Transmigration：How a Trash Female Become the Werebeasts' Heartthrob

The first thing Fiona Jenkins felt when she opened her eyes was brutal pain. Between her thighs was a deep, swollen soreness, the kind of intrusive rawness that came after a brutal night of s*x in bed. Before she could even process the discomfort, pain crashed over her and wiped out everything else. A sharp breath tore out of her. She looked down on instinct, and shock slammed through her! A wound gaped open in her chest. Blood poured from it, hot and bright, soaking through the front of her clothes. 'What the hell? Wasn't I just taking a nap in my own bed? Why...' Fiona froze. The thought snapped off as she jerked her head up and looked around. Nothing about the room was familiar. The room looked like the wreckage of some ancient royal bridal chamber, not anywhere she had ever set foot in. Reality hit her cold and hard. This was absolutely not her house! She sure as hell had not gotten married in her sleep, and she definitely had not been murdered on her wedding night! So where the hell was she? She never got the chance to answer herself. A savage pain exploded through her, as if her head had split open. Memories flooded in all at once, too many, too fast, and none of them hers! Fiona braced herself against the mattress and forced herself to breathe through the dizziness! Piece by piece, the chaos sharpened into something she could understand. The events of the previous night played out in her mind. She had been blindfolded, writhing in pleasure beneath an unknown man. Then, just when she had let herself trust him completely, the man above her gave a low, dark laugh and drove a knife straight into her heart! Pleasure turned to agony in the span of a heartbeat. One moment he had been inside her, his body tangled with hers in the most intimate way possible. The next, he had murdered her without a flicker of hesitation! Fiona heard the former owner of this body's voice in her head, trembling with disbelief. "Why? I loved you. Why would you do this to me?" The man never answered. He simply withdrew from her body without an ounce of hesitation, ripping the dagger out with him. Blood sprayed into the air as Fiona collapsed limply against the mattress, the last breath leaving her lungs. Fiona lay there, gasping for air, her chest heaving. The sheer despair and phantom pain seemed to cling to her bones, and it took her a solid ten minutes to pull herself together. Those memories were not hers! She had woken up in someone else's body! She had woken in the Shifter Realm, a world where women were dangerously rare. The body's previous owner had been named Fiona Jenkins too. In this realm, female shifters were rare, highly revered, and held absolute dominance over males. The original Fiona had been a princess, the Queen's favored daughter, and when she came of age, the Queen chose three mates for her and ordered her to claim them all. Not because she was greedy, spoiled, or insatiable. That was simply how the Shifter Realm worked. When a female shifter came of age, the realm assigned her one or more mates to claim. It was meant to keep bloodlines alive and male shifters under control. Male shifters needed weekly psychic soothing from a female shifter to stay sane. Without it, they would go feral, shift out of control, and lose themselves to their animal instincts. Once a female shifter came of age, she was required to soothe at least one male shifter a day. If she failed, she would be stripped of her status, cast out of the realm's protection, and reduced to a rogue, fair game for cruelty, exploitation, or worse. Even Princess Fiona had not been exempt. Fiona furrowed her brow, a heavy irritation settling in her chest. Then another thought slid in. Someone had killed this body's previous owner. And if Fiona trusted her instincts, the killer was almost certainly one of the three mates she had claimed. Who else could have entered a heavily guarded bridal chamber on the wedding night? Who else could have gotten close enough to blindfold her, touch her, take her to bed, and then drive a knife through her heart? The thought of having to soothe her own murderer made Fiona's stomach turn! Still, not everything in those memories was bad. The previous Fiona had been a rare healing-type shifter. The problem was that her power had always been pitifully weak. The memories told her she could barely heal a scrape, let alone soothe a male shifter on the verge of going feral. Because of this, she was classified as a low-rank female shifter and was thoroughly despised by her three claimed mates. If they had not needed her to keep their feral instincts in check, those men would never have touched her at all! Curious, Fiona tentatively focused her mind, calling upon her healing power. Instantly, the fatal wound on her chest began to knit itself back together at a terrifying speed. In less than ten seconds, there was not even a scar. 