Page 15 of Night Fae (Monsters of Veridia #3)

The ward gave way, creating an opening just large enough for them to slip through. Zev pushed Malik ahead of him, then followed, the barrier snapping closed behind them.

They emerged into the palace gardens, moonlight bathing the sculpted hedges and statues in silver. Beyond the gardens lay the outer grounds, and then miles of terrain before they'd reach the forest where Malik had been taken.

"We need horses," Zev said, pulling Malik toward the eastern side of the gardens. "The shadow paths are too far to reach on foot."

"But the stables will be guarded," Malik whispered, casting nervous glances toward the palace where lights were beginning to flare in the windows.

"Nothing I can't handle," Zev assured him.

His newfound power whispered reassurance to him.

There could be ten guards there, and he could kill them before they'd even notice him.

They moved through the gardens, keeping to the shadows of towering hedges. Zev's enhanced senses picked up every sound—the rustle of night creatures, the smell of the horses, the soft breathing of Malik beside him.

The stables stood at the edge of the palace grounds, separated from the main buildings by a wide courtyard. Two guards stood at attention by the entrance, their postures rigid and alert.

"Stay here," Zev instructed, guiding Malik behind a decorative stone wall. "This won't take a minute."

"Wait." Malik stopped him with a hurried whisper. "You won't kill them, right?"

Zev regarded the mortal silently.

Funny, until this interruption, he hadn't even thought to spare the guards' lives.

But he didn't need them dead either.

"Stay here," he repeated before he started moving.

He approached the guards from behind, gathering shadows in his palms. With a quick gesture, he sent tendrils of darkness wrapping around both guards' heads. They slumped to the ground without a sound, caught in dreams of Zev's creation.

Zev beckoned to Malik, who hurried over, eyes wide at the unconscious guards.

"Are they...?"

"Sleeping," Zev assured him.

Inside the stables, horses nickered softly in their stalls, disturbed by the late-night intrusion. Zev moved to a large black stallion, stroking its neck to calm it.

"This one," he said, quickly saddling the animal. "You'll ride with me."

Malik looked relieved. "Good. I've never actually been on a horse before."

Zev shot him a look. "I figured. You have very few survival skills."

"I can't argue with that." Malik scratched the back of his head. "D&D didn't prepare me for this."

Zev didn't know what D&D was, but whatever it was, it certainly wasn't going to help this human survive Veridia. That job fell to Zev.

Without further comment, he finished readying the stallion and led it out of the stall. He mounted first, then extended his hand down to Malik. "Hold on to me."

Malik grasped Zev's forearm, allowing himself to be pulled up behind the saddle. His arms immediately circled Zev's waist, holding tight.

Zero hesitation.

Did he really not mind Zev's changed appearance?

Or maybe he just really didn't want to fall off a horse, which was smart.

In any case, now was not the time to ponder that. Behind them, alarm bells began to ring throughout the palace.

"They know we're gone," Malik whispered, his breath warm against the back of Zev's neck.

Zev refused to let it distract him.

Grimly, he urged the stallion into a gallop as they reached the edge of the palace grounds. Ahead stretched open fields, then the dense forest that surrounded the Night Court's domain.

The wind whipped past them as they raced across the dark fields, Malik clinging to Zev—as he should.

"They're coming," the human called, glancing back at the lights appearing behind them.

Zev could hear it too—hoofbeats, voices, the distant howl of shadow hounds.

There was no way they'd make it to the excavation site Malik had mentioned.

But there was somewhere else they could go.

The place where he used to meet up with Rhys.

Swallowing the emotions that accompanied the thought, Zev steered his stallion toward a copse of old trees that rose like sentinels along the western edge of the fields.

As they reached the trees, Zev slowed their mount, weaving between the massive trunks. The forest closed around them, branches forming a canopy that blocked out the moonlight.

Behind them, the sounds of pursuit grew louder.

And there was the howl of the shadow hounds again, raising the hair on Zev's neck.

If they got caught…

No, they wouldn't.

He wouldn't let them get caught.

"Can we shake them off?" Malik asked, his voice strained.

"Just hang on," Zev said.

They pushed deeper into the woods.

If only they could go faster, but the forest was too thick. Branches scratched at Zev's face and arms, leaving thin trails of blood.

It had been so long since Zev had sought out this clearing.

Did he even remember the path correctly?

The forest had grown and changed, what if he was leading them nowhere, what if…?

No, there it was.

