Zeyrala darted through the forest, the sound of her laughter bubbling into the air as she glanced over her shoulder, certain Neteyam wasn't far behind. The forest blurred around her, the vibrant hues of green and the warm glow of sunlight filtering through the canopy creating a kaleidoscope of colors. Her heart raced, exhilaration coursing through her veins. She took a sharp turn, misjudging her speed, and collided with something solid. The impact knocked her off balance, and she stumbled back, ears flattening in surprise.

"Well, well, well," A low, familiar voice drawls, stopping her in her tracks. Zeyrala looked up to see Rukan standing there, his usual confident smirk firmly in place. His hands shot out to steady her shoulders, his touch lingering a beat too long. "Didn't know you missed me so much, Zeyrala. Running straight into my arms like that?"

She shrugs his hands off instantly, stepping back to create distance between them. Her golden eyes narrowed, irritation sparking in her expression. "I didn't see you there," She said sharply. "And I'm definitely not here for you."

"Of course not," Rukan replies, his smirk unfaltering as he leaned lazily against a nearby tree. "But now that you are, maybe we can talk. I've been meaning to catch you alone."

Her tail flicks sharply behind her, betraying her annoyance. Arms crossing over her chest, she tilts her head, a challenge in her stance. "What for? If you're just here to waste my time, forget it."

Rukan chuckles, his eyes scanning her face with a look that made her skin crawl. "Come on, don't be like that. You've been spending so much time with Neteyam lately. People are starting to wonder if he's really the right choice for you."

Zeyrala's ears perks in annoyance, and she frowns. "What are you talking about?"

He straightens from his lazy pose, taking a deliberate step closer, his tone dropping into something smooth and persuasive. "You know what I mean. You're strong, Zeyrala. Fierce. Neteyam though? He's the golden boy. He's the leader's perfect little shadow. He's got no fire, no edge. Always trying to play the hero, but in the end, he'll never be half the warrior you are. He isn't fit to stand by your side as your mate." His hand reached out, brushing lightly against her arm.

Zeyrala stiffens, her tail lashing in irritation. She steps back, her voice sharp as a blade. "And you think that's you?" 

"Why not?" Rukan's smirk widens as he closed the distance again, leaning in slightly. His hand came up, resting against the tree beside her head, boxing her in. "Do you really want your mate to be some little puppy following you around all the time?"

Her golden eyes flashes, darting to the hand by her head before locking onto Rukan's face. Anger flared within her, her whole body tensing as the air grew thick with hostility. "What do you think you're doing?" She demands coldly. "If you know what's good for you, you'll get out of my way before I make you."

"You know," He continues, ignoring her words, "I've heard rumors. About why you won't choose a mate. Some say you and Neteyam secretly mated and went against the clan's customs, but..." His voice trailed off, and his smirk deepened. "I don't think that's true."

Her lips curls in a sneer, her eyes narrowed at him. "Is that so? You think you have me all figured out?" She wanted to push him away, but she forced herself to stay still, the air thick with tension. Rukan's smug demeanor only fueled the fire within her, but she knew better than to let him see just how much his words were getting to her.

"Not entirely," Rukan admits easily, his eyes roaming her face. His other hand came up, brushing against her jawline. Her ears flicks in agitation, but she stood her ground, meeting his gaze with a defiant glare. "But I do know you haven't chosen anyone else, which means..." He tilts his head slightly, his gaze sliding down her face to her neck. "Maybe you don't want to choose."

Her tail lashes behind her, a visible sign of her growing frustration. "Oh?"

"Maybe, deep down, you're enjoying the attention." Rukan suggested smoothly. His thumb brushed against her lower lip, and Zeyrala reacted instantly, slapping his hand away. Her eyes burned with fury as she stood taller, her presence radiating defiance.

"Watch yourself, Rukan," She hisses. "If you think I'll let you disrespect me like this, you're dead wrong."

Rukan chuckles, undeterred. "Oh, come on, Zeyrala. You don't have to act so tough all the time. It's okay to admit you like a little attention. I see the way your ears flick when I'm close. You don't have to pretend with me."

Her hand itches to reach for her knife, but she held back, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "What I don't like is you assuming you know me, or that I owe you anything. Back. Off. Now."

