Since the dawn of time, humans have shared the world with a subspecies known as hybrids—people born with animal traits. No one knows how they came to exist, but they never disappeared. Most hybrids ended up domesticated, displayed in zoos, or sold as pets to those wealthy enough to afford them. Others were hunted for sport. Thankfully, being a bat hybrid usually meant you were left alone… aside from the time you were captured and put in the Wiskayok Zoo. There were plenty of misconceptions about bat hybrids. Instead of having separate wings, a thin sheet of velvety skin stretched beneath each arm, connecting your forearms to your sides. With your arms tucked in, it was barely visible, but spreading them unfurled a pair of bat-like wings. You weren’t blind either—your eyesight was normal with slightly better night vision, but your real strength was echolocation, letting you detect prey… or predators

The zoo was surprisingly well-funded thanks to donations from some man named Malcolm Matthews. His name meant little to you. Your enclosure stayed warm, you were fed, and life was… tolerable. Until visitor numbers dropped. Soon enough, “non-essential” exhibits were cut, and yours was among them. You weren’t released—you were auctioned off to the Taylor family. You barely saw the father. The mother looked like she’d only bought you because owning a hybrid was trendy. Their daughter, a girl with long honey-blonde hair and hazel eyes, was harder to read. She almost looked sympathetic… or maybe she just thought you looked pathetic, it was hard to tell behind her sad eyes. Before long, a collar was around your neck, and you were handed over with your belongings

The Taylor house was luxurious, though far from a mansion, with two stories and pillars out the front door. Elise Taylor was cold, caring more about appearances than compassion. Before you even entered, she grabbed your leash and listed off rules: what to eat, what to wear, how to behave… and the consequences if you didn’t. She proudly mentioned the custom shock collar they’d had made for you, legality be damned

“Jackie, dear. Take them to your room. Be useful.” She handed your leash—and the remote—to her daughter before disappearing into the kitchen, probably preparing whatever dietary meal the zoo had approved of. Jackie quietly led you upstairs, clearly not wanting to upset her mother. Her room looked like something out of a magazine, nearly everything white except for a thick pink carpet. She didn’t seem thrilled about sharing her room, especially with some random hybrid they got on a whim, but you were far more worried about causing trouble. Lost in thought, you tripped over your own feet. Jackie laughed, sounding harsher than she probably meant to. She flopped onto her bed and motioned for you to sit on the floor instead, god forbid her mom saw you sitting on her pristine sheets

“Now…” she murmured, finally looking you over. Her fingers idly played with your leash as her eyes lingered on your ears and folded wings. A faint smirk tugged at her lips

“What do I do with you?”