A/N
This story is unedited so apologies for grammatical and spelling errors if any.
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Fiora (POV)
Samragyi and their comrades finally took a much-needed respite. We collectively decided they would take a break for two entire days, free from any stress or obligations.
Before Zack asked me to come earlier, I had reached out to the old man, only to discover he was out of town. That's the only reason we didn't visit him. During this time, I also learned something astonishing: I am among the few known individuals to possess all five elements without formal training.
Now, I'm at home, feeling restless. Zack has gone off somewhere, leaving me alone with my thoughts. My mind is a whirlwind of concerns, from what I would say to Ebon, to the unknown future, and countless other anxieties.
Suddenly, my thoughts drifted to the mysterious woman I had encountered at the waterfall. I replayed our entire conversation in my head, and then I heard a voice. "Hello?" I turned around, utterly shocked to see her standing behind me. She was draped in a white dress adorned with gold, and she was soaking wet.
"How did you get into my house?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of shock, disturbance, and a hint of fear.
"I don't know," she replied, equally bewildered. "I was bathing at the waterfall, and the next moment, I'm here."
"All I did was think about you," I said innocently, still trying to grasp the situation.
She rotated her wrist, forming a translucent barrier around herself where she began to change. "Do you have something to dry my hair?" she asked, her voice calm despite the circumstances.
"Yes, I do," I replied, quickly going inside to fetch a towel and a hairdryer. When I handed her the towel, she looked curiously at the hairdryer. "What's that?" she inquired.
"That's a hairdryer," I explained, demonstrating how to use it.
"wow!" she exclaimed "Manipulators have really come a long way" she said
"here, take it" I said passing the dryer to her
"Amm! Let me show you a better way," she said with a playful smile. Twisting her finger in a circular motion, she created a small whirlwind. It gently wrapped around her long, beautiful black hair, and within minutes, her hair was dried, forming soft curls. She then summoned a few brushes, which floated around her, combing her hair out. Next, she conjured a small smoke lamp and infused it with a fragrant essence, letting the aromatic smoke envelop her hair.
"What's that for?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"Aroma," she replied with a hint of amusement. "Who wants their hair to smell bad?"
She then took four or five drops of a mysterious oil and expertly slathered it through her hair. I was astonished that such a small quantity was sufficient for her luxuriant locks. Now, her hair had a radiant, glossy sheen. With practised ease, she styled it by braiding half of her hair and leaving the rest loose, adding delicate pieces of jewellery to complete the look.
"Wow! That's a lot of steps," I exclaimed, feeling a mix of amazement and disbelief.
She giggled, her laughter like a tinkling bell. "These are just the aftercare steps. I have even more for before washing."
"Then how do you manage your work?" I asked, intrigued by her elaborate routine.
"We used to do it once a week, not on a regular basis," she replied with a nonchalant shrug.
"Hmm..." I murmured, starting to understand her approach.
"Come here, let me see why you were able to summon me like that," she said, her voice gentle yet curious.
I was sceptical. "Will it hurt?" I asked, my anxiety creeping into my voice.
"No, not at all," she reassured me. "Neither will it hurt nor will it harm you. I know I'm a stranger, but if you can summon me, I'm most definitely not your enemy." She extended her hand towards me, inviting me to trust her at my will.
My thoughts were scattered, and I didn't know what to do. After a few minutes of staring at her outstretched hand, I finally took it. She gently pulled me into a light, muddy bubble. She stood at a distance from me, rubbing her palms together. A bluish-black radiance emanated from her hands, striking a chord within me. I felt an inexplicable familiarity with this kind of glow as if I had seen it somewhere before.
She took my hands very gently, closing her eyes. The line where one would apply eyeliner began to glow with a royal light blue hue. Her expression shifted through a spectrum of emotions: confusion, sadness, worry, and finally, a calm, stern resolve. When she opened her eyes, she let go of my hands, causing the bubble around us to disappear.
She looked at me with an emptiness in her eyes, holding an expression that I interpreted as guilt, though it could have been something else. "So, what did you get to know?" I asked, trying to break the silence.
Smiling softly, she said, "I'm your fairy godmother."
"I'm not a child to believe that," I replied sternly, pouting a little, feeling treated like a child.
"Why would I lie to you? I'm a fairy; I can do magic," she responded calmly.