Rukan's smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before returning with a cocky edge. "Now, Zeyrala, I've never been the kind of man who just takes 'no' for an answer." He moves closer, pressing her back against the tree. His lips brushes against the side of her neck as he whispers, "Maybe you need a firmer hand. Someone to tame that wild spirit of yours. You'll make a good mate for me, Zeyrala. Or maybe I should just take you here, make sure everyone knows you're mine" 

Her body shuddered, not with fear but with a mix of disgust and rage. Just as his hand started to drift lower, she acted. Zeyrala's knee shot up, connecting with his groin. Hard. Rukan groaned, doubling over in pain, and Zeyrala seized the moment. She shoved him away with all her strength and drew her knife, the blade gleaming as she pressed it to his neck. 

"How dare you," She growls, her voice deadly. "I should kill you where you stand."

The sound of footsteps made her ears swivel, and before she could react further, Neteyam burst onto the scene. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of Rukan leaning against the tree, clutching his groin, and Zeyrala's knife poised to strike. Without hesitation, Neteyam charged, slamming into Rukan and pinning him to the ground. All he saw was the red haze of fury in Neteyam's eyes as he grappled with Rukan, the tension crackling in the air between them. Rukan, still winded from the knee to the groin, struggled to free himself, but Neteyam's grip was unrelenting. Zeyrala stood there, her chest heaving with anger and adrenaline, her knife still poised, though her hand now trembled slightly. She watched as Rukan's smirk faltered for the first time, his face contorting in pain and frustration.

Neteyam's fist connects with Rukan's jaw in a sickening crunch. "You ba****d!" He roars. "I should tear you limb from limb!" 

"Neteyam!" Zeyrala's sharp voice cut through the chaos. He froze mid-swing, his chest heaving as he looked back at her. "Enough." She commanded, her voice cold and firm. Reluctantly, Neteyam released Rukan, shoving him away in disgust. The defeated warrior spat blood onto the ground, glaring at them both as he stumbled to his feet. 

"You'll regret this." Rukan hissed before limping into the shadows of the forest.

Neteyam turns to Zeyrala, concern etched into his features. "Are you okay?" He asked softly.

She sheathes her knife, her expression guarded. "I'm fine," She snaps, brushing past him. "Let's just go."

"Wait, Zeyrala-" Neteyam tried to get her attention and Zeyrala stopped in her tracks, her shoulders tense as Neteyam's hand lingered on her arm. She didn't speak, the fire in her golden eyes dimmed to a simmering storm, but she didn't pull away from his touch either. The moment hung heavy between them, the air thick with unspoken words.

"You don't have to face things like this alone," Neteyam said, his voice gentle but steady. "I saw what he tried to do. You don't have to hide your anger or your pain from me."

She exhales sharply, pulling her arm free. "I don't need saving, Neteyam," She tells him, her tone laced with frustration. "I can take care of myself." 

"I know that," He replies, stepping in front of her, his gaze unwavering. "But that doesn't mean hat you have to face everything on your own. I'm here for you. Always."

Her jaw tightens, but she didn't respond. For a moment, the two stood in silence, the sounds of the forest filling the space between them. Finally, Zeyrala speaks, her voice quieter now. "He crossed a line." Her tail lashes behind her as she tried to steady her breathing. "I should've ended it right there."

Neteyam shakes his head, his expression softening. "Killing him wouldn't have solved anything. It would've only brought more trouble, and you know it." Even though he honestly wanted to see Rukan punished for what he'd done, Neteyam's focus remained on Zeyrala.  "You did the right thing by letting him go." He added, though his clenched fists betrayed his lingering anger.

Her golden eyes locks onto his, filled with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability. "Letting a snake slither away to strike again? What if—"

"I know," Neteyam said, his expression darkening at the thought of Rukan. "And he'll answer for it. I promise you."

Zeyrala's gaze softens slightly as she looked at him. "You didn't have to step in like that."

"Yes, I did," He said firmly. "You'd do the same if I was in the same situation. And because you matter to me. And no one—especially not someone like Rukan—has the right to treat you like that."

Her tail flicks uncertainly, her usual sharp edges softened by his words. "You're too good for this world, Neteyam." She muttered, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

He chuckles softly. "And you're too stubborn for your own good, Zeze." He responded, his gaze warm but slight teasing as he met her gaze. 

The nickname drew a brief, genuine laugh from her, and for a moment, the weight of the encounter with Rukan seemed to lift. She shakes her head, a reluctant smile breaking through. "You're impossible."

"And you're fierce," He counters, his smile widening. "Come on, let's get back to the village. We can't let someone like Rukan ruin our day." Zeyrala hesitated but finally nodded, falling into step beside him. Though she didn't say it out loud, she was grateful for his presence—and for the reminder that she wasn't as alone as she often told herself.

