Tribal Series Book 1: Timeless
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- Parts 11
Kat is just a simple graduate student, aiming to get her masters in History when she has a paper due about the Cheyenne Tribe. She comes across artifacts and wonders, what if the Natives never lost?
"What can you do? You are not one of The People." He spat.
His words were filled with bitterness and rage, so much so that I could only stand there, paralyzed. He was right though. What could I do? The only thing I was good at in modern times was getting 'A's on my papers. I never studied combat or battle strategies. I am useless.
It wasn't until the tear dropped that I noticed I was weeping. I looked back into his midnight eyes and saw nothing but disgust. With a sneer, he walked away.
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In the twilight city of Nyxridge, where humans and hybrids coexisted in fragile balance, tensions between clans simmered just beneath the surface. Especially between the Canis and Felis hybrids-ancient rivals bound by blood, pride, and centuries of bad history. Kai was every bit the stereotype of a Canis-strong, loud, fiercely loyal, and hopelessly impulsive. With sharp amber eyes and tousled hair that looked like it had never been tamed, he was the kind of guy who'd pick a fight before saying hello. Popular, hot-headed, and undeniably attractive, he ruled the academy halls like a storm on legs. And when it came to Haru? He couldn't stand him. Haru was everything Kai wasn't-sleek, sarcastic, and infuriatingly pretty. A Felis hybrid with soft silver hair, a velvet voice, and a tail that flicked whenever he was amused (which was usually when Kai was angry). Cold, clever, and impossible to read, Haru acted like he was always ten steps ahead-and Kai hated that... and maybe, deep down, was a little obsessed with it. They bickered in the halls. Fought during sparring class. Threw barbed insults across the room like knives laced with tension. But something changed the night they got locked in the training room after curfew. Breathless. Close. Alone. One heated stare turned into a challenge. One shove turned into a grip that lingered too long. Their fight burned with more than rivalry now-it was something primal. Something neither of them wanted to name. ¿uǝddɐɥ llıʍ ʇɐɥM
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