"So can I, but I'm a magic holder, not a fairy," I retorted, my scepticism evident.
"Hmm," she paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "I see, so you don't believe me," she said, stepping back to maintain some distance. "If you are a magic holder, then can you do this?"
She clapped her hands and summoned a well-crafted, intricately carved stick that emitted a purplish glow. Its handle was adorned with a clear crystal. With a twist, it emitted a series of sparkling lights, encircling her. Her clothing transformed into a regal white drape, complemented by rose gold jewellery. Most astonishingly, a pair of large wings fanned out behind her.
Their beauty was breathtaking, shimmering with an ethereal glow. Each feather was a delicate marvel, iridescent and translucent, reflecting a spectrum of colours that danced with every movement. The wings were expansive, arching gracefully with a subtle curve, their tips trailing a soft luminescence.
The feathers themselves were intricately patterned, with veins of gold and silver threading through the opalescent surfaces, creating an almost hypnotic effect. As the wings unfurled, they revealed a hidden layer of soft, downy feathers beneath, a rich contrast to the sleek outer layer.
When the wings caught the light, they sparkled as if dusted with the finest stardust, casting a gentle glow that illuminated the surrounding area. The edges of the wings seemed to blur, as if woven from the very fabric of dreams, exuding an otherworldly elegance that captivated all who beheld them.
I was shocked, placing my hands over my mouth. "Are they real?"
"Yes, of course. See for yourself," she said, extending one wing toward me.
"Oh! It's so soft," I whispered in awe. I could feel the bones shaping the wing and instinctively grabbed onto it like it was a pillow, nuzzling against it.
"Now, do you believe me?" my godmother asked, her voice gentle and reassuring.
"I do," I said chirpily, still nestled against her wing.
"What do I call you?" I asked, my voice muffled as I continued to nuzzle against the incredibly soft feathers.
"Grandmother," she replied.
I looked up at her, surprised. "Grandma? Why? You don't look like one."
"But I am," she insisted, her eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and sincerity.
I thought for a moment and then said, "Okay, Glamma," giggling. She brought her other wing toward me, tickling me lightly. "What's that?" I laughed, the sound filling the room.
"It's a combination of glamorous and grandma," I explained. She smiled warmly and tickled me even more.
Despite my usual dislike of being treated like a child, I couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and comfort. In front of beings who were hundreds of years old, I was still very much a child, and at this moment, that felt perfectly okay.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
"What is your name, child?" she asked, her voice gentle and soothing.
"Fiora," I replied, not wanting to leave the comforting embrace of her wing. "Can I pull them back?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with understanding.
At first, I made faces and sounds of disapproval, clinging to the softness. But eventually, very reluctantly, I let go, still upset about not having them near me.
"Do you have any wishes that I can fulfil?" she asked, her voice as melodious as ever.
"Will you leave me after that?" I asked, a hint of worry creeping into my voice.
"No, silly, why would I?" she reassured me warmly. "It's just that I'm not much of a talker. I love remaining silent, reading books, travelling, playing with kids, gardening, and cooking food. So, I don't always know how to have a proper conversation to get to know you better."
"Can I ask questions then? This way, we both will be able to get familiar with each other," I proposed.
She nodded her head, her eyes softening with approval. "Of course, Fiora. Ask away."
"Were you...?" I began, but my stomach grumbled loudly, cutting me off.
"Hungry?" she asked with a gentle smile, and I nodded sheepishly. "Where's the kitchen?"
"It's okay, I'll order something," I said, picking up my phone.
She looked puzzled, her brow furrowing. "You have servants?"
"No," I replied, equally confused by her question.
"But you just said you'll order it and pulled out that thing," she pointed at my phone, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"Oh! This is a phone. You can order food from any nearby restaurant, and they'll deliver it to you," I explained, starting to place my order.
I sensed her moving closer and turned to see her peering curiously over my shoulder at the phone. I couldn't help but smile at her fascination. "Done," I said, stretching after completing the order.
"When will the food arrive?" she asked, her interest piqued.
"In about twenty minutes," I replied.
"Where's your sundial?" she asked, glancing around the room.
"Sundial?" I echoed, perplexed.
"You don't have one? How will you know what time it is?" she asked, genuinely baffled.
