Page 14 of Night Fae (Monsters of Veridia #3)

"Come on," Zev whispered against Malik's lips. His thumbs traced Malik's cheekbones, and finally, finally , the human responded.

His tongue touched Zev's lips and then they were kissing for real and Zev told himself he was only doing what was necessary. That the racing of his heart meant nothing. That the heat spreading through his body was merely because his plan was working.

Confusion swam in the depth of Malik's eyes when he pulled back. Pain flickered across his features. And something else—something warm and wanting.

"I—" Malik's voice cracked. His hand rose to his lips. "I felt that."

The wonder in his voice, the break in his flat affect, sent a surge of relief through Zev.

Gods.

This human really was adorable.

Malik's fingers trembled as he touched his own lips. Color rushed back into his face. Zev couldn't begin to guess what he was thinking, but at least he was having thoughts. That much was clear.

"We need to talk," Zev said, lowering his voice. "I want to feed on your nightmares."

Malik blinked as if he wasn't sure he'd heard that correctly. "You do?"

"I do."

"But you said?—"

Zev shook his head to keep him from saying any more. He wished he could explain his plan in detail, but that was too risky. "Will you let me do it?"

Malik looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. "I'll give you whatever you need," he said softly.

And how did Zev deserve that ?

He didn't know.

But this was not the time to question his good luck. Or the human's sanity.

This was the time to take action and get out of here.

Zev exhaled slowly. "This won't be pleasant for you."

"I understand," Malik said. "I've read the web novel. I know you make a nightmare more intense by drawing on it."

And yet Malik had offered himself many times.

Why?

At some point, Zev really needed to find out. Right now, though, they had more important matters to take care of. If one of the guards outside had alerted Lord Darius about Zev's night time stroll, they might be watched already.

Ironically, Lord Darius would love to see Zev feeding on Malik. He'd assume it meant he was winning, that Zev was giving in to his basest nature, returning to the son he'd raised.

What Lord Darius didn't know, and what Zev had realized, what he was hoping was true, was that feeding on Malik might give him enough power to turn against his family.

"Lie down." Zev's voice dropped to a whisper. "Close your eyes. I'll do the rest."

Malik settled back against the pillows. He nodded once before closing his eyes. "I trust you."

Those three words landed like blows. He was brave, this mortal. Probably more so than he gave himself credit for. Stupid too, for trusting Zev.

How could anyone trust Zev when Zev had betrayed his most important promise already?

He'd done the dirty work for his family again.

He drew in a breath.

Later, he told himself. There would be time to worry about all of that later, when they were both safe.

Gathering himself, he placed his hands on either side of Malik's face and closed his own eyes. His father had needed a potion to put Malik to sleep. Zev didn't need to rely on any such tricks.

He let his consciousness sink beneath the surface of Malik's, through layers of thought and memory to where nightmares dwelled. There, he dove into the deep and pulled Malik with him.

There was so much pain in Malik's subconscious, so much terror.

Zev found the memory of the car crash easily, but it was far from the only thing that scared Malik.

There were others too—newer fears, fresher pain.

The dark emptiness of the shadow paths. The cruel silver eyes of Prince Ashelon.

Zev himself, standing over dead werewolves, knife dripping blood, face empty of remorse.

So Malik was terrified of him after all.

Maybe he wasn't as stupid as Zev had feared. Not if Zev was one of Malik's nightmares.

And still the mortal trusted him.

Before Zev could linger on that thought, he grabbed a thread of fear and pulled on it.

Malik's body arched on the bed, a gasp tearing from his throat. His nightmares flooded into Zev—rich, potent, intoxicating. Power surged through Zev's veins like liquid fire, burning away weakness, filling up every empty space inside him.

Through the connection, flashes of Malik's memories crashed over him:

The car, metal screaming as it folded around them. His mother's voice, suddenly silenced. The weight of his father's hand on his arm, trying to shield him even as he died.

A hospital room, white and sterile. "The only survivor," someone whispered, not knowing he could hear.

Late nights alone, the empty house echoing with ghosts of laughter that would never fill it again.

The crushing guilt of having been the one to get away.

