My Girlfriend's A Tribrid

1,016 years.
9 months.
5 weeks.
8 days.
72 hours.
263 minutes.
1,986 seconds... and still counting.

That was how long she had been alone.

Not truly alone-her coven was always with her. They traveled together like a family, but spoke to each other like distant relatives. Still, they had each other's backs no matter what, especially after what happened with the original coven leaders.

Morgana was gifted. Of course she was-she was the first Tribrid in existence. But what truly set her apart were her visions. They weren't as strong or as frequent as a seer's, but they always held meaning.

So when she began to have flashes-unprompted, vivid glimpses-of a small town in Canada called Whitechapel, she ignored them at first. She assumed it was nothing more than random static in her mind.

But the visions persisted.

They became clearer, louder. And eventually, Morgana gave in. She made her way to Whitechapel, expecting nothing more than a quick snack, maybe a run-in with a couple of baby vamps. A minor detour on her centuries-long path.

Oh, how wrong she was.

Whitechapel wasn't just a pit stop. It was the beginning of something else entirely. Something she never saw coming.

Because in that small, snowy town, Morgana met her mate.

And when a whole new genre of supernatural beings enters the game, nothing will ever be the same-not for Morgana, not for her coven, and definitely not for Whitechapel.