I stared at the glowing and somewhat inhuman looking woman who stood in front of me, trying to absorb the fact that this was Amylia, one of my instructors. She resembled the Amylia I knew a little, though only a little. Both had violet eyes and white hair, but this glowing version had much more intense eyes and hair that was pearlescent rather than plain white. However, there was something in her eyes and presence that assured me that this was indeed my instructor.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, though I already had a good idea.

“You are not the only hybrid at the Academy,” Amylia admitted with a faint smile. “Nor even the only mythic.”

I continued staring at Amylia, suddenly feeling betrayed. I’d been a student here for nearly a month and had felt like no one understood. I’d been mocked and bullied because I was a Were and she still hadn’t said anything.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded, feeling hurt and a little angry.

“Perhaps I should have,” Amylia agreed with a sad smile. She gestured to some large rocks that were just the right size to sit on. “Please sit and we can discuss this.”

I nodded and sat down, stretching my wings a little before folding them up behind me. Amylia sat as well and just stared up at the moon for a moment with a strange expression.

“What are you?” I asked curiously. “An elf?”

“I believe so,” she answered, looking at me again and giving me a wry smile. “That or some sort of faerie, though I have never met the real thing to verify this.” Then she gestured around us and mused, “I usually come here during the full moon. When I am like this, I feel claustrophobic in my quarters and cannot comfortably remain there for the entire night.”

“But why?” I asked quietly. “Why did you make me think I was the only one here?”

Amylia was silent for a moment before she answered. “It has been a very long time since I revealed myself to anyone. Not even the staff here know that I am a hybrid.” She paused for a moment before admitting, “Arita may know.” She gave an amused smile as she added, “I’ve never told her, but Professor Roangard has a tendency to know more than you might suspect.”

“you’re ashamed of being a Were,” I said in sudden realization.

“Perhaps once,” Amylia admitted with a sigh. “Now, being a Were is simply not part of my life. I have never been part of the Were community and have never thought of myself as such. I change during the full moon when I have no choice, but very rarely apart from that.” Then she stared up at the moon again and mused, “I usually consider my monthly transformations as merely being part of my sorcerers mark.”

I watched Amylia, feeling a little confused. “But you are a Were…”

Amylia merely nodded at that. “You have seen a little of how some Touched behave towards the Were,” she said carefully. “My own family held similar convictions.”

I gulped at that, knowing that it would have to be hard having your own family treating you the way I had been since I’d arrived. I couldn’t even imagine mom or aunt June treating me like that.

“My father was from a respectable Touched family,” Amylia said. From the wry smile and tone of her melodic voice, I could almost see her giving air quotes when she’d said the word ‘respectable.’ “He fell in love with and married my mother, a Were cow, in spite of his family’s protests. She died when I was merely an infant and I never even met another Were until I was already an adult and accomplished sorceress.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling sorry for her. If she’d only grown up with other Touched and never even knew her mother’s side of the family, it was no wonder she didn’t really think of herself as Were.

“My father was tolerant of my being a Were,” Amylia told me with an amused look. “The fact that I was also a sorceress made it easier for him to accept. He could just think of it as nothing more than a sorcerers mark. Unfortunately, my older half-sister was anything but tolerant. She’d never forgiven our father for marrying a Were and was jealous that I was a sorceress while she was not. That only made her more hateful.”

I didn’t know what to say to that so I didn’t say anything. It seemed that Amylia was trying to make up for not telling me about her being a hybrid by giving me her life story now. I had a feeling that she hadn’t talked to anyone about this stuff for a very long time, if ever.

“I envy you,” Amylia told me with a gentle smile. “Your family seems to accept and encourage both your natures. I sometimes wonder what it would have been like, growing up with my mother’s people and living as a Were instead of as Touched.”

“I guess, I can see why you didn’t say anything,” I said quietly.

Amylia nodded at that and gave me a gentle smile as she responded, “But I still should have.”

“Are there more like us?” I asked her hopefully. My sense of betrayal had changed to one of relief that I wasn’t alone, that there was someone else like me that I could talk to.

“Do you mean other hybrids?” Amylia asked with a faint smile. “Or hybrids who are also sorcerers? Or maybe hybrids who are both sorcerers and mythics.”

I blinked at that. “Um…”

“As you know, even a normal hybrid is not common,” she told me with an amused look. “Most of those don’t come to the Academy, and those who do tend to keep their Were status to themselves. We get a sorcerer hybrid at the Academy every few decades.”

“But what about ones like us?” I asked. “Mythics.”

Amylia was silent for a moment before she finally responded, “You are the only one I have ever met besides myself who is both sorceress and mythic.” She paused and gave me a wry smile. “I heard of another one once, one who could become a hydra. Unfortunately, he was murdered by a monster hunter before I ever had the chance to meet him.”

We were both quiet for a minute before I abruptly asked, “What’s it like being an elf?”

“What’s it like being a succubus?” she responded with an amused look. “I would imagine it would be difficult to describe to someone who hasn’t experienced it.” At my nod, she explained, “My senses are different…more developed. I am more aware of my surroundings and of magic. I also have an instinctive dislike of enclosed spaces and an aversion to consuming meat.”

“It’s…embarrassing,” I admitted to her, not being able to look her in the face as I explained. “I feel things I shouldn’t. I mean…with guys.”

“I see,” she responded without judgment. “That shouldn’t be surprising for a succubus.”

“But it also feels good,” I added self-consciously. “It makes me feel so alive.”

“I can imagine how difficult it must be,” Amylia said carefully. “Especially for someone who was male such a short time ago.”

“It’s a bit to get used to,” I admitted, twitching my tail back and forth nervously.

Amylia watched me for a minute without saying anything, looking thoughtful and a little curious. “You know,” she finally said, “you are the first person I’ve told of my Were nature in a very long time. Most of those who know about it have long since died.” She paused at that to stare at the moon again, musing, “In fact, other than you and possibly Arita…Professor Roangard, the only other person to know would be my ex-husband.” Amylia gave me a wry look and said, “He was less than pleased about my being a Were.”

I blinked at that. “Then why did you get married?”

“It was an arranged marriage,” Amylia answered with a sigh. “And accepting it was perhaps the greatest mistake I ever made. I kept my hybrid nature a secret from him for years, pretending to be a normal Touched. When he eventually discovered that I was also a Were, he was furious.” She scowled deeply. “His reaction made your feud with Teressa seem like gentle teasing in comparison.”

“Damn,” I muttered, not sure what else I could say.

“That was long ago,” Amylia told me with a faint smile. “I am glad that I chose to tell you about my being a hybrid. It wasn’t until now that I realized how much I needed to talk to someone else as well.”

I just smiled at that. “I appreciate you trusting me.”

“Which reminds me,” she began.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I promised her, already guessing what she wanted. She’d been keeping her secret from everyone at the Academy for who knows how long, so I certainly wasn’t about to out her.

Amylia smiled appreciatively and nodded. “Thank you.”

We continued talking for two more hours with Amylia asking me questions about the Were community and what it had been like growing up with a Were parent. She was obviously curious about what she’d missed growing up but returned the favor by telling me about some of the other hybrid students who’d come through the Academy and how they’d dealt with things. Eventually, we said goodbye and I flew back to my dorm room, intending to use my own hands and the remaining hours until sunrise to try satisfying the itch that Todd had left unscratched.