A/N

This story is unedited so apologies for grammatical and spelling errors if any.

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Zackary (POV)

Ziwa's eyes fluttered open, and she slowly sat up, her voice heavy with sleep. "Zack," she murmured, disoriented.

"Yes, I'm here." My voice was low as I took her hands in mine, trying to convey reassurance through my touch.

"Where am I?" she asked, her forehead creased in confusion.

"You're in your room, Ziwa," I said, my brows furrowing. "Don't you recognize it?"

She looked around, her eyes scanning the familiar surroundings. "Oh, Zack," she sighed, pressing her palms against her face. "It feels like I've woken up from a very long nightmare."

"It's okay, you're safe now," I said, though my voice still carried the weight of my concern.

She hummed in acknowledgement, but her brow furrowed. "But how did you find me?"

My confusion deepened. "Found you?"

She nodded, her expression resolute. "I was captured by a man with dark curly hair."

My frown deepened. "The magic holder... black and blue... it glowed," she squinted as if trying to remember more clearly.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, utterly bewildered.

"Zack, you saved me from somewhere, right?" she said more calmly, trying to piece together her fragmented memories.

"No, we were at Amba's palace," I answered, my forehead still creased with confusion.

"Zack, how could I have been at the Queen's palace? I went for an inspection at the border, and then this man captured me and transferred a small ball of black-blue energy into me." She started trembling visibly, her eyes darting around the room in fear.

"Ziwa! Calm down," I said, squeezing her hands reassuringly. "I trust you. We'll figure out what's going on... but you need to rest for now." I gave her some water and gently laid her back on the bed. Then, I called the pack doctors. They examined her and said it was due to exhaustion, prescribing some mild sedatives before leaving.

"Fiora... Fiora..." I mind-linked her, my thoughts frantic.

"Yes, Zack?" she responded immediately.

"Contact Amba and ask her to come to the mansion as soon as possible," I said, my voice devoid of emotion.

"What happened?" she asked, worry clear in her tone. But my frustration boiled over, and I raised my voice. "Just do it, Fiora!"

Fiora complied immediately, and the Queen arrived within two minutes. I quickly briefed her on what had happened, and she wasted no time in examining Ziwa. Fiora entered shortly after, but I was too focused on the situation to acknowledge her. There was so much I needed to discuss with her, but the urgency of the moment left no room for personal conversations.

I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders as Amba finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity. "She's a direct descendant of Samrath Viraj's family, also known as Samragyi Ina's husband... This explains her compatibility with the male part of Ebon." Amba continued to hold Ziwa's hand, her expression focused and serious.

A few moments later, she spoke again, her voice calm yet reassuring. "Her body is adjusting to the amount of energy left. That's why she's in this state. Don't worry, she'll be alright." Samragyi then moved towards Fiora, standing quietly in the corner of the room.

I couldn't fathom the reason for Fiora's actions, nor was I in a state to question her. My mind was consumed with worry for Ziwa, my only family, and the chaos I had unwittingly contributed to. The responsibilities I had pushed onto Ziwa weighed heavily on me. If only I could explain everything to her, but the words seemed impossible to form amid this turmoil.

Samragyi quietly asked Fiora if she was doing well. My heightened hearing picked up their conversation, even though I wished I could avoid eavesdropping. Fiora must have nodded in response since I didn't hear her speak.

"Woah, you can use Chittasandhi?" Amba asked, her voice tinged with surprise.

"Chittasandhi?" Fiora echoed, equally stunned.

"Hmm, Chittasandhi it means telepathy it's incredibly rare magic," Amba explained, her tone serious. "In the entire history of Etherean, there were only two known individuals who could use it to communicate. One acquired it naturally, and the other had an exceptionally strong spiritual element.....  How are you able to use it?"

"I don't know. It just happens," Fiora replied, her confusion evident in her voice.

"Can I talk to anyone through this telepathy?" Fiora asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Anyone?" Amba asked, still puzzled.

"Yes, like if you're at a distance, could you still communicate with me?"

"Darling, it's a one-way communication. No one can reply to you," Amba clarified gently.