As they disappeared into the vibrant hues of the forest, the sun's rays danced on the leaves above, casting golden light on the path ahead. For now, the shadows of conflict lay behind them, though Zeyrala knew it wouldn't be the last time she'd have to confront Rukan—or the doubts he'd tried to plant in her mind. But with Neteyam at her side, she felt a glimmer of reassurance. Together, they were stronger than the challenges ahead.

****

Zeyrala entered the family hut, her movements hesitant but steady. The soft glow of the woven lanterns illuminated the space, casting shadows that danced across the curved walls. The moment Sulyana saw her daughter, a relieved sigh escaped her lips. She rushed forward, wrapping Zeyrala in a tight embrace.

"Zeyrala!" Sulyana's voice trembles with emotion. "Thank Ewya you're safe. We've been worried sick about you. You know better than to run off without telling us first. Your father and I...We were so worried."

Zeyrala closes her eyes and leans into her mother's embrace, feeling the warmth and love that radiated from her. "I'm sorry, mom. I didn't mean to worry you."

Sulyana pulls back slightly, brushing a few strands of hair from Zeyrala's face and smoothing down the feathers that adorned her daughter's head. "It's alright, sweetheart. I'm just glad you're safe."

"I'm sorry." Zeyrala repeated, her voice quieter this time.

"It's alright, sweetling." Sulyana reassured her, stroking her cheek gently.

They sank down onto a woven mat together, Sulyana's arm still wrapped around her daughter's shoulders. Zeyrala's tense posture slowly began to soften, but her gaze grew distant. Her thoughts drifted to the encounter she'd had with Rukan—his aggressive advances, the way he'd tried to intimidate her. And then there was Neteyam. She thought of how he'd stood between her and Rukan, his anger palpable as he defended her, his arms around her afterward, shielding her from the world.

Sulyana watches her daughter closely, her ears twitching slightly in concern. She could sense the tension still lingering in Zeyrala's body. "Zeyrala? Is everything alright?"

The question snapped Zeyrala back to the present. She blinks and forces a smile, shaking her head. "Of course, mom. I'm fine."

Sulyana wasn't convinced. "Are you sure? You seem distracted."

"It's nothing," Zeyrala replies, her voice light but unconvincing. She turns her gaze away, her tail flicking behind her. "Just thinking."

Sulyana tilts her head, her sharp gaze not leaving her daughter's face. "Thinking about what?"

Zeyrala hesitates, then tried to deflect. "Oh, it's nothing important," She said dismissively, her tone too casual. "Really, mom. I'm fine."

"Hmm..." Sulyana murmured, her skepticism clear. She could see through Zeyrala's façade.

Finally, Zeyrala sighs, realizing her mother wouldn't let it go. "I was just thinking about...My choices. About who I want to be with."

Sulyana's ears perks up, and a spark of curiosity lit her eyes while her face brightens. "Oh? Did you finally decide on someone for your mate?" 

Zeyrala's shoulders tenses. She glances away. "No. I just...I don't see why I have to choose. What if I don't want a mate?"

The deep rumble of Zyren's voice filled the hut as her father entered. "No mate?" His tone carried a mix of surprise and concern. "Zeyrala, every Na'vi your age begins to think about their future. You know it's important to find a mate, someone who will share their life with you, to build a future together, and eventually start a family," Zyren continues, his voice firm but not unkind. "It's important in our clan to have strong bonds, to carry on traditions, and to build the next generation together. It's how we thrive as a people."

Zeyrala's gaze hardened as she turned to face her father. "But why does it have to be that way? Why is it that the only path forward is finding a mate, starting a family?" Her voice was tings with frustration, her tail flicking behind her in agitation. "Why can't I choose my own path, without feeling like I'm being pushed into something I don't want?"

Zyren's brow furrows at his daughter's sudden outburst, but his voice remained steady, carrying a weight of understanding. "Zeyrala, it's not about being pushed. It's about belonging—about creating connections that help us grow and survive. You're right that there are many paths in life, but a mate is someone who stands by your side, someone who shares your burdens, celebrates your joys. It's a bond that strengthens not just you, but the community around you."

Zeyrala's tail flicks in frustration, her eyes blazing. "But what if I don't need that? I've been perfectly fine on my own. What if I don't want to be tied down like that? I've seen so many Na'vi in this clan, all expecting the same thing. It feels like the moment you hit a certain age, it's expected that you'll just fall into it, no questions asked. I don't want to just follow along because it's tradition." She scoffed as she crossed her arms.   

