Protected by Three Mates

Fiona – POV “Good morning, sleepyhead.” The soft, teasing voice of Veronica broke through the peaceful fog of my sleep, and I groaned in response, burying my face deeper into the pillow. She was relentless. Even on days like this. “What the hell are you talking about, Vero?” I mumbled, dragging the bedsheet off my body, my voice thick with sleep. “It’s my day off. I’m sleeping for at least five more minutes.” She wasn’t having it. “You can’t sleep your birthday away, Fiona, especially not when you’re the biggest dunce in the room,” she teased, pulling harder at the covers. “Now get your lazy butt up!” “Where are we even going?” I asked sluggishly, still clinging to the last bits of sleep. Veronica just smirked, that mischievous twinkle in her eye, and shrugged. “It’s a surprise.” Then, with a laugh, she yanked the bedsheet clean off me. “Get up already, lazy a**!” With a resigned grunt, I pushed myself up and shuffled to the bathroom, the sleep weighing heavily on my body. The hot water from the shower did little to wash away the lingering fog of grief that sat behind my eyelids, as present as ever. Six months. It had been six months since my parents had been taken from me, and even now, on my 18th birthday, I could feel the hollow ache left in their absence. When I emerged from the shower and made my way back to the room, there was a small, beautiful box on the bed. A note lay beside it in the familiar handwriting I hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. “Happy birthday to our pumpkin.” I froze. My heart felt like it was collapsing in on itself, and before I could stop them, tears welled up in my eyes. My hand trembled as I reached for the gift, the ache in my chest turning into something sharp and uncontainable. Veronica was suddenly beside me, her hand gently resting on my shoulder. She didn’t say anything—she didn’t need to. She understood. She always understood. With shaky hands, I opened the box, revealing a delicate silver chain with a stone in the center—swirling with colors that looked like the entire galaxy had been captured within it. It was beautiful, and exactly the kind of gift my parents would’ve chosen. As the tears fell freely, Vero knelt beside me, quietly wiping them away. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice soft and full of the affection that had grown between us over the years. Her parents had been close to mine, our families intertwined, and Vero had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. We had grown up together, shared secrets, dreams, and now, grief. The memory of my parents felt both vivid and distant, like a dream I was trying to hold onto. “Six months,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Six months without them.” Veronica squeezed my hand, her presence a comfort I didn’t know I needed until now. “I miss them too,” she said softly. Her kindness made me feel even more fragile. Before my parents died, I hadn’t known much about the world of shifters. I hadn’t known that they were part of it, that they were dragon shifters. And I certainly hadn’t known that Veronica—my best friend—was a wolf shifter. I still felt so out of place in this world. A human among supernatural beings, constantly questioning my worth. “I’m not like you guys. I don’t shift into animals or anything. I’m just... weak.” My voice broke, the insecurity I’d buried deep inside me finally spilling out. Veronica’s hand threaded through my hair gently, her touch grounding me. “Pumpkin, you’re more than you think,” she whispered, her tone tender. “Someday, you’ll surpass us all.” Her words confused me, but there was no time to dwell on them. She handed me a beautiful blue dress, the fabric soft and flowing. “Come on, let’s get ready.” I smiled weakly, slipping into the dress and covering the dark circles under my eyes with makeup. When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself—green eyes wide and alert, lips painted with soft pink lipstick, and mascara adding a slight flare to my lashes. I wasn’t sure if I liked the person staring back at me. As I made my way downstairs in black strapped heels, Veronica looked at me and grinned. “You look gorgeous, b***h,” she said with a wink, her black sleeveless gown hugging her figure perfectly. She was stunning—always had been. Sometimes it felt impossible not to compare myself to her, or to the other shifters with their effortless grace and beauty. Standing next to them, I always felt so... ordinary. Veronica’s mother called from the kitchen, “Veronica, watch your language!” She said it with a smile, though. Mrs. White had always been kind to me, as if I was her own daughter. I tried to push down the ache that rose in my throat when she and Mr. White handed me a gift. “Thank you,” I said, my voice breaking slightly. The memory of my parents was still too fresh, too raw. Before I could get too lost in my thoughts, Eric stormed into the hallway, his loud voice filling the space. “Fiona, happy birthday!” Mr. White rolled his eyes, and I couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. Eric had always been a bit of a pain, especially since the whole mate bond situation with Veronica. For weeks, she had suffered, waiting for him to accept the bond, and when he finally did, it had been too late to erase the hurt. I still wasn’t sure I had forgiven him for it. Eric approached me cautiously, as if testing the waters. “Thank you,” I said, my voice careful, the old resentment still lingering. He raised an eyebrow at me, sensing the tension. “You still think I’m irritating, huh?” he asked with a crooked grin. I shot him an icy look in response. He didn’t push further, but I could tell he was trying. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to let him back in, not yet. As we sat down to dinner, Eric’s voice broke the momentary silence. “I need your forgiveness too, Fiona.” His tone was serious, and his eyes held mine, searching. I hadn’t expected that. Veronica’s eyes flicked to mine, pleading silently for me to let go of the past. After a long pause, I sighed. “Fine. I forgive you.” His face broke into a relieved smile, and Veronica’s eyes softened with gratitude. The weight between us seemed to lift, if only just a little. Later, as we sat around the table, Veronica brought up the memory of the clairvoyant we’d spoken to last summer. “She told you that you’d meet your mate once you turned 18, remember?” I shook my head, laughing softly. “You don’t actually believe that, do you?” Veronica smiled knowingly. “You’ll see,” she said, her voice full of certainty. “There’s something special about you, Fiona. Something even you don’t understand yet.” But I wasn’t so sure. The world of shifters was still a mystery to me, and no prophecy or prediction could bring back the parents I had lost.