Fiora's confusion was evident in her voice as she continued "But I can talk to Father through this telepathy, like two-way" her voice lowering, though I could still hear her. "And Zack too."

Amba's expression grew more serious. "Have you completed the mating ritual with Zack?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. I didn't hear Fiora speak

Amba's voice was heavy with regret as she spoke. "Then I'm not sure what more I can do. I'm so sorry, child. If only we had Samragyi's documents, I might have been able to help more." Her voice was filled with genuine empathy, reflecting her deep care for her people and her earnest desire to resolve their troubles.

Fiora managed a small, understanding smile. "It's alright, Samragyi.......I never blamed you,... Moreover, when no one else was there, you were. Your people might have been a bit hostile at times, but I don't remember you mistreating me. And, honestly, now,  I have someone who believes in me completely, even if I claim to have seen an alien," she said with a quiet laugh.

Amba's eyes softened at Fiora's words. "Marcus, oh! marcus... He hasn't changed even a bit he was the same with Arna. He trusted her completely. Sometimes, Arna would take advantage of that trust—not to harm him, of course, but for pranks and such. Ah, the old days... The palace was so lively back then. My husband and I..." She trailed off, her emotions catching in her throat.

"What happened next?" Fiora asked, her curiosity piqued.

Amba chuckled softly, her eyes distant with memory. "My husband and I were like foster parents to those kids. Your mother was quite notorious, and your father, though a brainy beta but a simple-minded man, often fell for Arna's tricks and those serious and brainy quintessential you see now were once just as mischievous and naïve. They used to tease each other endlessly, misuse their powers, and run around the palace causing chaos. I frequently received complaints from the older members of the assembly about how these kids were unfit for the responsibilities of their roles. Now, those same members miss the energy and vivacity they brought to the palace."

She smiled wistfully, her laughter mingling with a touch of sadness. "Oh, those were the days," she said, her voice trailing off as she lost herself in the fond memories.

A smile tugged at my lips as Amba's stories brought back my own memories. I couldn't help but reminisce about the days when Ziwa, Loban, and I would pull off ridiculous pranks, only to be scolded by our teachers and parents. The phrase "You're not fit to be a king or queen" became our permanent tag, one that we wore with a strange sense of pride.

Fiora's voice broke the nostalgic silence. "What happened to your husband?" she asked, her tone filled with genuine sympathy.

Amba's expression darkened as she recounted her painful past. "He got Dreamweaver's Malady," she began, her voice trembling. "It's a condition where the afflicted unintentionally enters the dreams of others, gradually losing their own sanity in the process. We have a cure now, but back then... I could only watch him descend into madness, losing more of himself every day."

Her voice faltered, and I could hear the tears that she was struggling to hold back. "Even as he slipped away, he never forgot me. In his final days, he stayed away, locking himself in rooms to protect me from his condition. But just before he passed, he hugged me tightly and whispered, 'I'm sorry, and I love you more than anything in this world.' Then... he died in my arms."

The soft sniffles turned into quiet, heart-wrenching sobs. I finally turned toward them, intending to comfort our strong Queen, but Fiora was already there, holding Amba gently, offering her silent support.

After a few moments, Amba pulled herself together, wiping her tears. "huh! The bittersweet memories..... What are we even talking about?" she said, trying to brush off the emotional moment. But Fiora, persistent as always, asked with a small smile, "You never did tell us how your comrades became so sensible."

Amba giggled softly, a small spark of joy returning to her eyes. "They changed after watching Arna and Marcus, they were their idol...Fortunately, Marcus is alive, but for a long time, we believed he was gone too. There wasn't a specific day or moment—it just happened slowly. Their personalities evolved, and so did their bond with each other and me."

Her voice softened as she spoke, the weight of her memories still present but now accompanied by a sense of peace. "Time and shared pain do that—they transform us, sometimes in ways we don't even notice until much later."

"Should we arrange a reunion for my father and your comrades?"  Fiora suggested, her voice carrying a hint of excitement.

Our strong queen let out a light-hearted giggle. "You think they'll wait for you? I can bet they've already planned their own reunion. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, they're probably in your house right now, creating chaos."

