Originally, the world was populated by humans, shapeshifters and fatels. Apparently, there was peace between peoples even if we mingled very little, living next to each other without real contact and all had a well defined place. But if we had scratched the surface, we would have discovered that the reality was quite different.

      The fatels had held power for decades. Normal, their ranks included prophetesses, telepaths, telekinesists and other creatures with extraordinary power. They were very powerful and acted as judges in case of conflict because of their exemplary wisdom. Certain shapeshifters clans envied this power. They considered themselves just as powerful and, as predators, felt that it was up to them to rule the world. They wanted to be the powerful chiefs, unlike the fatels who ruled with rightness and empathy. And the packs had an undeniable advantage: the animals felt the magic which circulated in the blood of the fatels. The Black pack, among others, was one of those clans in search of wealth and recognition.

      With method and patience, the dissident clans exterminated one by one all the fatels to reach the high economic and political spheres. The first affected were the prophetesses. The clans wanted to eliminate in priority those who had the capacity to predict their project, and therefore attack them. Most humans ignored their physical particularity, because these, very precious for their people, lived almost with self—sufficient. But shapeshifters knew all about them. They had no offensive power and their eyes betrayed them in the face of enemies. Impossible for them to hide among humans. Despite their incredible power, they could not do anything against the massive attack that hit them. The others were then tracked down and killed one by one in the penumbra, without that it raise any questions. Car accidents, heart attacks or attacks of "wild animals" in the forest. Nothing seemingly suspicious, even if it has raised questions among humans and shapeshifters over time. The rebels made them disappear from the face of the Earth and the existence of the fatels quickly fell into oblivion. Since there was no concrete evidence pointing to the culprits, only suspicion, no one was punished. No one has avenged this peaceful people exterminated for their essence. A real genocide. For our salvation, the rebel packs did not become the world masters either. Humans and other packs realized what had happened under their eyes and were horrified by their own inaction. Things have changed, evolved, since this drama, by strengthen ties between humans and shapeshifters, so that such a tragedy can never happen again. But it was too late: the damage was done, the magic people had been wiped out.

      Actually, this is what everyone has thought for the past twenty—five years …

      I do my shift at Jefferson Hospital as I do five days a week, two to three times a day. I love this place. I work in the intensive care unit of a small hospital in the center of a town mainly directed by humans, a people of which I am one. I know I am useful here, and that is why I chose this position six years ago. I want to help people and this is the perfect place to do it.

      – Hello Sevana. Did you have a good weekend?

      – Hello Ashley. Not bad and you ?

      – Great. A nice weekend to stay in bed with my new lover. Did you have interesting meetings on your side?

      Always the same question on Monday morning. It’s boring and a little exasperating. I love Ashley. She’s been my friend since I was hired in this department, however I know exactly what her raised eyebrow means. My sentimental life, or rather, the absence of my sentimental life, has been his favorite topic of discussion for as long as I can remember. I'm only twenty—six, damn it! I don’t feel the panic of my biological clock that seems to worry my friend so much. To believe that I have an expiration date and that I will soon expire! Not that I'm not interested in men. I have had relationships before. Let's just say that my little peculiarity is not to everyone's taste and that few have given me enough self—confidence to show them my real self. Not to mention my extraordinary ability which sometimes teaches me things that I would prefer to ignore and which aborts my flirting much sooner than expected. Like, I'm just a hobby before Mister’s next real adventure. It doesn't really make you want to stay with the said oaf who just wants to have a good time with me. I don't want to be a quick date by the way. I'm better than that. That’s why I know in advance that my weekend activities will not be to Ashley’s liking.

      – No. I had a cocooning Sunday with a good book and a hot bath. A real relaxing weekend.

      – You are despairing. At this rate, you will end up being an old maid and you will live surrounded by cats! When are you finally going to find yourself a nice little human to take care of you?

      I stick my tongue out like a kid. What she may think or fear is going over my head. I am sure that when the time is right, the man made for me will come into my life and never leave it.

      – Do we meet to eat?

      – Okay. See you later.

      Why do I agree to join her for the meal each time? I know how the conversation will turn out. She will still try to arrange a meeting with one of her acquaintances. And these arranged meetings, for the few that I accepted just that she leaves me a little quiet, they all turned out to be disastrous. Men around her tend to imagine that I only think about sleeping or that it's all cooked, since after all, I'm lucky that they pay me a little attention, and so they don't have to make an effort to seduce me.

      I go into the nearest room, internally blaming my weakness in front of my friend, I just don't want to offend her, but it costs me. I mentally shake myself to put aside my thoughts and take up a professional position. I go to the patient's bedside and perform my ritual. Always the same: I read the file, check the patient's constants and touch his hand. This last point is my personal trademark. There is only me who  do it this way and I remain extremely discreet about this detail, but it is essential. Let's say that I have, um, intuition. Sometimes, with a simple physical contact, I learn things about the person in question. I see her future, a possibility, what she could be if no outside person intervenes, anyway. As part of my work, I will know whether the patient's condition will deteriorate or not. In service, I’m called the Guardian Angel. I have saved many lives over the years and my colleagues are no longer surprised when I ask for help for a patient who seems stable. As now, for this wolf shape—shifter who arrived very badly this morning, and whose heart will stop beating in a few moments. I'm not wasting time and activate the intercom.

      – RESUSCITATION'S TROLLEY ROOM 4.

      The doctor on duty came running, followed by my friend Ashley, who was responsible of  the floor in pairs with me.

      – Check-up, nurse Slat?

      – Male wolf shapeshifter patient, 20 years old, multiple lacerations in the abdomen, several broken ribs, double fracture in the left arm.

      – Reason for the alert?

      – Imminent drop in heartbeat.

      The doctor does not question my diagnosis. I regularly depend on his team, he is used