleo.

"Hybrids. That's a different species." Constance wiped her tired eyes.

Arlis nodded his head a couple times, taking a step back. "Yeah. We'll keep an eye out."

They began to leave, their presence no longer needed.

"I love your shirt by the way." Chleo pointed to me.

I look down and noticed I was wearing my dad's old Pink Floyd shirt. I smiled at him. "Thank you."

He nodded warmly. "You're welcome. You all have a nice night," He looked to everyone smiling, including the vampires. "And don't let the immortals bite," He winked at me.

It was an old goodnight rhyme. Like the humans always said, sleep tight don't let the bed bugs bite. We said, "Have a nice night don't let the immortals bite." It was much more truthful. After all, I'm more likely to be found by an immortal than a bed bug.

"I think we'll go too." Clay stood, and everyone left the room except for my family.

"Screw it, I'm spending the night, brother," Uncle Kaspar announced and walked to one of the spare bedrooms.

Constance walked to Fiona's room with her. They were always close. More like sisters than cousins.

We all stared at the door as it opened back up. Colin came back into the living room and walked up to me. He handed me a single yellow daisy and said, "It'll never die. Kind of like that one," He pointed to my mom's Blood Rose.

He walked out of the house, leaving me with my flower. Everyone stared at me with shocked eyes. I simply smiled at them and put the flower on the fireplace next to my mom's.

"Goodnight." I said and walked towards my bedroom, nobody following behind me.

***

That was the last time I remember having peace in the world. When I was a child. When you're a child everything is so simple, so easy.

And then you grow and you learn... you become educated. It hits you like a bullet train, life is hard.

Now, as I sit as an adult in my torn up home from a lost battle, I have learned that life is a struggle for a reason; a good reason. I just wish things had gone differently all those years ago.

I just wish that when I was younger... that I had done things less like how I was expected and more like how I wanted.

Maybe then... maybe then they would still be alive. People I trusted, people I cared about. People I... loved.