'Are you kidding me? With this kind of ability, she was considered weak? A low-rank female shifter?' 'Why the hell did the previous Fiona hide her true strength?' Fiona could not make sense of it, but the more she thought about the contempt her three mates had shown the previous Fiona, the more absurd it all seemed. 'A bunch of blind fools!' Maybe she did not know yet which one had held the knife, but she knew one thing with perfect certainty. She was here now. And she was not going to let the woman who died in this bed go unavenged! Decision made, Fiona rose, changed into clean clothes, and headed for the door. It was time to meet her three claimed mates and hunt for clues. She had barely opened the door when she found Mateo Yoder waiting outside. He was Fiona's Warden. Every female shifter was assigned a Warden when she turned fifteen. Officially, Wardens existed to protect them. In reality, they were watchdogs as much as bodyguards. They made sure female shifters obeyed the law and fulfilled their duty to soothe male shifters. If she failed too often, her Warden could report her and have her stripped of the Realm's protection. She had only just arrived in this world, and the dead girl's memories were still fragmented and incomplete. If she got herself cast out, she would not last long. Mateo's face was unreadable. "Princess Fiona," he said, cool and formal, "which of your mates would you like me to summon tonight?" Fiona paused for only a second. "Bring them all." If the killer was one of the three, then the moment he realized she was alive, his first reaction would tell her something. Mateo gave a curt nod and turned to leave. "Wait." Fiona called. Mateo paused, glancing back over his shoulder. Her smile was waiting for him, bright, soft, and disarming. "Mateo," she asked, her voice light, "do you know who my favorite is?" He went still for the briefest moment. Then his eyes darkened slightly. "I wouldn't dare guess, Your Highness." 'Hard to crack.' Fiona almost sighed. She softened her smile instead and tilted her head. "Come on, we grew up together. Just because you're my Warden now doesn't mean you have to treat me so sternly. Help me just this once. Bring him to me first. There's something I want to tell him in private. Please?" Mateo went still. He looked down at Fiona, her delicate face tilted up in a flawless plea. She looked so soft, so heartbreakingly earnest, that it was impossible to say no. As if possessed, he gave a faint nod. "All right." He turned and walked away. Ten minutes later, Fiona's first claimed mate arrived. The man who stepped into the room had bright, mesmerizing eyes. His face was almost too beautiful, and a crimson apex mark glowed at the side of his neck, the sign of an awakened apex shifter! Fiona's breath caught for half a second. The worst part was the natural, seductive magnetism rolling off him. Every move he made was lethally captivating. Then the original Fiona's memories supplied a name, Zane Wilcox. He was the heir to the Fox Clan. So this was the man the previous Fiona had loved most. Was he also the one who had killed her? Fiona lowered her eyes for a moment, keeping her expression neutral. Before she could decide what to say first, Zane crossed the room with thinly veiled impatience and stopped in front of her. "Fiona," he said coolly, "I'm not scheduled for your soothing tonight. If you need someone, call one of the others." A sharp, incredulous laugh almost escaped her. So the previous Fiona had truly been that unwanted. It was only the second day after their wedding, and he was already speaking to her as if she were a burden. Fiona studied him carefully. His face showed nothing but impatience. There was nothing off about his demeanor. Maybe he was genuinely unaware that she had been brutally murdered the night before. Fiona lowered her gaze. Foxes were notoriously cunning. Or maybe, he was simply clever enough to hide it. When Fiona did not respond at once, a hint of surprise crossed his face. The previous Fiona would never have stayed quiet after being dismissed like that. She would have thrown a tantrum or cried for his attention. Instead, Fiona only watched him. She was far too calm, not like her at all. It was unnerving. The unnatural silence made his skin prickle. Then she asked, "Where were you last night?" A trace of mockery flashed across Zane's eyes. "Fiona, I may be one of your mates, but I'm not your pet. You don't get to interrogate me about where I go." Fiona sneered. "Did you miss the part of the male shifter code that says your claiming lady comes first?" Disgust darkened Zane's beautiful eyes. He closed the distance between them, staring down at her with undisguised contempt. "You're nothing but a low-rank female shifter. What makes you think you're worthy of speaking to me like that?"