The Lycan Twins and the Phoenix Warrior

“Mommy, mommy!” I caught a butterfly and wanted to show it to my mom. I loved to see them fly, I always imagined it was me, completely and utterly free. I hate my village. They don’t like us, not one bit, but they treat us fairly because we are strong. “A butterfly, and it is quite unique, you see,” my mom pointed out. I looked at the butterfly on my index finger. I didn’t see anything different about her. “It looks the same to me,” I mumbled as I puffed my cheeks. What was my mom talking about? I wondered. My mom chuckled as she extended her finger to call for the butterfly. “Look,” she said as the small insect fluttered its wings. You have red on one side and blue on the other. This is indeed a unique butterfly. They are not like that.” I tilted my head. I’ve seen countless of these butterflies. “They are all over the place, Mommy. What do you mean?” My mom chuckled again, and the butterfly flew away. My face instantly fell. I wished I could fly away, just like it did. “You’ll understand one day, baby,” she cooed, but all I did was frown. I was no longer a baby, and I hated it when she called me that. The other kids thought I was weak because of my mother’s nickname. “Oh, stop with the grown, Astrid,” my mom said. “You’ll always be my baby.” I rolled my eyes. She always replied that. “I’m not a baby,” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest. My mom laughed once more. She grabbed my hand and walked me back home. That was the only place I felt safe. We had a small cottage just outside the village. It was for the best; that way, people didn’t bother us much. “Why must we return here?” I whined. I liked our cottage; it was beautiful and cozy. It wasn’t big, grand, or anything similar—quite the contrary. It was a one-story building with a small garden in the back, a porch where Father loved to read, and two small bedrooms. “Because this is our home, sweetheart. Also, I’m sure your father is worried sick, we’ve been out for a while,” my mother answered softly. I sighed. I didn’t see the point of staying at a place where we weren’t well received. They don’t do anything to us, but indifference sometimes hurts more. Or so I thought. “You know what I mean, Mom,” I replied in a whine. I hated it when she changed the subject. My mom’s smile faltered. “You’ll understand one day, sweetie. You are still too young to understand, but… this is the only place where our kind is safe.” Again, with that excuse. I get it—we are phoenixes, a hunted species—but… why do I get the feeling they want to do the same thing to us? They are only waiting for us to slip, to commit a mistake, and then… they will hunt us. Of that I am sure. I started getting angry. My mom was so naive sometimes. She doesn’t see what I see. “There you are!” my father exclaimed as he came out of the house. I thought I would have to get you; you left almost two hours ago!” My mom chuckled. “I know, dear, but you know how Astrid is,” she said, approaching my father to kiss him. I stuck out my tongue in disgust. “There is a kid here!” I exclaimed. My mom giggled and then turned to look at me once more. “I thought you weren’t a kid anymore.” Damn it, I fell for it again. My father realized what had happened and laughed loudly. “Okay, okay, let’s go inside.” We were all happy, my mom and dad were laughing, but… I knew. The air was different; something was going to happen, and soon. ——————————————————————— “What is she doing here?” Really? This again? I don’t understand why people whisper behind your back like you couldn’t hear them. If you want to talk badly about me, at least say it to my face, but no, they prefer to hide in the shadows and pretend I don’t have supernatural abilities. I can hear everything they say. “I don’t know why the leader still allows her to attend school. I mean… she is a nobody. She could very well start cleaning houses and drop out of school. She is not going to achieve anything,” another girl whispered. I clenched my fists. I’m top of the class, and they still dare say I shouldn’t attend school. One of them started laughing. I didn’t hear what else they said. But I didn’t need to. Their disdain was loud enough. I kept my head down, gripping the strap of my bag until my knuckles turned white. The whispers slithered around me like serpents, venomous and relentless. You don’t belong here. You’re nothing. You’re a monster. I knew what they thought. I wasn’t blind. The way their eyes flickered toward me before darting away, the way they shifted when I passed—like I carried some invisible plague. But I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. So I walked forward, shoulders squared, even as my chest burned with something bitter and raw. The classroom door creaked as I pushed it open. The chatter inside dimmed for just a second—just long enough for me to feel the weight of their stares—before resuming as if I hadn’t entered at all. Ignore them, I told myself. Just get to your seat. But then I saw him. Lars. He was the chief's son and hated my family. I was two years younger, but because of my grades, they made me go up two grades. Lars wasn't always like this; I'm not sure what changed, but one day he started bullying me, and since everyone wanted to be like him, they bullied me as well. He was leaning against my desk, grinning at something one of his friends had said. His golden hair caught the morning light, his stupid, perfect face twisted in amusement. And then he saw me. His smirk didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened. "Well, well," he drawled, pushing off my desk with deliberate slowness. "If it isn’t the little firebird." A few snickers rippled through the room. My jaw tightened. I hated that nickname. Hated it. My father used to call me that, and when they heard, they decided to make fun of me. "Move," I said flatly. Lars tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Or what? You’ll burn me?" The air around me prickled. Heat simmered beneath my skin, begging to be released. No. Not here. Not now. He wanted that, he wanted me to lose control and release the phoenix, but I knew better. I swallowed it down, forcing my voice to stay steady. "I won’t ask again." For a moment, he just stared at me, his blue eyes glinting with something dangerous. