Cara Randall has dedicated her life to helping protect and save hybrids. Her hospital and shelter, Sanctuary, helps the injured or mistreated hybrids of Samta, New Kanoa. While she has success with her job, she's lacking the one thing she wants most...
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Cuddling with hybrids was one of my favourite pastimes, especially when it was with Hobi and even more so when the weather was cool like this. The emperor tamarin hybrid was always so active during the day, but he always made me feel extra special when he quietened down and just enjoyed the peacefulness of laying in each other's arms. There were only ever feelings of comfort and platonic love whenever I would cuddle with him since he had already found his destined mate, who was like another brother to me.
Like many animals in the wild, hybrids each had a mate – or in some cases, several mates. There were two types of hybrid mate bonds, destined and chosen.
Hybrids who had predetermined mates assigned by fate or destiny were basically soulmates and found the pull to each other impossible to ignore, especially after marking. Their scents were harmonious and mingled to create a delicious aroma... or so I was told. They mated for life, never finding another mate if theirs passed away first.
Chosen mates were drawn together by scent, and often had scent combinations that didn't really go together – think green apples and roses. They still felt drawn to each other, but it was more because they knew via the scents rather than outside forces like destiny.
As a human, I could not smell either hybrid or human scents, but if I was destined to be a mate for a hybrid, then I would be able to smell, and taste, their scent. That's right, according to the hybrids I knew and what research had said, however a person smelled, it was also how they tasted.
I often wondered whether I would be one of those humans with a hybrid mate, but after my 30th birthday last year, I began to wonder if I was meant to be with a human.
Or am I not meant to be with anyone at all?
From my hybrid friends, I had been told that my scent was delicious, like a luxurious creamy dessert infused with the finest vanilla beans. Apparently, it was sweet, inviting and very comforting; something I was appreciative of when I had distressed, sick and anxious hybrids around me. Not all scents were nice like mine though; nasty and hateful people had a bitter or rotten aroma or undertone to them.
Sometimes I wished I could smell scents, but then at other times I was grateful I couldn't as I think it would get overwhelming.
I could hear Hobi, or Seokie as I called his animal form, sniffing the air, his little whiskers in his adorably large white moustache wiggling back and forth. He was currently in his animal form, and it was so cute how he was preening my hair. Unlike emperor tamarins in the wild, Hobi wasn't pulling bugs from me to eat; running his tiny hands through hair was his way of showing that he trusted and loved the people closest to him.
At 17, Hoseok had been surrendered to Sanctuary after his elderly owner, Miss Clara, had passed away from a short battle with cancer. Being the one who had helped the two find a loving family together shortly after my shelter had opened, I was deeply saddened to hear about her passing. Since he was still technically a minor, Hobi stayed at the shelter and we were able to enrol him into school, where he completed his education and went on to become a teacher himself. As soon as he graduated university, I hired him as one of the teachers at Sanctuary, and by the way the young hybrids loved him, I knew I'd made the right choice.
