A/N
This story is unedited so apologies for grammatical and spelling errors if any.
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Zachary (POV)
I woke to the irksome sound of my cell phone ringing, dragging me from a heavy sleep. Groggy and disoriented, I fumbled for it. "One more Alpha," Ethan's voice came through, tense and clipped.
I shot up, my exhaustion evaporating in an instant. "What? Where?" Panic and confusion mingled in my tone, my mind racing.
"In his room, same as the others. His private parts are burned, and he was dried till death," Ethan's words were heavy with frustration and dread.
A cold shiver ran down my spine. "Any clues? Something... anything?" I grasped at straws, desperate for even the smallest lead.
"No, it's as if a ghost did it. No traces of any energy, no fingerprints, and no weapon. Nothing. Immaculate," he described, the gravity of the situation clear in every syllable.
A chill settled over me. "It's a magic holder."
Ethan's agreement was palpable even through the phone. "I think so too, but the brutality suggests it could be any of the species. What if two are working together?"
"Or maybe more," I suggested, the thought sending a wave of unease through me.
"Or maybe more," Ethan echoed, the weight of the possibility sinking in.
"Where's Ziwa?" I asked, needing to know if there had been any progress.
"With the investigators, trying to collect more info," Ethan replied.
"Have you found anything common among them?" I asked, hoping for a thread to pull at.
He sighed, frustration and exhaustion mingling in the sound. "Nothing. As of now, we're still investigating."
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. The killer-or killers-were meticulous, leaving no trace, no hint of their identity. We were dealing with something far more sinister and intelligent than we'd initially anticipated. My mind raced with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last.
Ethan's voice broke through my thoughts, a lifeline in the chaos. "We'll figure it out."
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "Keep me posted."
Hanging up, I sat there for a moment, my heart still pounding in my chest. The room felt suffocating, the weight of our situation pressing in from all sides. I had to find answers, had to protect those under my care. But with every step forward, it felt like the shadows were closing in, hiding secrets I wasn't yet ready to face.
An unwanted array of thoughts crept into my mind 'What if the prophecy has begun, Is somehow Fiora related to it
"Shut up, Zack. This is a psycho serial killer. What does this have to do with Fiora?" Theo's irritation was palpable, his voice sharp as he defended Fiora.
"Come on, Theo. Don't be blinded by love. Think about it-all these weird phenomena. Ziwa's kidnapping, rogues doubling their physical strength, their attacks becoming more organized. Our guards are clueless about what's happening around them. We can't pinpoint any magic holder because there are no traces of energy. But we all know these things are possible only by magic. Among us, only Fiora's magic is not fully understood." My tone was insistent, each point adding weight to his argument.
Theo's eyes blazed with anger, but I saw a flicker of doubt. His love for Fiora was unwavering, yet Zack's words had planted seeds of uncertainty.
"What are you thinking, Zack? Okay, let's hypothetically assume she's one of them. What's the motive behind it?" Theo countered, his voice tinged with frustration.
I paused, thinking deeply. "What if she isn't aware of it herself?" I suggested, trying to piece together the puzzle.
Theo's anger flared, his brows knitting together. "Now, what's that supposed to mean?"
"Hear me out. We saw how powerful her magic is, even at the beginner level. She still hasn't figured out how to control it. What if someone-or even she herself-is taking advantage of her situation? Maybe she's doing it without realizing it. Remember, we found her unconscious in her home. Did you notice her glowing purplish?" I said, my voice steady but filled with concern.
Theo's anger slowly ebbed, replaced by a contemplative look. "I did notice," he admitted reluctantly. "But that doesn't mean she's behind all this."
"Maybe not intentionally," I agreed. "But we can't ignore the possibility that her magic is somehow being manipulated or is acting on its own. We need to understand what's happening with her powers, for her sake and ours."
The room fell silent, each of us grappling with the implications of what had been said. The thought of Fiora being linked to these horrors was unbearable, yet the mounting evidence couldn't be ignored.
"We need to talk to her," Zack said finally, breaking the silence. "We need to understand her powers, what she's capable of, and how it might relate to everything that's happening."
