Mated to Four

Phoebe.

“Remember—deep breath, no tension! Alpha and all the high-ranking wolves are here to watch your first shift.”

Mom’s warm hands combed gently through my shoulder-length brown hair. Just hearing her voice calmed me down a little, even though my stomach still felt like it was full of jumping beans. My eyes kept darting toward the stands where Dad sat, right next to the Alpha of our pack.

If it weren’t for this annual event, I’d probably be in my room right now, blasting music or bingeing some cheesy teen drama. But being a she-wolf in the Mystic Guardian Pack came with certain… obligations. Like proving I was finally old enough to be taken seriously—by shifting for the very first time.

Honestly? The whole thing felt like a freakin’talent show. And up until today, I’d been lucky I couldn’t shift yet. If Dad ever found out I thought like that, he’d go full-on lecture mode about honour and respect.

The mind-link thing? Yeah, that’s the wolf ability that creeps me out the most. Thank the Moon Goddess he couldn’t read my mind right now—even though his eyes were glued to me like lasers from across the field.

“You better pull this off. If you don’t, you’ll have to wait another year to be accepted into the pack—and guess what? Our ranks will be different. You don’t want that, do you?”

That deep, smug voice came from behind me. I groaned the second Phoenix ruffled my hair like I was some little kid.

Seriously? How could he still be in competition mode? Yeah, sure, he nailed his first shift months ago, but that didn’t mean he had to rub it in my face. Every word out of his mouth felt like a jab. Encouragement? Please. Phoenix never encouraged me—he lived to underestimate me.

I growled at him under my breath, and he threw his hands up to his chest like, Whoa, don’t bite me. Poker-faced, I turned away and focused on the open field a few feet ahead. That’s when I saw a petite girl—about my age, can’t remember her name—strut off after completing her shift like it was no big deal. Great. Perfect. Just what I needed.

Then came the voice that made my stomach sink. They were calling my name.

I sucked in a shaky breath and let it out slowly, pressing my palm against my chest to calm the storm inside me.

“Good luck, baby,” Mom whispered, her smile warm and full of hope.

With legs that felt like jelly, I walked toward the center of the hall. Every step felt heavier than the last. When I reached the white circle on the grass—the so-called starting point for glory—I glanced at Dad. He nodded once, like a silent command: Don’t screw this up.

I closed my eyes, willing the change to happen. Any second now.

Except… nothing happened.

No vibration. No spark. Just the pounding of my heart echoing in my ears.

Minutes dragged on like hours. Cold sweat slid down my spine as whispers rippled through the crowd. I still hadn’t shifted.

Did I… fail?

My eyes snapped open just in time to see Dad leaving the stands, heading straight for me. My gaze flicked to Phoenix—and yep, there it was. That smirk. An evil, I told you so grin plastered all over his face. My cheeks burned hot, and a single tear slipped down before I could stop it.

I sucked in a breath so sharp it hurt, but the tightness in my chest only grew. I gave up trying when Dad grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the center like I was some embarrassment to society.

“You’ve let us down—and humiliated me—in front of the entire pack. How is it Phoenix can do it, but you can’t?” Dad’s voice was low, but the venom stung worse than if he’d screamed.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I tried—”

“This is why I can’t rely on you, Phoebe. Phoenix is better than you. Always has been.”

There it was again. That damn sentence I’d heard my whole life. Always compared. Always second best. The anger bubbled so fast it made me dizzy. My fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms.

“Calm down, Ralph,” Mom cut in gently. “Maybe it’s just not her time yet. Be patient.”

“Dad’s right,” Phoenix added with a smug little smirk that made me want to claw his face off. “You should’ve been able to shift. But look at you—crying like a baby. The pack doesn’t need weak wolves.”

“Shut up.” My voice shook with fury.

“At least I didn’t embarrass the family,” he shot back.

That did it. Something inside me snapped. I was so sick of this—of him, of Dad, of all of it. I wanted to scream, to tear the whole world apart. And that’s when it hit me—hard.

A surge of energy exploded through me, shaking my bones to their core. My pulse went feral, blood roaring like a storm in my veins. Then came the heat—searing, wild, unstoppable.

My body convulsed as every bone cracked and stretched. I dropped to my knees, groaning through gritted teeth as my dress shredded apart, muscle and fur ripping through like fire. My hands slammed into the ground, nails blackening, fur spreading in thick waves until…

Until I wasn’t me anymore.

Four paws hit the earth as a howl ripped from my throat, echoing through the hall like a battle cry.

I’d done it. Finally shifted.

And my first instinct? To rip Phoenix’s smug grin right off his face.

I stalked toward him, lips curling back over my fangs, a growl vibrating deep in my chest. Phoenix’s aura flared red hot in my new vision—his silhouette burning like wildfire.

He grinned, sharp and cocky even now. “You challenging me, little sister?”

Before I could blink, he shifted—bones cracking, fur bursting—until his wolf towered before me. With a snarl, he lunged toward the center of the hall, and I charged right after him.

The crowd roared.

Then Dad’s wolf slammed between us, his growl slicing through the chaos. His dominance hit me like a wall, forcing me to freeze. Chest heaving, I backed down, lowering myself until I shifted back, skin slick with sweat and trembling all over.

I grabbed a blanket from the table, wrapping it around my shaking body as exhaustion crushed me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dad bowing low before the Alpha, muttering apologies. Mom mirrored him, her head bent in shame.

The stands emptied fast, whispers trailing behind like knives.

I stood there, drenched and hollow, the weight of failure still pressing on me even after I’d succeeded. No praise. Just silence and judgment.

Dad’s footsteps approached, heavy and sharp. Phoenix stood tall, chin high, pride radiating off him like heat waves.

Dad looked at me with eyes like fire and spat through gritted teeth, “I regret your reckless behaviour. We’ll talk about this at home.”

And just like that, any little spark of pride I had left… went up in smoke.