Sulyana places a calming hand on her mate's arm after seeing Zyren's expression harden slightly, but Sulyana's gentle touch brought him a moment of stillness. She turns her gentle gaze back to their daughter. "I understand that you're upset, Zeyrala. I do. But you need to understand that it's not about following tradition just for the sake of it. It's about building something with someone who truly matters to you, someone who becomes a part of your world in a way that's beyond anything you can do alone."

Zeyrala huffs, her frustration not entirely subsiding. "I know what you're saying, but it still feels like everyone else trying to decide for me. It's like if I don't follow that path, I'll be seen as strange or wrong." She looked down, her fingers messing with a beaded bracelet she had made, one that is matching with a bracelet Neteyam always wore.

Sulyana noticed the small movement of Zeyrala's fingers and the way her gaze dropped, a subtle sign that the conversation was hitting closer to home than her daughter was willing to admit. She moved closer to her, her voice softening. "Sweetheart, I know it feels like there's pressure from all sides. But there is no right or wrong path. What matters is what you want, not what others expect from you."

Zyren, ever the protector, let out a long sigh. He rubs his temples, as though trying to find the right words. "Rala, I'm not saying you should follow the traditions mindlessly. What I'm trying to tell you is that a mate isn't just about fitting in or following rules. It's about finding someone who chooses you, who shares your burdens and joys, someone who becomes your partner in a way that no one else can. Someone who understands you, supports you, and walks beside you always. I understand your fear of being forced into something that feels like an obligation. But love, real love, isn't about being tied down—it's about freedom. It's about growing together, and knowing that you can still be your own person while sharing a life with someone else. A mate is someone who supports your dreams, just as much as you support theirs."

Zeyrala's expression softened slightly as she listened, though her inner conflict remained. She wanted to believe her father, wanted to understand what he meant, but a part of her still felt uncertain. "But what if I don't find someone like that? What if I never want that kind of bond?"

Sulyana's voice was warm, her eyes full of understanding. "Darling, it's not about finding the 'right' person right away. It's about knowing that when you do find them, you'll feel it in your heart. It won't feel like something you have to do; it will feel like something you want to do. You'll know, Zeyrala. But you don't have to rush it. If it's not the right time for you, that's alright too. Ewya will guide you in her own way. She knows your heart, your desires, and she will lead you on the path that is meant for you."

Zeyrala looks up at her mother, the warmth in her gaze offering reassurance. "But what if I don't feel that pull? What if I never meet anyone who makes me feel like that?"

Sulyana's smile was gentle, her voice soft and patient. "Then that's okay too, sweetling. There's no set timeline for love. You don't have to meet expectations or follow anyone else's path. Your journey is your own, and it will unfold in its own time. Maybe you'll meet someone who stirs something deep inside of you, or maybe you won't—and that's alright. What's most important is that you remain true to yourself, and trust that everything will come when it's meant to." She softly adds, "We're not trying to force you into anything, yawne. You don't need to choose now or ever if it doesn't feel right to you. What matters most is that you're happy, and that you follow your heart."

Zyren chimes in with, "We just want you to be happy, Rala. There's no rush to find a mate. What we want is for you to live life on your own terms, and if that means taking time, or even choosing a path that others might not understand, then so be it. We'll always support you."

Zeyrala's heart softened as she heard their words, the love in her parents' voices giving her the space she needed to feel heard. The pressure she had felt before began to ebb away, replaced by a quiet understanding that it was okay to be uncertain, to take time to figure things out. She still wasn't sure what she wanted, but she realized now that it wasn't about meeting expectations—it was about finding her own way.

"But I can tell there is also something weighing on you." Sulyana interjects softly, concern filling her gaze. "Did something happen while you were out?"

Zeyrala hesitates, her gaze darting to the floor. She knew how protective her father could be, and she wasn't sure how he'd react. But she also knew she couldn't keep this from them. "There was...An encounter," She began carefully as her tail flicks nervously. "Rukan cornered me. He wouldn't leave me alone. But Neteyam showed up and stopped him before things got worse."

Zyren's ears flattens, his expression darkens. "Rukan? That skxwang dared to corner you?"  He growls, his voice low and menacing. "I'll make sure he knows the consequences of disrespecting my daughter." His eyes flared with the protective anger he felt for Zeyrala, but he tried to reign it in, aware of the need to stay calm.