Theo nodded reluctantly, his eyes filled with a mix of protectiveness and resignation. "Fine. But we approach this with care. Fiora is not our enemy."
Zack's expression softened, and he nodded in agreement.
With that troubling thought, I headed to Fiora's room, only to find it empty. The last time I saw her was at breakfast, and now it was almost three in the early morning. Exhaustion weighed heavily on me-I hadn't slept for four days straight. The empty room deepened my suspicion. Where could she be?
My heart pounded as I was about to reach out on the mind-link to contact her, but Theo stopped me
"Zack, can't we just trust her and not dig into this?" His voice was tight with concern, mirroring my own inner conflict.
"I want her to be innocent too," I replied, my voice laced with frustration and desperation.
Theo's agitation grew. "Can't we just tell her that she's our mate? That we'd never harm her? She needs to know she can rely on us for everything."
"Theo," I said, my voice heavy with the weight of responsibility, "do you think I'm enjoying this? I'm the King of Alphas, which would make her not only the Queen but also the Mother of the regime 'The Luna'. Do you think she's ready for these responsibilities? The one I should be relying on is the one I doubt the most, and that's the biggest irony of my life. Every time something bad happens, my mind instantly goes to her, whether or not she's involved. I'm tired of this too."
Theo's eyes softened, filled with a mixture of understanding and helplessness. The room fell into a heavy silence, each of us lost in our troubled thoughts. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Let's set my theory aside for now and focus on gathering whatever evidence we can."
Theo nodded slowly, though his eyes were filled with a mixture of hope and dread. The tension in the room was palpable. The truth, whatever it might be, had to be uncovered
Back at home, the familiar surroundings did little to ease my troubled mind. I changed into fresh clothes, but the ongoing investigation weighed heavily on my shoulders. As I walked into the living room, I found Ziwa waiting for me, her eyes filled with concern.
"Where were you, Zack? At Luna's place?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.
"Yes," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the storm of thoughts swirling in my head.
"How's she?" Ziwa's concern deepened, her brows knitting together.
"Alright," I said, just as Ethan entered the room, his presence adding a new layer of tension to the air.
"Luna seems to be enjoying her time here," Ethan remarked, his tone carrying a hint of sarcasm that only heightened the tension.
"Was that supposed to be sarcasm?" Ziwa's brows furrowed as she scrutinized him, her tone sharp.
"Not exactly," Ethan responded with a wry smile. "Luna and my wife have been together since yesterday at the Queen's place." He left the sentence hanging, inviting us to read between the lines.
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Theo's voice echoed in my mind, "If she was at the Queen's place, then she should be ruled out, right?"
"Hmm," I replied mentally, still uncertain but trying to maintain my composure.
Turning back to Ziwa and Ethan, I asked, "Any clues? Anything at all?"
Ethan shook his head, his expression grim. "No, Alpha."
"Nothing?" I repeated, raising my voice in frustration. They both looked at me, their faces reflecting my own helplessness.
"This is the fourth murder in a week, and we have no clues. How?" I demanded, my frustration boiling over and my fists clenching at my sides.
"There is no family connection, no common friends. Even their workplaces are different," Ethan explained, his voice steady but strained, as if trying to hold back his own frustration.
Ziwa added, "There's no clue. Even their places of visit are also very different-doctors visit, bars, restaurants, everything is different. There are no calls, but there's one stupid similarity. All of them are male chauvinists. Other than that, nothing."
"Had they been convicted of any offences against women? Even small ones will count," I asked, my mind racing to find some common thread.
"No, none of them were reported to any authorities... wait... do you think this could be the motive for the killings?" Ethan furrowed his brows, considering the possibility.
"We can't rule out any possibility," I said, my voice tinged with desperation as I tried to piece together the puzzle.
"But how could a shapeshifter offend magic holders?" Ziwa asked, her confusion mirrored on Ethan's face.
"Maybe they didn't. They offended someone else, and this was an act of vengeance," I suggested, my mind working furiously to make sense of the situation.
"But how? For a second, let's assume it's revenge. All of them are unrelated. How could they have offended the same person?" Ethan questioned, his scepticism evident.