They emerged into a small clearing where the trees formed a perfect circle around a pool of still, black water. The surface reflected no stars, no moon—only darkness.

Another entrance to the shadow paths.

Zev wanted to breathe a sigh of relief.

But they weren't alone.

Three figures crouched around the pool, their clawed hands covered in soil from drawing symbols in the earth—symbols similar to what Zev had intended to create. They looked up as Zev and Malik burst into the clearing, their ears were furry.

Werewolves.

One of them—a broad-shouldered male with a scarred face—rose slowly to his feet. His nostrils flared as he caught Zev's scent.

"Night Court," he growled, his voice thick with hatred.

The other wolves stood as well, bodies tense. They were ready to fight.

"Wait," Malik called. "We're not?—"

But it was too late. The wolves had recognized Zev.

"You," the scarred wolf snarled, taking a step forward. "You're the one who killed Tomas and Erin."

Those must be some of the werewolves Zev had executed recently. Maybe they could smell it on him still.

"We don't have time for this," Zev muttered, dismounting. "Move aside. We're not here for you."

"Like you weren't there for our packmates?" The female wolf to the left spat at the ground. "You murdered them while they worked."

"I have killed many wolves," Zev admitted. What was the point in hiding it?

Of course, the admission only enraged them further. The scarred wolf began to change, his body contorting as bones cracked and reformed. Coarse fur sprouted across his skin, his face elongating into a muzzle filled with razor-sharp teeth.

The other two followed suit, though their transformations were slightly slower.

If Zev had wanted to, he could have killed them mid-shift.

It was what he should have done, really. They were wasting time.

Any moment, their pursuers might catch up with them.

But Zev didn't want to kill any more wolves.

Sadly, the wolves didn't care what he wanted.

The scarred one—now fully transformed into a massive beast that stood on two legs, its amber eyes burning with rage—lunged at Zev with supernatural speed.

Zev sidestepped, unleashing a whip of shadow that lashed across the wolf's chest. The creature howled in pain but didn't slow, spinning to attack again.

One of the other two circled around the horse, trying to swipe at Malik.

"Leave him!" Zev shouted, surrounding the horse with a barrier made of shadow, and while he did that, the third wolf joined the attack, coming at Zev from the side while the scarred alpha engaged him from the front.

Claws raked across Zev's arm, drawing blood that shimmered almost silver in the moonlight.

Zev hissed in pain, retaliating with a blast of power that sent the third wolf flying into a tree trunk with a sickening crack. The creature slumped to the ground, whimpering.

Behind them, the sounds of hoofbeats grew louder.

"Zev!" Malik called, alarmed.

The second wolf had broken through the shadow barrier, swiping at the horse, which almost threw Malik off.

Fury surged through Zev. He caught the scarred wolf by the throat, darkness wrapping around his hand, amplifying his strength. The wolf thrashed in his grip, powerful but unable to break free.

"I could crush your windpipe," Zev snarled.

Instead, he slammed the creature to the ground with enough force to stun it, then turned to deal with the wolf attacking Malik.

Moving with inhuman speed, he seized the mutt from behind, one hand twisting in the fur at the nape of its neck, the other pressing against its temple.

"Sleep," he commanded, pushing a tendril of power into its mind.

The wolf struggled for a moment, then collapsed.

Zev pulled Malik off the horse. Fortunately, the shadow barrier had kept the mount from bolting. "Are you hurt?"

Malik shook his head, still pressed against the tree. "No. But Zev?—"

The clearing exploded with light as a dozen mounted guards burst through the trees, shadow hounds snarling at their heels.

At their center rode Lord Darius.

"Zevran." His voice was cutting and cold. "This pathetic escape attempt ends now."

Zev positioned himself in front of Malik, and then he scanned their surroundings.

They had the lake to their backs.

Already, Zev could hear its shadows whispering at him, beckoning him.

Lord Darius dismounted, his boots striking the ground with an ominous thud. "Guards, secure the human. My son and I need to have a conversation."

Oh no, they were not going to have a conversation here.

And Zev wasn't going to let anyone touch Malik either.

But what could he do?

The wolves had delayed them too much.

Now they were out of time, out of options.

They had to dive into the shadow path, but Zev hadn't completed the protective symbols. Without them, the journey would be dangerous.

Nothing he could do about it.

If they didn't go, they would become his father's prisoners again.

"Hold onto me," he told Malik, pulling him close. "Don't let go, no matter what."