The Four Of Them Novels & Stories

A teasing voice cut through the air with the approaching Fabian, who was fawned over and orbited by a group of childhood friends. “Buddy, you should’ve come to me for a loan! How are the cars coming along? I’ve been bragging about you everywhere, so don’t let me embarrass myself now!” Standing beside him was Chester Byrd, casually raising his wrist adorned with an imitation of a green Rolex Submariner.

Even Luna chuckled softly, and the atmosphere grew light and cheerful—until it didn’t. The room fell silent when an elderly woman in a white hood entered, holding a wooden staff carved with light symbols. Everyone stood in respect. The seer—looked right at me. Or maybe through me. Her eyes were cloudy, ancient, and knowing. “I see four lights surrounding you, daughter of Mystic Guardian,” she said slowly. “Four bonds. Four destinies.” The room froze. “Four… mates?” Luna whispered. My breath caught. Zion stared at me, stunned, while trying to process what he’d just heard.

The word settled like a blade between my ribs. Calder crossed his arms. “There’s a fourth option.” Mireya smiled. Not kindly. Not cruelly. “Yes.” she said. “There is. But it requires a choice before nightfall.” I looked at my mates - four alphas, four wolves - bound to me not by convenience but by fate and fire. Whatever came next, it would not be mine alone. “Then we decide today.” I said. “Together.” Mireya’s gaze flicked to the windows, where clouds were already gathering though the morning was young.

“Overwhelming? Try downright insane.” Mina arched an eyebrow, her gaze sharp and assessing as it bore into Seraphine. “You genuinely don’t know who they are?” Crossing her arms defiantly, Seraphine shot back, “Should I?” Caleb let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Wow, you really are clueless. Unbelievable! You’ve just crossed paths with the Four.” “The Four?” Seraphine echoed, confusion etched across her face.

Her eyes fall onto the ring on my finger. Anxiously I cover it up and smile in a sorry way, "It's nice to meet you." "These are my brothers, Carter, Carson and Carlos. We are the Carrson quads." I recognize their names, late nights where I'd complain about Julio watching races, one of their names would pop up. All four of then would enter the same race, it was three out of four of them were the top winners or one and even so if one does, they all win as said in one of their interviews.

And a fourth, taller than the rest, his body cloaked in green-blue mist, water magic rolling off him in waves. They don’t speak, but they don’t need to. I understand right away that they’re Seraphira’s Four. They move through the chaos like gods, people seeming to part when they go by. Their bond crackles in the air. I can feel it, even from here. Each of them is connected to her and to each other, their connection unmistakable. They’re a unit. They don’t move as five individuals. They’re a force. Seraphira watches them with something like longing, or maybe memory. “You still think you aren’t enough,” she says softly. “Because you’ve only tasted your power. You haven’t claimed it yet.”

I had to know it, the sooner the better! Four cleared his throat. “You might have figured out why we were called numbers, right?” I nodded to affirm his suspicion. “Okay so. I am Four. That is Eight, the one you attacked before,” he pointed to a buff guy on his right. “Then that’s Six, Nine, Five and Two,” he said, pointing to the rest of the group. “And you are?” “Eleven,” I simply uttered. “What time is it?” I asked without thinking, I was beginning to feel agitated, talking like there was time to spare.

He takes his place on the other side of him, and the chatter continues until we all see movement off to the north. Four figures are walking toward us, followed by other men behind them, and I realize the four in front are the Alphas, and the ones trailing them are their Betas and other servants. The four of them are only wearing short, tight, athletic shorts, and my heart starts beating out of my chest just looking at them. When the four men come to stand in front of the king, I can hardly keep my eyes on their faces, not because I want to stare at their chests, although that is also the case. I’m just too nervous to make eye contact.

“How many parties are we discussing?” “Four.”

That I'd become exactly what they'd promised—their shared girl, their treasure, their good girl who belonged to all four of them. Friday nights were still sacred. Still reserved for all of us together. But now they had me other nights too—Marcus on Tuesdays after he finished work, David on Wednesdays when he had late meetings nearby, James on Thursday mornings before the markets opened, Eric whenever his schedule allowed. I was theirs completely. And they were mine. The door opened and I heard familiar footsteps. I turned to find all four of them walking in—they'd planned this, clearly, showing up together on a random Tuesday evening.