"This is what we have to investigate," I concluded, feeling the pressure mounting and the weight of responsibility pressing down on me.
"Let's divide the work. I'll seek out what kind of magic could be used that leaves no traces," I instructed, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation.
"Ethan, revisit the crime scene. Look for anything we might have missed, and dig deeper into the details," I instructed, my tone sharp with urgency.
"On it, Alpha," Ethan replied with a determined nod.
Turning to Ziwa, I continued, "Ziwa, investigate our theory about the offences. See if you can find any patterns or similar incidents. And make sure Crystallin (people who come under Zack's regime) stays safe."
"Understood," Ziwa said, her eyes reflecting the same determination.
We all dispersed to our respective duties, each of us carrying the heavy burden of the unresolved murders. I made my way to the university to meet an old professor, a renowned expert in magic holders and one of the most knowledgeable individuals in the field.
Arriving at her office, I knocked gently. "May I come in, Professor?"
"Ah!" she exclaimed with delight upon seeing me. "Zackary Theo Crystal, my child! How long has it been? How are you?" She pulled me into a warm hug, her embrace filled with genuine affection.
"I'm fine, Professor, just swamped with duties," I replied, feeling a brief moment of comfort in her presence.
She scrutinized me with a keen eye. "It's hard, isn't it? You look exhausted. Have you been sleeping well?"
"Not really," I admitted, the fatigue washing over me as I spoke.
"Ahh! What? Why? You shouldn't neglect your health like this. It's not good for you or your position," she chided gently.
"I'm not just tired, Professor. There's a lot on my plate these days," I said, trying to convey the gravity of the situation.
"You've become so thin... my poor child," she said, holding my hand gently. "Have you eaten anything?"
"I haven't had the time," I confessed, feeling a pang of hunger as I spoke.
"Let's go home. I'll make you something to eat," she offered, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"No, Professor, I'm fine. I came here to ask for your help with something very important," I insisted.
"First, we'll go home and get you something to eat. Then, we'll discuss whatever you need," she said firmly.
Reluctantly, I agreed, knowing that arguing with her was futile. As we walked to her home, a mix of exhaustion and relief washed over me. Despite the urgency of the situation, a small part of me welcomed the brief respite and the chance to gather my thoughts in a place of warmth and familiarity.
Once at her home, she busied herself in the kitchen, preparing a simple yet hearty meal. The smell of freshly cooked food filled the air, momentarily pushing away the stress and fatigue that had been my constant companions.
"Here, eat this," she said, placing a plate in front of me. "Then we can talk."
I nodded, grateful for her care, and began to eat. The warmth of the food slowly revitalized me, giving me the strength I needed to discuss the critical issues at hand.
"Thank you, Professor," I said after finishing the meal. "Now, I need your help. There have been a series of murders, and we suspect magic might be involved."
Her expression turned serious, all traces of her earlier warmth replaced by the focus of a seasoned expert. "Tell me everything," she said, her voice firm and commanding.
I recounted the details of the murders, the lack of clues, and our theory about the potential connection to offences against women. She listened intently, her eyes narrowing as she processed the information.
"This is troubling," she said finally. "The absence of energy traces is unusual, suggesting a very ancient magic holder. But if your theory about the offences is correct, we might be dealing with someone driven by a deeply personal motive."
"Exactly," I said. "But how can we identify them? And why would they target seemingly unrelated individuals?"
"That's something you need to find. I can help only with the magic part," she said.
"That's what I'm here for, Professor," I replied earnestly.
She slowly rose from her seat and headed to the library at her home. "Hmm... let me see where I've kept that book..." She scanned the shelves, her fingers lightly brushing over the spines of numerous ancient tomes. "Ah! Here it is," she exclaimed, pulling out a thick, heavy book.
I rushed to help her as it looked cumbersome. "Oh boy, it's really heavy," I said, straining under its weight.
She gave me a knowing smile and, with a flick of her hand, made the book float effortlessly. "Ah, how could I forget she's a magic holder herself?" I thought to myself, feeling a bit sheepish.