Fiora's brows knitted in confusion."From what I've observed, my father is a serious man, They've been apart for more than twenty years—they must be hesitant to talk to each other."

I couldn't help but smile at her innocence. Amba, however, was amused. "Darling, that's the beauty of their relationship. It runs deeper than the years they've spent apart. And if you don't believe me, go and check for yourself—but don't forget your spells for the magic veil. You remember them, right?"

Fiora's face fell slightly. "I don't know. Nobody taught me that."

Amba let out a heavy sigh, then gently instructed, "Repeat after me." She guided Fiora through the incantation, her tone patient and reassuring. After a few moments, Fiora quickly mastered it, opened a portal, and vanished, leaving me alone with Amba and Ziwa, who remained unconscious.

The room settled into an uncomfortable silence, thick and heavy until Amba finally spoke. "So, you're not going to talk to her?" Her tone was pointed, her gaze direct.

"About what?" I replied, my voice flat, trying to deflect the question.

"Don't play games with me, Zack. You know exactly what I'm talking about," she countered, her voice tinged with a scolding edge.

I remained silent, unsure of what to say. Amba walked over, placing her hands on my shoulders. "I know it's difficult, and it always will be," she said, her voice softening. "I'll support you in whatever decision you make,..... but serving people from the highest authority for over a hundred years has taught me that you can't stop what's meant to happen... You can only control the situation when you're in it."

"What's wrong with being cautious?" I snapped, frustration bubbling up, tired of hearing the same advice over and over again. "I don't understand what's so wrong with wanting to be cautious and protect the people you love ahead of time."

"Nothing," she replied, her voice calm yet firm. "There's nothing wrong with protecting those you care about. But there's a difference between protection and imprisonment....You can always keep a butterfly, a bird, or a person behind bars to keep them safe, but there are only two outcomes: they'll either break free one day and never return, or they'll accept their fate and become weak, vulnerable to any threat."

She sighed deeply, turning me to face her. "Your love is like those bars—restrictive. Your concern isn't baseless, but you need to understand that people, especially those you love, have to make mistakes to learn. They have to experience pain to understand why they need to avoid it. If you want to protect those around you, let them be close to you. Let them—or should I say 'her'—decide what she wants. Don't make that decision for her."

"But what if I let her in and she betrays me?" My voice cracked, the fear I'd been holding back finally spilling out. "What if she destroys everything I've built? Amba... I... I don't have the strength to start all over again."

Amba smiled gently, her eyes full of understanding. "And what if she ends up protecting you? What if she's the one destined to be your shield? There's an old saying in Etherea: every beginning starts with something ending. It's the law of life. We could debate this endlessly, but it won't change anything..... The worst that could happen is you'll find one more person you can't trust. But that's what makes you a leader; that's why people put their faith in you. If sixteen-year-old Zack could survive, I bet twenty-four-year-old Zack is even stronger."

Her confidence in me brought a small smile to my face. "You trust me more than I trust myself."

She chuckled, her expression shifting from caring to playful mockery. "I may not say it often, but I've watched you grow up, Never did I think I'd end up crying in your arms. You're way stronger than you think, child"  Then, with a sudden change in tone, she added, "And I've been meaning to say this for a long time as well—I'm way older than you! Where are your honorifics? How dare you call me by my name?"

"Amba," I teased, unable to resist.

She raised an eyebrow, feigning indignation. "That's Samragyi to you, young man."

We both laughed, the tension in the room easing just a little.

"Will you talk to her now?" Amba's voice was gentle, but her eyes held a firm expectation.

I hesitated, the weight of the question pressing down on me. "I don't even know where to start... or what to say. And besides, I think she likes Theo more than me. If we were in different bodies, she'd probably tell Theo everything."

Amba's eyes twinkled with a mix of amusement and understanding. "I won't argue with that, but maybe you should ask her directly. And honestly, Zack, you might be intimidating her a bit, while Theo—he's all affection whenever he gets the chance," she teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes, though a small smile crept onto my face. "I'm Zachary, not Theo," I insisted, my voice tinged with a bit of defensiveness.

"And she treats you as Zack, not Theo," Amba shot back, her tone softening as she saw the truth of her words sink in.