"Dad," Zeyrala said quickly, raising a hand to calm him. "It's fine. Neteyam handled it, and I stood my ground before anything worse happened." 

Sulyana's ears droops, her hand reaching out to hold Zeyrala's. "Oh, my sweet girl. I wish you had told us sooner. I'm so sorry that happened, it shouldn't have. Are you sure you're alright?"

Zeyrala nods, her voice softer now. "I'm fine, truly. But it's just...It made me think about how everyone sees me. It feels like everyone is so obsessed with me choosing a mate, as if I'm incomplete without one. It's frustrating." She sighs as she runs a hand through her hair. "Yes, I know I'm at the age where it's expected, but it doesn't feel right to rush into something just because everyone else thinks it's time. I want to make this decision on my own, in my own time, and with someone who feels like the right fit for me—not because of expectations. I don't want a forced mate either and I know some people in the clan think I should have by now."

Zyren's gaze softens as he listens to his daughter's words. His initial anger fades, replaced by a more understanding expression. He had always been more traditional, and he felt like as the man of the family, it was his role to ensure his daughter made choices that would benefit her and the clan. He just wanted to know that his baby girl would be safe and taken care of, but he also knew that her independence was important. Most of the clan are traditional too, there are the ones who think she should have already settled down by now. 

Others her age were either the clan are traditional too, there are the ones who think she should already mated or well on their way to it. There are even still some who think women are only good forbearing children and playing supportive roles in their mate's lives, which always frustrated Zyren. He understood the importance of strong bonds for the clan's future, but he also saw his daughter's potential for more than what some of the clan members expected of her. Though because of her stubbornness and independence, he knew that Zeyrala would never fit into a mold that others tried to force on her. She was too strong-willed and capable of carving out her own path. He couldn't deny that he was proud of her for wanting to make this decision for herself and not simply following the crowd.

But it was also hard not to go along with the tradition that had shaped their lives and the clan for generations. Zyren wanted to protect his daughter, to ensure that she had a secure future. He had always hoped that she would find someone who would complement her strengths, someone who would stand by her side and offer the support she deserved. But seeing the strength in her words, in the determination that had always defined her, he realized that perhaps Zeyrala's future was not one that could be mapped out by tradition alone.

"Zeyrala," He began, his voice softening even more as he stepped closer, "I understand that this is something deeply personal to you. And I respect that." He glances at Sulyana, who gave him a small, encouraging smile, before returning his focus to their daughter. "We respect that. You're right, it's not something that should be rushed. Your happiness and peace of mind matter far more than any tradition or expectation. We want you to find someone who truly complements you—not someone who fits a mold others created."

Sulyana nods in agreement. "Your father and I both know that bonds are important. But what's more important is that you're ready. You deserve to feel fulfilled, and you should never feel pressured into something just because of what others think." She gently brushes a strand of Zeyrala's hair from her face, her expression soft and full of love. "You have the right to decide your future, sweetling, and we'll support you no matter what."

Zeyrala felt a sense of relief, the tension in her shoulders easing as she absorbed her parents' words. It meant more to her than they could know, especially when the expectations from the rest of the clan weighed so heavily on her. "I also don't want to disappoint anyone." She admits, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want them to think I'm being defiant or that I'm going against tradition just for the sake of it." She glances at her parents, her eyes filled with uncertainty while she kept fidgeting with her bracelet. "It's just...So hard when everyone expects me to fit into a mold I don't even believe in. I want to find my own path, but sometimes it feels like that's not enough for others."

Zyren places a hand gently on her shoulder, his voice steady yet filled with understanding. "Zeyrala, the only person you need to answer to is yourself. We respect you, and we love you for who you are, not for what others think you should be. It's okay to go at your own pace. The clan's expectations shouldn't weigh heavier than your own peace of mind." His eyes soften as he gives her a reassuring squeeze. "You're not defiant. You're strong, and you're just being true to yourself."

Sulyana smiles, her hand still resting on Zeyrala's, as she speaks with a warmth that only a mother could offer. "You are our daughter, sweetling, and we know your heart. You don't need to apologize for not following someone else's timeline. You deserve to choose your own future, in your own time. There's no shame in taking the time to find someone who truly deserves you, who truly understands and respects you." She smiles lovingly at her daughter. "Your path will be your own, and no one can dictate that but you. We're here to support you in whatever way you need, always."

