two voices said out loud from behind him. Malzahar chuckled and gave her a wink. " No, it is not. She's my wife" Liora looked at the tiny figures behind him. Four kids look at her with excitement, two of them seem to be older than the other two.
"Wow, you look just as stunning as Daddy described," a figure stepped forward, strikingly reminiscent of Malzahar, their eyes gleaming with excitement. "That's right, you look like a goddess," chimed another voice, rich with admiration. Confusion clouded her thoughts as she shifted her gaze from them back to Malzahar; his eyes appeared bewilderingly different from the ones she was used to seeing.
"What are they talking about? Who are these children?" her voice echoed with a quality that was wholly unfamiliar to her. Malzahar's expression suddenly shifted, a tension settling in. "They are our children. You've been gone for so long that you don't even recognize them." The severity of his words caught her off guard, prompting an instinctual gasp, her confusion deepening. "What are you talking about?" she pressed for clarification.
At that moment, the two older children, with hesitant steps, began moving toward the exit door. She turned to call out, but her attention was drawn to the infant cradled in one of their arms. "Whose children are they? Where are they going?" she inquired, her heart racing as she watched them drift toward the garden. She was about to rush after them when a dense fog began to loom ominously behind the children.
"Don't go!" she shouted, panic rising in her throat, but the children turned away from the fog, gazing back at her with haunting sadness. "Save us, Mum, please save us! We don't want to die!" The desperation in their voices pierced her heart. Suddenly, a force yanked her back, pulling her into an engulfing darkness.
She gasped, her eyes flying open to her surroundings. "Thank goodness, my baby is awake!" The comforting voice belonged to her mother, Maeve, who enveloped her in an anxious embrace, dried tears mapping her cheeks. Around her, her sisters and the Luna stood, their expressions a mixture of concern and relief.
"Mum, where are they?" she asked, her voice reverting to its youthful timbre. "Who? What are you talking about?" Maeve's voice trembled with confusion, sounding achingly weak. "You've been unconscious since yesterday," Maeve continued, disbelief etching her features.
"Yes, Liora, you fell asleep in the car and didn't wake up. We had to carry you out," chimed Serena, who had stationed herself beside her, looking equally bewildered. "The doctor said you were in a type of trance—everything was fine, but you were unresponsive," added Luna, her gentle voice seeking to soothe.
"Nyra, what's happening?" Liora asked, glancing around, but Nyra appeared deep in slumber, lost to the world. Just then, a doctor entered, clipboard in hand, his demeanor brightening the room. "Hello, sunshine! How are you feeling?" He approached her patiently, doing a quick examination—checking blood pressure and temperature, his practiced hands revealing no immediate concerns.
"Alright, everything looks normal, but you need rest," he stated, his authoritative tone brooking no argument. Esmé rose, concern etched upon her face. "Rest? She just woke up from a nap, isn't that enough?"
The doctor shook his head, his expression serious. "This wasn't a nap; she was in a trance, her energy completely drained. I will prepare the discharge papers; I'll need your signature." With that, he exited, accompanied by Lyanna.
"Come on, baby, let's get you dressed," Maeve said, retrieving a neatly folded outfit from the table beside the bed. The others quietly stepped aside, granting them a moment of privacy as her mother assisted her into the soft fabric.
Still, her mind lingered on the haunting visions from her dream. "Mama, I saw myself in a—" she began, but her mother's hand gently covered her mouth.
Maeve glanced around the room with a look of fear, her voice lowering to a whisper. "Don't tell anyone about this, not even me. No one must hear this." Liora met her mother's gaze, the urgency palpable, but she nodded, swallowing her words and holding them close.
"But why? The man and children I saw—they were real!" she protested, caught between confusion and dread. Maeve ignored her, focusing on helping Liora with her clothes. Recognizing her mother's protective nature, Liora decided to let it slide for now. They stepped out of the hospital, making their way home, the weight of her dream still pressing heavily on her mind.
"Get some rest; we'll talk later. It's still early," Maeve murmured as she exited the room, closing the door softly behind her. Liora felt her eyelids grow increasingly heavy, fatigue pulling her gently into slumber once more. But the vivid memories of her dream clung to her, refusing to fade.
---
Malzahar's perspective shifted as he described the turmoil he faced. "We've scoured the packs, but she's nowhere to be found. Are you certain she was there that night?" Silos crashed onto the couch in the dimly lit confines of Malzahar's office, concern etched on his face. "I know what I'm saying! She was there. I just forgot to ask her which pack she belonged to," Malzahar replied, exhaustion draping over his every word. His gamma, still diligently searching, sought any remaining leads on his mate's whereabouts.
"Could it be a trick of the mind? You were drugged that night, after all," Silos ventured cautiously, but Malzahar met his gaze with unwavering intensity. "Everything I experienced that night was real. I can feel it. She's close, I know it." His voice was steely, imbued with authority.
"Alright, we have one pack that's a bit farther from here..." A knock interrupted their discussion, the door creaking open as an aide stepped inside, files in hand. "Your Highness, we've investigated the details you provided. Unfortunately, we found no one who recognizes her. However, there is a pack further out where we suspect she might be."
Without hesitation, Malzahar took the keys from his desk, determination coursing through him as he prepared to leave. "You're not going there right now," Silos warned, stepping in front of him, concern etching his brow.
Malzahar locked eyes with his best friend momentarily before pushing past him, silence falling heavily between them. Sighing, Silos followed, knowing all too well that Malzahar's stubbornness often overshadowed caution.