I pulled out my phone again and showed her the screen. "Like this."
"You have a sundial on this thing? Waah!" Her expression of astonishment was priceless.
Seeing her reaction to modern technology was delightful. While we waited for the delivery, I explained more about what the phone could do, revelling in her amazement.
"Do you want to watch a drama?" I asked, eager to show her even more wonders of my world.
"You have a theatre here?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. "I love theatre!"
"Yes," I replied, grinning. I led her to the home theatre room, where she took a seat with regal poise.
"Isn't this room too small for a theatre performance? How will so many artists fit in here?" she asked, her concern evident as she looked around, baffled.
"What people?" I asked, intrigued by her confusion.
"The theatre artists, the performers, their crew," she explained, her voice tinged with worry.
I smiled at her innocence, touched by her genuine wonder. "This is a different kind of theatre," I said gently. "It's for watching movies."
She tilted her head sideways, trying to understand what I was saying. "You'll understand, don't worry," I assured her with a smile.
I put "Guardian: The Lonely and Great God - K-drama" on the screen. It was the first thing that came to mind, something I thought she might enjoy as her first experience of a modern drama.
As the screen came to life, she sat there, eyes wide with shock, trying to comprehend what was happening. Her expression shifted from confusion to fascination as the story unfolded before her.
Halfway through the episode, I heard my phone ringing. The delivery must have arrived. I got up and saw Glamma completely engrossed in the screen, her attention locked onto the unfolding drama.
When I returned with the food, Glamma was nowhere to be found. I tried to concentrate, hoping to summon her back, but instead, I saw a character floating in mid-air. "Sorry, Nimble, I have something essential to attend to. I'll be back as soon as I can," the character said.
I pouted, staring at the food I had ordered for her. Now, who would eat it? I wondered to myself. Just then, I heard the doorknob twist and went to check, only to find Zack standing there.
"Hello, dewdrop!" he said with a cheerful grin.
"Theo!" I chirped happily, running into his arms with excitement.
"What were you up to?" he asked, hugging me tightly.
"I ordered some food and was about to watch a movie," I replied.
"You ordered food? That's perfect, I'm starving!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.
"You can have me," I blurted out impulsively.
"What?" he asked, caught off guard.
"Nothing," I quickly mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment.
I don't know why I said that. I must be stupid. As I walked upstairs, I was suddenly pulled into Zack's arms.
"Stop me anytime you wish," he whispered in a husky voice, his breath warm against my ear. Before I could respond, he kissed me, his lips soft yet commanding on my neck. His warm tongue traced delicate patterns, and I found myself lightly moaning, grabbing his shirt tightly at the waist.
As he trailed his tongue to my chin, his hands moved upward, tracing my curves. He stepped up to be on the same stair as me, his licks turning into gentle kisses. His fingers fanned across my neck, radiating heat and making me feel like I was losing my sanity bit by bit.
He softly kissed my entire face, and all I could do was hold onto him tightly. His fingernails lightly scratched just above my cleavage, causing me to almost lose my balance and lean into him. I was excited, but not so overwhelmed that I lost control completely.
It seemed he knew exactly what he was doing, allowing me to keep just enough of my sanity so I wouldn't turn into a fire cannon, while still pushing me to the edge of my desires.
He slowly nibbled on my neck, tracing a specific area just above my shoulder blade. I heard an animalistic growl, "Mine," and he sunk his teeth a little too hard for my liking. But that bite awakened something in me—a primal urge to bite him back that became too strong to resist. At some point, I forgot what was right or wrong.
I unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his shoulder. My tongue traced around a specific area, and I felt an uncontrollable urge to bite. Just as I was about to, he pulled me away, and I looked at him as if someone had taken candy from a child.
"Stop, Fiora," his voice was still raspy and breathy. His words gave me a moment to realize what was happening, and I suddenly felt exhausted, as if tons of energy had been drained from me.
I leaned on him for support, noticing how he looked both sexy and dishevelled—sorry, messy. My brain stopped working momentarily.
"Do you understand what you were about to do?" he asked, still out of breath.
"Did I?" I questioned myself. I took a deep breath, and as my brain slowly started to function again, I realized I was about to bite him—not a romantic nibble, but something that could draw blood.