She was right, of course. It wasn't common for mates to differentiate between their partner's wolf and human sides, but in this case, it was strangely comforting. It meant that in her eyes, I was unique, someone separate from Theo. And as much as I loved Theo, I was my own person, with my own needs, my own identity.

Silence hung between us for a moment, thick with unspoken thoughts, until Amba spoke again. "So...?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

I feigned ignorance. "What?"

She sighed, exasperated but persistent. "So, are you going to talk to her or not?"

A deep breath escaped me as I nodded. "I will."

Amba's eyes lit up with excitement. "Great! Let's go!"

"Not now... later," I said, trying to calm her enthusiasm.

Her excitement dimmed slightly as she looked at me, puzzled. "Why?"

"Because Ziwa needs me right now, and—" But before I could finish, Ziwa stirred her voice to a low mumble as she began to wake up.

Amba and I turned toward her, our gazes fixed as we watched her slowly come to. She blinked a few times, her expression one of confusion mixed with amusement as she took us in. "Guys, relax. I'm alive," she said, her voice groggy but carrying a hint of her usual sarcasm.

Relief washed over me, and I could see the same in Amba's eyes as we both exhaled deeply. Ziwa stretched, shaking off the remnants of sleep, and Amba was immediately at her side, her concern evident. "How are you feeling, my dear?"

Ziwa smiled, a brightness in her eyes that had been missing for far too long. "I feel... light like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders," she said, her voice tinged with a mix of surprise and relief.

Amba nodded, her worry easing slightly, while I leaned forward, my voice gentle but urgent. "Do you remember anything? What happened to you?"

Ziwa's expression darkened, her eyes narrowing as she tried to piece together her memories. "Not everything, but enough," she began, her voice hardening with anger. "That son of a bi***... he tricked me, took me away with his dirty tricks, and used me like some kind of tool. I've got all this information, but it's like it's locked away—I can't remember any of it! F***ing hell, it's driving me insane!" Each word was laced with fury, her frustration spilling over.

Amba and I couldn't help but share a glance before bursting into laughter, the tension in the room easing just a little. "My Ziwa is back," I said, relief and affection in my voice.

Ziwa's eyes flashed as she rounded on me, her tone sharp. "You motherf***ing moron! How could you not notice the difference in my behaviour?"

"Woah, calm down!" I raised my hands in mock surrender, trying to keep the situation from escalating. "I did notice, but I thought it was just work stress or maybe the pressure from investigating the murder."

At the mention of the murder, Ziwa's demeanour shifted dramatically. Her face paled, and she began repeating the word, "Murder... murder... Zack... murder..." Her breathing quickened, turning shallow and ragged.

"Amba, get her some water!" I said urgently. Amba moved quickly, bringing a glass of water to Ziwa, who took it with trembling hands, trying to steady her breathing. After a few deep breaths, she managed to speak again, her voice strained but determined.

"Zack, Loban didn't betray us. He was under that curly-haired man's spell... He hasn't left this world; he's trapped inside that bastard. Loban... he's the one holding him back, stopping him from creating even more chaos," Ziwa's voice quivered with a mix of fear and resolve, her eyes wide with the weight of what she was saying.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," I said, my confusion evident.

Amba's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Maybe I do," she said, drawing our attention. We both looked at her, waiting for her to elaborate. "Perhaps... Ebon was losing his powers, growing weaker. To stabilize himself, he needed the agony of genocide. Somewhere along the line, he must have encountered Loban. Sensing his vulnerability, he likely captured Loban and fed on his energy. But maybe that wasn't enough, so he used Loban as a pawn to incite more chaos. But if Loban was strong-willed, he might have fought back and gotten trapped inside him, stopping him from further murder."

Amba's eyes widened as the realization dawned on her. "That could explain why he's now using both women's emotions to fuel his thirst for power... Oh! That makes so much sense," she murmured, more to herself than to us.

Ziwa's eyes lit up with a flicker of hope. "Does that mean Loban was innocent?" she asked, her voice tinged with desperation, while I remained silent, caught between scepticism and a faint, unnameable hope.