The power built and built, far beyond what Zev had anticipated. He'd known Malik's dreams would be juicy, but this…

This was a feast of a kind he'd never experienced.

He could feel the power crackle across his skin as he drank in deep.

Was it because Malik's survivor's guilt mirrored his own?

Was that what made this connection so energizing?

Zev didn't know. But he couldn't stop.

Beneath his hands, Malik trembled, tears streaming from the corners of his closed eyes. But he didn't fight. He bore the intrusion, willingly giving what Zev took.

Magic flowed into Zev, wild and untamed.

He noticed his glamor slipping by the way his fingers lengthened into elegant claws.

His skin would became paler too, showing the dark veins visible beneath while the violet of his eyes bled outward, consuming the whites until there was only swirling, glowing color.

Still, he didn't want to stop drinking.

New visions now—not memories but possibilities: Zev transformed into something inhuman, eyes empty as the void. Malik reaching for him, only to have his hand pass through like smoke. The Court breaking Zev piece by piece until nothing remained of the person he'd been.

No!

Zev finally recoiled, pulling himself away from Malik's mind with a gasp, reeling backward.

Power hummed through every cell of his body, making the air around him shiver. He felt... immense.

Unstoppable.

"Zev?" Malik's voice was hoarse, as if he'd been screaming. His eyes widened at the sight of Zev's transformed appearance; whether in shock or horror, Zev couldn't say.

"Is this you?" Malik asked. "The real you?"

Zev nodded once, sharply.

"Wow," Malik whispered.

"We need to go," Zev said. Power on this level would ping someone's radar. "Now."

Malik nodded, rising from the bed on unsteady legs. "How do we get past the guards?"

Zev smiled and knew it wasn't a kind expression. "That part's simple."

He moved to the door, placing his palm against the wood. Magic flowed from him, seeping into the structure of the palace itself, preparing the illusion he'd have to cast to escape.

"They'll see us leave this room," he explained, "but they'll see us heading in the opposite direction of where we'll actually go. Their minds will fill in the blanks, crafting memories of us walking down corridors we never touched."

Malik stared at him. "You can do that?"

"I can now." The admission sent a shiver of both pride and unease through Zev. He had never possessed this kind of power before. It was heady.

Addictive.

Malik stepped closer, swaying slightly. "I feel... strange. Lighter."

"It'll pass," Zev promised, hoping he wasn't lying. "Once we're safe."

He took Malik's hand and the contact sent a strange jolt through him, as if something sparked between them, as if the connection he'd forged to draw all that power was still open.

Why?

And more importantly, how ?

"Zev?" Malik asked, clearly sensing his hesitation.

Zev shook himself out of his momentary stupor. "Stay close to me," he instructed. "Don't speak. Just follow."

Malik squeezed his hand in response.

Zev opened the door. The guards straightened at his appearance, shock evident on their faces.

"My Lord," one began, his hand moving to his weapon.

Zev didn't give him time to finish. With a gesture, he cast his illusion over both guards. Their eyes glazed, following phantom versions of Zev and Malik that existed only in their minds.

"Come on," Zev whispered, pulling Malik in the opposite direction.

They moved through the palace like shadows, Zev extending his power ahead of them to cloud the minds of anyone they encountered. Servants, guards, even a minor noble—all saw what Zev wanted them to see.

The magic flowed eagerly. It wanted to be used, to reshape reality around him, to bend the world to his will.

It prodded at Zev to make his illusions more terrible.

It had been born from fear and it wanted to strike fear in the hearts of everyone.

You and me, it seemed to whisper in his ear, we can bring the world to its knees.

And it will be glorious.

Zev did his best to shake the thought.

Was this how his grandmother felt all the time? Seduced by terrible potential?

Zev didn't want to know.

By the time they reached the outer wards of the palace, sweat beaded on Zev's forehead. Maintaining the illusions while moving quickly had taken more concentration than he'd expected.

"We're almost there," he told Malik, whose face had grown alarmingly pale. "Just need to get beyond this final barrier, and then it's a straight path to the forest."

Malik nodded, his jaw set with determination despite his exhaustion.

The outer ward shimmered before them, invisible to most eyes but glowing silver in Zev's transformed sight. He pressed his hand against it, feeling the ancient magic pulse.