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he stepped aside. "Fine, fine. Wouldn’t want to upset the freak," he muttered, just loud enough for everyone to hear. Laughter followed me as I sat down. I clenched my teeth, staring straight ahead. One day, I thought. One day, they’ll regret this. I will leave this place; I will never give them the satisfaction of gaining the power of the Phoenix. The phoenix spirit was wild, and to keep it in check, you had to control your emotions. Not everyone in a family awakens the phoenix. The spirit chooses who it wants to be. Everyone can manifest it in the same family, but once they do, they become erratic and have to be subdued. That was not my case. My mother had her phoenix, and she was one of the greatest warriors to ever exist, until she met my father. After she got pregnant, the spirit decided to leave her body and come into mine. My mother could no longer fight like she used to, and people resented her because they lost their biggest weapon. They are not sure if I have the spirit or not. I haven't let it out, but they suspect. Of course, since I was a kid, they can't do much, but the chief still tries. My mother thinks this is the only safe place for us, but I think that is not true. I believe this is the worst place we could stay. We all belong to an ancient family, the first phoenixes in the world, but as generations passed, less and less people manifested it until only people from my family line possessed it. Of course, everyone hated us for it, but they held their hatred back because they needed us. "Why do you bother her?" I heard a woman ask Lars. I knew her; she had tried to befriend me several times, but I rejected her friendship because I didn't want people to start bullying her. She can have a normal life, so she should stop worrying about me. "Why do you care, Adrineh?" I heard Melissa sneer. Lars and Melissa were the popular couple in school, and she did everything to keep Lars's attention. She bullied whoever Lars bullied, specially girls, and made sure she looked like a polished doll so Lars would keep f*****g her. I don't get it. They are not mates, and they should not be fooling around, but what can I say? I guess Melissa wants to become Lars's wife. We know who our mates are since we are kids, but we can only mark them once we turn eighteen. They might not have the spirit, but they are still supernatural creatures. They are stronger and live longer than a human would; the only thing they would never experience is the power of the phoenix. Adrineh scoffed. "Because I don't like bullying a girl two years younger than us who hasn't done anything," she replied. "She is a freak," Melissa countered with a nasal voice. "You are one to talk," Adrineh snapped, crossing her arms. "At least Astrid doesn’t throw herself at every boy who glances her way." A sharp gasp rippled through the room. Melissa’s face flushed crimson, her perfectly manicured nails digging into her palms. Lars, however, just smirked, clearly enjoying the drama. "You—" Melissa seethed, but before she could finish, the teacher walked in. "Enough," Mr. Voss barked, slamming a heavy book onto his desk. The room fell silent instantly. "Take your seats. Now." Grumbling, Lars sauntered back to his desk, shooting me one last mocking glance before sitting down. Melissa glared daggers at Adrineh before flouncing to her own seat, her skirt swishing dramatically. Adrineh sighed and sat down near the front, casting me a quick, sympathetic look. I ignored it. I didn’t need her pity. The lesson dragged on, but I barely heard a word. My mind was elsewhere—on the way Lars’s eyes had gleamed when he called me firebird, on the way the others had laughed, on the way my skin still burned with the need to unleash the fire simmering beneath it. I clenched my fists under the desk, my nails biting into my palms. Control it. Don’t let them win. But the anger was a living thing, writhing inside me. Then, a folded piece of paper landed on my desk. I blinked, staring at it. Slowly, I unfolded it. "You don’t belong here, freak. Maybe you should burn yourself out of existence." The handwriting was messy, but I recognized it instantly. Melissa. A slow, dangerous heat pulsed in my chest. I exhaled sharply through my nose, crumpling the note in my fist. No. Not now. But then— A spark. A tiny, flickering ember ignited between my fingers, blackening the edges of the paper before it disintegrated into ash. My breath hitched. No one had seen it. No one had noticed. But I had. And for the first time in years, I felt something other than anger. Fear. Because if I couldn’t control it here—in a room full of people who wanted me to lose control— Then what would happen when I really lost my temper? The bell rang, jolting me from my thoughts. As the others filed out, laughing and shoving each other, I stayed frozen in my seat, staring at the ashes on my desk. Then, a shadow fell over me. I looked up. Lars stood there, his grin sharp. "Careful, firebird," he murmured, low enough that only I could hear. "Wouldn’t want you to… explode in front of everyone, would we?" My blood turned to fire. He knew. Somehow, he knew. And the way his eyes gleamed told me one thing: He was just waiting for the moment I’d finally break. He was going to be the one to make me break, and I couldn't allow that.