Zeyrala's heart swells with gratitude, and she smiles softly, the weight on her chest slowly lifting. "Thank you," She says quietly, her voice tinged with emotion. "I...I really needed to hear that. I've been struggling with it for so long, and I just didn't know how to deal with the pressure."

Zyren gives her a reassuring nod. "It's okay, Zeyrala. We understand. And no matter what, we're proud of you for staying true to yourself."

Sulyana gently pulls her into an embrace, her voice soft and comforting. "You are our little star, shining brighter every day. And no matter where your journey takes you, we'll always be here to guide and love you."

Zeyrala closes her eyes, feeling the warmth and love of her parents, knowing that no matter the expectations of the world, she had her family's unwavering support. "Thank you," She whispers again, feeling stronger and more confident in her decision to follow her own path. "I love you guys." 

Zyren joins in on the hug, wrapping his strong arms around the two girls he loves the most. "We love you too, Rala." 

Sulyana nods in agreement, her voice soothing. "And when the time comes, if it ever does, you will find someone worthy of your strength and spirit. Until then, don't let anyone, not even Rukan, make you feel pressured."

A small smile tugs at Zeyrala's lips as she looked at her parents when they all pull away from the hug. "Thank you, again. Both of you." 

****

Later that evening as Sulyana and Zeyrala settled into their hammocks and fell into a peaceful sleep, Zyren was anything but calm. His mind replayed her words about Rukan cornering her, and a deep growl rumbled in his chest. The thought of someone disrespecting his daughter was enough to stir his protective instincts into action. Without telling Zeyrala or Sulyana, Zyren slipped out of their hut and made his way toward Rukan's family home. The cool night air did little to soothe his simmering anger.

By the time he reached his destination, his tail was lashing behind him, and his ears were pinned back in determination. Rukan's family hut was brightly lit with the glow of the bioluminescent plants that surrounded it. Zyren could hear voices inside—Rukan's boisterous laughter mingling with the quieter tones of his parents. Zyren didn't wait for an invitation. He stepped forward, his imposing figure filling the doorway.

Rukan's father, Toval, was the first to notice him. His eyes narrows slightly in confusion. "Zyren? What brings you here at this hour?"

Zyren crosses his arms, his voice low and steady, though it carried the weight of his anger. "We need to talk. Now."

Toval stands, his own frame nearly matching Zyren's in size, though his tone remained calm. "About what?"

Rukan, lounging casually near the fire, looks up at the sound of his father's voice, and his smirk falters when he sees the intensity in Zyren's eyes. Zyren was someone, who commanded respect, and the anger in his gaze was enough to silence the room. Rukan shifted uncomfortably, but his pride kept him from speaking immediately. Zyren's posture alone was a clear sign that whatever conversation was about to take place, it wouldn't be a pleasant one for Rukan.

Zyren's golden eyes fixed on Rukan, and his voice turned icy. "You know exactly why I'm here, Rukan. You disrespected my daughter today. You cornered her, ignored her boundaries, and touched her without her consent. That is unacceptable."

Rukan's smirk falters at seeing the great and powerful Zyren angry, though he tried to play it off with a shrug. "I don't know what you're talking about. Zeyrala and I were just talking. If she didn't like it, she could've walked away."

Zyren's tail lashes violently, and he takes a step closer, towering over Rukan. "She could not walk away because you trapped her. You think I'll let that slide? You're lucky I hadn't been there witness it firsthand. If I had, you wouldn't be standing here right now." Zyren's voice was low, each word dripping with menace. His towering frame seemed to loom over Rukan, making it impossible for him to escape the weight of his fury.

"Zyren, please," Toval said calmly, though there was a hint of urgency in his tone. "Let's not get violent. We can talk this out like adults."

Zyren's gaze snaps to him, his harsh glare not fading. "Then you should have taught your son better, Toval." Zyren's voice was low and dangerous, each word weighted with frustration. "This wouldn't have happened if you had instilled respect in him, from the start." His tail flicked sharply, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on.

Toval, despite the growing pressure, held his ground. His hand remained raised, trying to bridge the divide between Zyren's fury and his own more measured approach. "Zyren, I know you're angry, but attacking Rukan won't solve anything." His voice was firm, though there was a trace of regret in his eyes. Rukan, now feeling the full weight of the situation, shifted nervously. His usual arrogance had evaporated, replaced by a sense of unease and guilt he hadn't expected to feel.

Zyren takes a step forward, his towering form casting a shadow over Rukan. "I don't care what you say, Toval. This isn't about just words. It's about protecting what matters. My daughter matters."