Amba's expression softened, but her voice remained measured. "I'm just speculating, looking at the brighter side. There's a possibility he sought revenge and willingly joined forces with Ebon. Maybe they planned it all, but Loban wasn't as strong as you, Zack and was defeated by you getting trapped inside Ebon as a result."

Ziwa's hope faltered, but she persisted. "Then why is he stopping the murders?"

"Maybe he isn't," Amba suggested, her tone more contemplative than certain. "It's possible their energies are simply incompatible, clashing in a way that prevents either from reaching their full potential....... and that theory could explain Why he needed You as a spy"

A heavy silence fell over the room, thick with unspoken fears and unacknowledged possibilities. After what felt like an eternity, Ziwa turned to me, her voice breaking the quiet. "Where's Luna?"

"She's with her father," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

Ziwa's eyes narrowed. "Her parents came all this way, and you're sitting here?"

"No, They're at their place," I clarified, seeing the confusion on her face. "Fiora's real father." My words hung in the air, and I avoided her gaze, adding, "It's a long story."

Ziwa didn't seem to buy it. "I don't understand. She clarified everything at the Queen's place. Don't you want to make a good first impression on him?"

Guilt churned in my stomach, twisting into knots. "I don't want to leave you alone again. I won't push any more of my responsibilities onto you," I said, my voice laden with guilt.

Ziwa paused, then with a smirk, she said, "I knew you were ugly, but I didn't know you were dumb too. If I'm not going to handle your responsibilities, then who is? Your unborn child? With a brain like yours, I don't see it being born." She turned to Amba, her tone mischievous. "Wanna bet Luna will be the first to propose and confess her love?"

I growled, mockingly offended. "That's offensive."

"Then be a man, talk to her father, and propose!" Ziwa shot back, matching my intensity.

The challenge in her words ignited something in me, and I stood up, determination hardening my resolve. "Fine," I said, ready to prove her wrong.

As I turned to leave, Ziwa's voice cut through the air, stern and commanding. "Zackary Theo Crystal," she called, using my full name with an authority that demanded attention. "Fiora is meant to be our Luna. If you can't trust her, then free her. The mate bond hurts her as much as it hurts you. If you love her, say it—otherwise, reject her and let her go."

Then, with a sudden shift, her voice softened into a teasing lilt. "And don't forget to give me a handsome thank-you gift later."

A little irritated, I leaned in and smirked. "You know what? I was holding back because you weren't feeling well, but since you're up and about, I think it's time for some truth. You look like a cow on a strict diet—if that cow had somehow developed an alarming addiction to Pilates."

Her eyes widened, but I continued, unfazed. "And that expression you've got—probably think it's mysterious and alluring, huh? Well, hate to break it to you, but it looks more like you're trying to hold in a sneeze. As for those cheekbones? They're so sharp, that you might be storing nuts for the winter. Model-worthy, you call them? Rodent-adjacent is more like it."

I could see her starting to sputter, but I wasn't done. "And that sultry pose of yours? More 'awkward giraffe' than 'graceful swan.' Your legs are so long and spindly that they look like you borrowed them from a stork. And don't even get me started on your arms—stick-thin, but with elbows so pointy you could chisel stone. Honestly, you're like a walking, talking geometry lesson, with more angles than a protractor."

She stared at me, dumbfounded, still trying to process what just happened. Taking advantage of her silence, I softened my tone. "Still, I love you and want to protect you, see you happy and carefree all your life. As your brother, I thought I was doing a marvellous job, but I forgot that you have your own life to live. I tried to control every step you took, and for that, I'm sorry. I'll try to be better, I promise, and Thank you for everything you did for me"

I leaned in and placed a light kiss on her forehead before turning to leave her room.

A few moments later, I heard her voice behind me, finally comprehending what had just happened. "Ewwww... ewwww... ewwww! Zackary Theo Crystal, you're a fuc*** dead man!" she screamed.

I couldn't help but laugh as I walked away, ready to make things right with Fiora's father.

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A/N

Word count:- 3900

Hello, my lovely readers, I hope you all are doing well

Here, is the 43rd chapter of my book

I hope you all liked it and have a great day ahead

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Thank you

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bye:)

Until next time

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Date:- 10/08/2024