Phoenix

“Sit down, both of you! I don’t need to go over your mistakes again. Especially you, Phoebe. Your behavior earlier only made me look bad in front of Alpha Lennox.”

Dad’s voice cracked like a whip, and the tension in the dining room thickened until it was almost suffocating.

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay quiet. This wasn’t new. It never was. Phoebe always managed to push my buttons—but today, she’d taken it to another level. If I hadn’t dragged her out of that hall when I did, we would’ve caused a full-blown scene in front of the entire pack. That thought alone made my stomach twist.

Phoebe had always been reckless, pretending to be perfect while constantly breaking the rules. I was always the one fixing her mistakes, reminding her to stay in line with Dad’s expectations, with the pack’s expectations. But did she ever listen? Of course not.

Despite being twins, we couldn’t be more different if we tried. Sometimes I wished human tech could reprogram personalities, not just appearances. Because if anyone needed a major system update, it was Phoebe.

Now she stood there, head bowed, shoulders hunched, while Dad’s words sliced through the silence like silver blades.

“I’m really sorry,” she muttered, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“You always say that!” The words shot out of me before I could stop them. “Do you even realize what you’ve done? Apologizing isn’t enough. Dad’s a Beta—his reputation is on the line. The least you could do is act like it matters.”

“ENOUGH!” Dad’s roar rattled the walls, slamming into me like a physical blow.

Phoebe and I froze. The tension snapped tighter, and my stomach churned as I caught the warning signs—his eyes glowing, pupils narrowing to predatory slits. One more wrong word and this would turn bloody.

He turned on Phoebe like a storm zeroing in on its target. “You still can’t control yourself. You embarrassed this family, and now you’re ruining dinner too.” His finger jabbed the air like a knife, each word heavier than the last.

“Oh, of course, it’s all my fault—again!” Phoebe slammed her spoon down so hard the sound echoed like gunfire. Her voice dripped with venom as she shot back, “Just blame me for everything, like always!”

“Enough, Phoebe!” Dad’s patience snapped like dry twigs. “Why is it so hard for you to follow simple rules? You’re grounded. No allowance. No outings. No privileges for an entire month. Do you understand me?”

I sucked in a sharp breath. That was harsh—even for Dad. Phoebe’s face went pale, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t beg. She just lifted her chin and glared straight at me.

Like this was my fault.

And then she said it. “I hate you, Phoenix. I wish you never existed.”

Her words hit harder than claws to the chest. For a second, I couldn’t breathe. She hated me? My own twin? I stared at her, stunned, while something inside me cracked wide open, raw and bleeding.

If that’s how she felt… maybe I shouldn’t be here at all.

I shoved my chair back, the legs scraping across the hardwood like nails on a chalkboard. “Fine. If that’s what you want—I’ll leave.”

“Phoenix, where are you going?” Mom’s voice rose, sharp with panic, as I stormed toward the door.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The words lodged in my throat like shards of glass. I grabbed the car keys and kept walking, every step fueled by anger so hot it felt cold.

I didn’t hate Phoebe. Not really. But right now, I hated the way she could slice me open without even blinking.

The garage door slammed behind me like the final word in an argument I couldn’t win. I slid into the driver’s seat, my hands trembling as I started the engine. The roar filled the silence, drowning out Mom’s faint calls.

“I just need air,” I muttered, though no one could hear me—not even me.

Dad’s voice brushed against my mind through the link, demanding answers, but I slammed the door on that connection too. I couldn’t deal with him. Not now. I just needed to breathe before I shattered completely.

I hit the gas, peeling out of the driveway and tearing down the street like the devil was on my tail. The night air whipped past, cool and sharp, but it didn’t cool the burn inside me. Streetlights blurred into streaks of gold as my foot pressed harder, the speedometer climbing higher and higher until the numbers stopped meaning anything.

Faster. I needed faster. The city lights glimmered ahead, calling to me like a promise of escape.

Freedom tasted like wind in my lungs and danger humming through my veins.

A green light appeared at the next intersection. Perfect. I shifted gears and flew through it—

—and that’s when it happened.

A flash of metal. A deafening crash. The world spun violently, glass shattering like a rain of daggers. My seatbelt bit into my chest as pain ripped through my skull, stealing the breath from my lungs.

Everything blurred into chaos, then… nothing.

When I opened my eyes, everything was white. Too white. A sterile brightness that burned my eyes.

For a long moment, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Then the memories slammed back—the speed, the intersection, the impact…

But something felt wrong. Terribly, bone-deep wrong.

Nyxam was gone. The bond that had always been a steady hum in the back of my mind had vanished—silent now, like a dead signal.

I looked down at my hands—except they weren’t really there. They were see-through, faint, like smoke curling in sunlight. And across the room, on the hospital bed, lay my body. Wires, tubes, monitors. Pale. Still.

My breath caught—not that I was really breathing.

The door opened with a soft click, and a nurse stepped in. “Are you the family of Phoenix Matthews?” she asked.

Dad’s voice answered from somewhere behind me, deep and raw. I followed him, floating like a ghost, as he trailed the nurse into another room.

A doctor waited there, hands folded, eyes solemn. “Mr. Matthews,” he began gently, “please sit down.”

Dad didn’t. “How is my son?” His voice cracked on the last word.

The doctor sighed, each word that followed like nails in a coffin. “Phoenix suffered a severe brain injury and is in a coma. We stopped the bleeding, but… I can’t say when—or if—he’ll wake up.”

Dad’s face broke. Shattered. I’d never seen him look so destroyed.

“I understand, Doctor,” he whispered. “We’ll do everything we can.”

“Talk to him. Keep him surrounded by love. It can help,” the doctor said before slipping out, leaving silence behind.

I stood there, hollow, staring at my father—at the pain etched in his face, the weight in his shoulders. My wolf was gone. My body was broken. And I… whatever I was now… was stuck.

I sank to my knees, though the floor didn’t even feel real, my voice cracking like broken glass.

“Oh, Moon Goddess,” I whispered. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Because this… this wasn’t the life I wanted.