Rukan straightens, a defiant edge in his tone. "I was just trying to talk to her! She's so high and mighty, always acting like she's better than everyone else. Someone needed to bring her down a notch."

Zyren storms towards Rukan in a blur of motion, his imposing figure radiating uncontained fury. His voice boomed, low and thunderous, as he closed the distance between them. "You needed to bring her down a notch?" His voice drips with incredulity and anger, his tail lashing behind him. "You dare to justify your actions with such arrogance?" Zyren's growl reverberated through the hut, silencing everyone. He grabbed Rukan by the front of his chest covering, lifting him slightly off the ground. The younger man squirmed, his earlier bravado completely gone as he faced the raw fury of an experienced warrior and protective father.

"You listen to me, boy," Zyren snarls, his golden eyes glowing in the dim light of the hut. "Zeyrala is strong, capable, and more than you could ever hope to deserve. She is not yours to manipulate, control, or demean. If you so much as look at her the wrong way again, I will make sure you understand the consequences of your actions in ways you'll never forget."

Toval moves closer, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Zyren, enough. He gets the message. Let him go."

Zyren's gaze flicks to Toval for a brief moment before returning to Rukan. Slowly, he lowers the younger man to the ground but didn't release his grip just yet. "Consider this your one and only warning. Cross my family again, and you'll answer to me."

Rukan nods quickly, his face pale and his ears flattened against his head. "I-I understand. I'm sorry."

Zyren shoves him back slightly, causing Rukan to stumble but remain on his feet. "Good. But you should apologize to Zeyrala as well," Zyren growls, his tone hard but carrying an undercurrent of warning. "You owe her more than just words. You owe her respect."

Rukan's mouth opens, hesitation evident in his eyes. He wasn't used to being in such a vulnerable position, and the weight of Zyren's words hung heavy in the air. Finally, he mutters, "I...I'll apologize to her."

Zyren's gaze doesn't soften, but he takes a step back, releasing his grip on Rukan's collar. "Make sure your actions match your words, Rukan. Apologies are only worth something if they come with change."

Toval, standing at the edge of the room, exhales slowly, his eyes flicking between his son and Zyren. "This is not how I wanted things to escalate," He says quietly, but there's a sense of understanding behind his tone. "Let's keep the peace between our families."

Zyren narrows his eyes, his anger still simmering but now under more control. "I've done what I came to do. Make sure this doesn't happen again." He turns back to Rukan before he leaves. "Now, I suggest you spend some time reflecting on the kind of man you want to be. Because if you continue down this path, it won't end well for you."

Without waiting for a response, he turns and strides out of the hut, his tail flicking with irritation. The night air feels cooler against his heated skin as he walks away, his heart still pounding from the confrontation. He hated losing his temper, but the thought of anyone hurting Zeyrala made his blood boil. As he made his way back to his family's hut, he felt a grim satisfaction knowing he had done his part to protect his daughter.

When he returned, Sulyana was waiting for him, her arms crossed and her expression knowing. "You went to see Rukan, didn't you?"

Zyren sighs, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "I did. He needed to hear what happens when someone disrespects our family."

Sulyana raises an eyebrow, her gaze soft but steady. "And did he hear you?"

Zyren nods, his face still tight with lingering frustration. "He heard me loud and clear. I made sure of it."

She exhales slowly, walking toward him and placing a hand on his arm. "Yawne, I know you were only trying to protect her," She says, her voice gentle but firm, "But remember, Zeyrala has her own strength. She may not always show it in the ways we expect, but she knows how to handle herself."

Zyren looks down at Sulyana, his expression softening at her words, though the protective fire within him still burns. "I can't stand the thought of someone hurting her, Sulyana. I can't. It's my job to protect her."

Sulyana nods, understanding the depth of his love and concern as she reaches over to gently cup his face. "And you will always be there for her, but let her walk her own path. Let her decide when and how she needs help."

Zyren into her touch, his tension easing as her warmth calms the storm within him. He closes his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. "I know you're right, dear," He murmurs, his voice quieter now. "It's just hard to let go sometimes. She's our little girl, Sulyana. I can't help but want to shield her from everything."

Sulyana smiles softly, her thumb brushing against his cheek. "She'll always be our little star, Zy. But she's also a warrior in her own right, with her own battles to face. She's strong because she has us to guide her, but she'll grow even stronger by finding her way. She knows she can always turn to us when she needs us. But she's also growing into someone who can stand on her own. We have to trust that, too. We both will always be here for her, but we have to let her find her own strength, Zyren. It's a part of her journey, just as it was for us."