My eyes widened in shock. "I'm sorry," I whispered, pulling myself away from him. I ran upstairs and locked myself in my room, my heart pounding. I looked at the mirror and saw my kaleidoscopic eyes for the first time. They were mesmerizing and terrifying. "Am I dangerous?" I whispered to my reflection, feeling a deep sense of unease.
"Will I hurt him? What am I exactly?" The questions haunted me until I started to cry.
I heard Zack knocking at my door. "Fiora? Are you there? Open the door... I'm sorry! I lost control momentarily... I apologize, it won't happen again..."
I opened the door before he could finish his sentence.
He looked at me guiltily. "I... I am sorr..." Before he could finish, I started crying loudly. He hugged me like a baby, trying to comfort me, and I began pouring out all the questions in my head between my sobs.
He didn't respond to any of them. Sniffling, I looked at him with teary eyes, searching for any sign of what he thought about me.
His reaction was utterly confusing. He gently wiped my tears and said, "I couldn't understand a word you said."
"Do you need water?" he asked. I started crying again. "Okay, okay, no water."
I felt his kisses on my head, and when I looked up, he placed a tender kiss on my forehead.
A fresh wave of tears threatened to spill over. "What happened?" he asked, concern etched in his voice as we entered my room and sat on the bed. His hands enveloped mine, warm and reassuring.
Words tumbled out of me. "I had this overwhelming urge to bite you, not a gentle nibble but one that could draw blood. Am I dangerous? Will I hurt you? I swear I didn't mean to; I just couldn't control myself. If you hadn't stopped me, I might have killed you."
"Why were you trying to bite me?" he asked, amusement flickering in his eyes despite the seriousness.
"I don't know," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "I just felt this internal urge." My head dropped, shame flooding my senses.
His amusement seemed out of place, yet strangely comforting. "Let me confirm something. If you're not comfortable you can stop me, okay?" His grin, both infuriating and endearing, made me want to trust him despite my fear.
He closed the distance between us, his fingers threading through my hair as he kissed my forehead. His lips travelled slowly, tracing a path across my face and down to my neck. Each kiss was a soothing balm, steadying my ragged breaths. When he reached my jawline, I felt a dangerous edge of desire sharp and intoxicating. His smile against my skin was maddening.
He paused at my shoulder, his breath hot and teasing. A gentle lick, a playful nibble—it sent shivers down my spine. Then, he bit me lightly at the nape of my neck, igniting the urge once more, fierce and uncontrollable.
I shoved him away, breathless and trembling, my heart pounding wildly. Zack cupped my face, his fingers gentle, his eyes searching mine.
His expression softened. "I thought you didn't like me touching you that way. I thought it was too soon," he said.
"No, that's not it," I replied, my voice tinged with shame. "I just don't want to hurt you—either of you—knowingly or unknowingly."
He lifted my face by gently cupping my cheeks and gave me a quick peck on the lips before pinching my cheeks just firmly enough to sting lightly.
"You're not dangerous, okay, Sniffles," Theo said, the nickname making me scrunch up my face in mild irritation. I wanted to retaliate, but instead, I pouted and in a little concerned voice I asked "Then, what was that urge?"
"Your father was an Ixcheline. You have some of his qualities. Since they aren't fully dominant, you experience them whenever your emotions are heightened," Zack explained.
"Even the changing eye colour?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
"To be fair, I'm not entirely sure about that. But you do have recessive Ixcheline genes," he continued.
"You mean to say whenever I experience these emotions, I have an urge to bite and draw blood?" I asked, the thought terrifying.
"It's not what you think," he said, his cheeks reddening.
"Then what?" I pressed.
He took a deep breath, visibly embarrassed. "I'll say it once. Listen to me carefully, okay?" I nodded, sharpening my focus.
"That urge is to mark your mate as yours, to show that the person is taken and shouldn't be touched by any other shapeshifter," he explained
I made a face that clearly said, "What the hell?"
"Primal," I muttered, my disbelief evident.
Zack chuckled, a proud grin spreading across his face. "Yes, I am," he said with a hint of satisfaction.
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A/N
Word count:- 3200
Hello, my lovely readers, I hope you all are doing well
Here, is the 37th chapter of my book
I hope you all liked it and have a great day ahead
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Thank you
Love you
bye:)
Until next time
Happy reading 💐
Date:- 15/07/2024