She guided the book to the table, where it settled gently. "This should have the information we need," she said, opening it to a section filled with intricate diagrams and ancient runes.
I watched her closely, admiring the ease with which she handled the powerful magic. "Thank you, Professor," I said, my voice filled with genuine gratitude.
"It's my pleasure, Alpha!" she exclaimed, smiling brightly at me.
Her expression then turned more serious. "There's good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.
"Good news first," I replied, bracing myself.
"There are definitely magic holders who can leave no traces of their magic," she said.
"And?" I prompted, curiosity piqued.
"That's it," she said, her tone turning grave. "The good news ends there."
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. "So, what's the bad news?"
"This magic is incredibly rare and the one who could use it is highly skilled. Identifying one, let alone tracking him/her, is going to be exceptionally difficult. They are often well-versed in ancient and forbidden practices, making them elusive and dangerous," she explained, her brows furrowing with worry.
My mind raced with the implications. "How do we even begin to find someone like that?" I asked, feeling the weight of the task ahead.
She sighed, closing the book gently. "We'll need to delve deeper into historical records, study any ancient texts that might give us a clue. It won't be easy, Zackary, but it's not impossible."
I nodded, determination hardening my resolve. "Then let's get started. Every second counts."
As I watched the Professor move slowly, I couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. Time had transformed her from the energetic woman who once chased me around as a child into someone who moved with deliberate care. It was a stark reminder of how quickly time flew by-children growing into adults, adults becoming elderly. In our pursuit of quests and ambitions, we often overlooked the attention and care our elders needed. I wondered if my parents, had they been alive, would be like her now, despite their once active lifestyle. My foster parents still led active lives, so I never fully grasped this reality until now. Guilt washed over me; I should have been more attentive to her needs rather than only seeking her out in times of trouble. I made a mental note to visit her every week, no matter how busy I was.
"Professor, just tell me. I'll find it," I said, feeling a twinge of guilt.
"You won't be able to do it alone. Moreover, you'll take forever to find it," she replied, her voice calm and steady as she walked toward her library.
I watched in awe as she gathered her energy, and all the books in her vast library began to float in the air. Let me paint a picture for you: her library wasn't a small room as you'd find in most houses; it was a grand hall, almost like a cathedral of knowledge, filled with an uncountable number of books.
With a wave of her hands and a few murmured spells, the books started coming to her, one by one. Those that might hold potential were set aside, while the others floated back to their places. The scene was mesmerizing, the books moving gracefully through the air, almost as if they were alive.
"Only one hundred and fifty books contain information about magic that leaves no traces," the professor said, her eyes twinkling with a knowing smile.
I glanced from her to the towering stack of books. It was at least two and a half times my height, and I stood six feet two inches tall. The sheer volume was overwhelming.
Seeing my daunted expression, she chuckled softly. "Come on now, if we begin immediately, we might finish in two to three days."
"Two to three days?" I echoed, incredulous. "Professor, it's going to take forever to finish even one of these."
"Good then," she said with a playful glint in her eye. "Let's start early."
I sighed, resigned to the task ahead, and followed her as the enormous stack floated in the air behind us. We entered the living area, where the books settled themselves neatly at one end of the table. The professor sat comfortably on the couch, a book floating before her, already open. She began to read and gestured for me to do the same.
I walked over to the massive pile, pulled out a book, and carried it to my seat, turning the pages manually. I shot the professor a look, and she laughed out loud.
"You'll get used to it," she teased.
"Easy for you to say," I muttered, settling in for what promised to be a long and tedious task.
Hours passed in silence, punctuated only by the rustling of pages and the occasional murmur from the professor as she found something of interest. Despite the daunting nature of the task, there was a certain comfort in the quiet companionship, the shared purpose.
As I read, I couldn't help but reflect on how much things had changed. Once so vibrant and full of energy, the professor moved with a slower grace. Yet, her mind remained as sharp as ever, her command of magic awe-inspiring.
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A/N
Word count:- 3100
Hello, my lovely readers, I hope you all are doing well
Here, is the 35th chapter of my book
I hope you all liked it and have a great day ahead
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bye:)
Until next time
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Date:- 04/07/2024