Zyren exhales slowly, the weight of her words sinking in. He looks at her, the love in his eyes clear but tinged with the lingering protectiveness he can't fully shake. "I know, my love. I just...It's hard, Sulyana. Seeing her grow up means realizing that she's capable of facing the world without us always hovering."

Sulyana nods, her hand still gently cradling his face. "I understand, love. But we've raised her well. She's a reflection of us, and the strength she carries is a testament to the love we've given her. We've given her the foundation. Now, she's building her own path."

Zyren smiles, a small, bittersweet curve of his lips. "I guess that's what we've always wanted, isn't it? For her to be strong and capable in her own right. To be able to face the world with confidence, knowing she has a solid foundation beneath her."

"Exactly," Sulyana responds, her voice filled with warmth and certainty. "And she knows that no matter where life takes her, she has the love and support of her family. That will always be there, no matter what."

Zyren nods, his posture relaxing as he leans into her touch. "I'll try to remember that. Let her find her way, but know that I'll be here when she needs me."

Sulyana smiles and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. "That's all she needs. Your presence, your guidance, your love. And that's more than enough."

With that, Zyren allows himself to relax, his thoughts drifting toward his daughter and the kind of person she was becoming—strong, independent, and fiercely loved. He knew it wouldn't always be easy, but he had faith that she would carve her own path with the guidance of her family, no matter how fiercely he had to protect her.

And for now, that was enough. Sulyana left to head to their room as Zyren followed her, but he paused by Zeyrala's sleeping room to check on her. When he stepped past the curtain, he wasn't surprised to see the faint glow of bioluminescence reflecting off two figures. It had become a familiar sight over the past few moons—either Zeyrala would sneak off to Neteyam's family hut next door, or Neteyam would end up here, watching over her. Their bond was clear to anyone paying attention, and though Zyren had once considered intervening, he had come to understand the depth of their connection.

Carefully, he pushed aside the curtain, his golden eyes adjusting to the dim light inside. Sure enough, Zeyrala was nestled in her hammock, her head resting against Neteyam's chest. His arm was wrapped protectively around her, their tails loosely intertwined in a gesture of trust and comfort. Both were sound asleep, their breathing in sync, a picture of quiet devotion. Zyren allowed himself a small smile. Despite the day's turmoil, his daughter looked at peace, her expression free of the tension that had clouded her earlier. And Neteyam, ever the steadfast presence, held her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

He didn't bother waking them or chastising them. What would be the point? This wasn't a secret to him or Sulyana. If anything, it reassured him. Neteyam had proven today, as he had many times before, that he would do whatever it took to protect Zeyrala.

Zyren steps back out into his and his mate's room, where Sulyana was waiting. She glances up at him, her sharp eyes immediately reading the situation. "He's there, isn't he?"

Zyren nods, his voice calm. "He is. As usual."

Sulyana smirks, crossing her arms. "Should I prepare for the day they decide to stop pretending they're not already a pair?"

Zyren chuckles quietly. "It's not exactly a secret, is it? Let them be. He's good for her."

Sulyana softens, stepping closer to him and resting a hand on his arm. "I know. And I'm glad. After what happened today, she deserves to feel safe."

"She does," Zyren agrees, his voice steady. "And with him, I know she is. Neteyam has proven himself time and time again. He's steady, loyal, and cares for her deeply. That's all I could ever ask for."

She smiles fondly, wrapping her arm around her waist as they lay in bed together. She smiles softly, wrapping her arm around his waist as they settle into bed together. "You're right. He's exactly what she needs. And knowing she has him watching over her brings me peace."

Zyren shifts, pulling her closer, his arm draping over her. "It's not easy, letting go, but she's growing into someone strong, someone who knows how to navigate the world on her own."

Sulyana rests her head against his chest, a contented sigh escaping her. "And she'll always have us—our love, our guidance. That will never change."

Zyren's heart swells as he runs his fingers through her hair. "We've given her everything she needs. The rest, she'll find her way to."

They lie together in silence, the quiet of the room wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. Zyren's mind quiets as Sulyana's steady breathing lulls him into a peaceful state. He kisses her forehead before relaxing next to his mate. "I love you." He murmured softly.

"I love you too," She replies, her voice warm and filled with love. "Goodnight, Zyren."

With that, they drift off to sleep, the weight of the day finally lifting, leaving only the quiet, reassuring presence of each other.