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

The car rolled. Once. Twice.

Malik's seatbelt dug into his chest. His leg twisted. Pain shot through him.

But he lived.

He always lived.

"Malik."

Someone called his name. Who? His brother? Malik tried to twist his head to look at his brother, but he was stuck, he couldn't move, he couldn't?—

"Malik!"

More insistent now, and that wasn't Jamil's voice. That was… That was…

"Snap out of this."

Malik's eyes narrowed. He recognized that voice, but it didn't make any sense for him to be hearing it right now. What was Zev doing on the highway? Could he help? "Zev?" he called. "Over here! Please help my mother. I think she's hurt. And Maya. And?—"

The night fae came into view. Hands reached for him.

"No, don't help me ." Malik struggled against Zev's grip as the fae tried to pull him from the wreckage. "Help my brother—he's bleeding. Maya needs help. Mom's not moving?—"

"Stop fighting me." Zev snapped as Malik clawed at his arm. "And hold still for a minute."

"There's no time!" Malik's voice cracked. He could see the blood trickling down his brother's face, could smell gasoline and burning rubber. "Please, they need help?—"

Zev lifted him. "They don't need help. They're dead."

Terror clawed up Malik's throat. "No!" Why was the night fae saying such a horrible thing?

It couldn't be true. It couldn't be.

Zev carried him away from the car while Malik still tried to fight him.

"No, go back," Malik demanded. "Help them!"

Zev set him down on the asphalt. "Think, human. You know they're dead."

"No, they're not dead. They're right there." Malik tried to turn back toward the car, but the words died in his throat.

The wreckage was gone.

Four granite headstones stood in its place, stark against a gray sky. Names and dates carved in cold stone.

No.

A sob ripped from Malik's chest. "Why did I survive?"

"You're dreaming." Zev's hands settled on his shoulders. "Stop wallowing in your grief."

But Malik couldn't tear his eyes from the headstones.

Memories crashed over him—the funeral he'd attended in a wheelchair, coming home and picking up the pieces of Maya's half-finished puzzle from the coffee table.

Mom's wedding ring, cleaned of blood, placed in a velvet box.

Dad's reading glasses, folded on his nightstand where they'd never be picked up again.

"It should have been me." The words spilled out, raw and bleeding. "Why was I left behind?"

"Stop."

"If I hadn't suggested?—"

"I said stop."

"If we'd left a little later, if I hadn't hurried them?—"

"Oh for heaven's sake, human. Will you stop already?"

"I—" Zev's arms wrapped around him, and the shock of it cut off his words.

What was happening?

Whatever it was, Malik couldn't fight the desire to lean into it.

His face pressed against soft leather, and the tears he'd been fighting broke loose.

His fingers clutched at Zev's coat as grief ripped through him, fresh as the morning he'd woken up to the nurse telling him his survival was a miracle.

He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Could only feel the crushing weight of his 'miracle' pressing down on him.

Zev held him, silent and steady. No empty words of comfort. No platitudes about how it wasn't his fault or how they wouldn't want him to blame himself. Just the solid press of arms around him, anchoring him as the storm of grief raged.

Malik's tears soaked through leather and fabric. His throat burned. His chest ached.

Maya should be kicking ass at her dream job now. Jamil should be married. Mom should be planning holiday dinners while Dad urged her not to spend too lavishly.

But they were gone, and he was here.

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time felt strange in this dreamscape.

Finally, the sobs quieted to shuddering breaths. Malik's fingers slowly unclenched from Zev's coat.

He hadn't broken down like that in years. At least, not in someone else's presence.

"I'm sorry." His voice came out hoarse. "I didn't mean to… I'm sorry," he repeated. What had come over him?

What was happening?

Where were they?

Had Zev said he was dreaming?

Malik studied Zev, whose expression was closed off. If the night fae felt any which way about Malik using him as a pillow to cry into, he didn't show it.

Malik inched away from him. He'd offered for Zev to feed on him before, but this wasn't quite what he'd had in mind. This was mortifying.

"You entered my dream?" Malik asked.

"Your nightmare," Zev corrected. "You were making it very hard not to."

That response did not help Malik's feeling of mortification. "I'm… sorry?" he tried to apologize again.

What the hell was going on?

He was still so confused.

"My father gave you a sleeping potion."

Vaguely, Malik recalled something like that happening.

"I landed in Veridia," he remembered. "In the Night Court.

" A sense of dread accompanied his words.

He'd read all about the Night Court in the web novel.

He'd known it wasn't a good place to end up in, and he'd been all by himself too.

But then Zev had showed up in his room… and then Zev's father. "He gave me nightmares?"

Zev shook his head. "He made you sleep, but you created this nightmare all by yourself."

Malik winced.

But who wouldn't have nightmares after getting captured like that?

The worst part was that he'd gotten Zev caught too. He remembered that now. "Did you free yourself?" He gave the fae warrior another once-over.

"Sadly no," Zev admitted grudgingly. "But I needed you to stop having this nightmare because it was very distracting, so I came to shake you out of it."

Right. Zev hadn't come to console him out of the goodness of his heart, of course not. Nevertheless, he'd come to help Malik. Putting himself in danger.

"What are they going to do to us?" Malik asked, making himself voice the question even though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Whatever they think will break me fastest." Zev looked away, his jaw tight. "My father wants me back in the fold, and you're just a means to that end."

The dreamscape around them shifted, the cemetery fading into mist. They now stood in a blank, gray space.

Malik tried to remember everything he knew about Zev's backstory. His history , he corrected himself. Zev was not a fictional character, after all.

"You said you'd rather be dead than call this place home again," Malik mused. "Because of what they did to your?—"

"Don't even say it." Zev's voice sounded sharp. "I've had enough of this."

Malik swallowed and shut up.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Then Malik said, "The others will come for us."

At least he hoped that was true. Yuri had transported all of them here, hadn't he?

"We can't count on that."

"Knox and Lyrian wouldn't abandon you to your family."

"No, but they might have their own problems to deal with. We have to make our own plan."

"What plan?"

Zev glanced aside. "I don't know. Until I do, we bide our time and survive." His gaze narrowed. "The day will come that I will slit my father's throat."

His words were not accompanied by a lust for blood, which made them seem more like a definite plan than a quickly spoken threat. Zev knew he was going to kill that man one day.

Fae could not lie.

Malik felt like he should have been put off by the night fae's killer intent, but he wasn't. In fact, he appreciated that Zev wasn't someone who would sit idly by while fate pushed him around.

It added to the warrior's attractiveness. Sure, the purple eyes and the horns and all those lean muscles didn't hurt, but the way he could swing a sword?

Slice through his enemies?

That was what really sealed the deal for Malik.

Not that the night fae would ever be attracted to him in return.

Especially not now.

Malik had just cried all over him like a scared child.

Not very attractive.

In fact, right now Malik was the thing that dragged Zev down. It was for his sake that Zev had ended up in chains. "I'm sorry," he said, feeling the need to apologize again . "If you hadn't tried to help me…"

"I don't abandon my allies," Zev cited his honor code. He didn't seem particularly interested in shifting blame around.

Malik nodded. "Thank you." He looked around the gray dreamscape. "What happens when I wake up?"

"My father will continue to use you against me." Zev's expression hardened. "He'll try to force me to feed on your fear, thinking it will awaken my hunger for more. Make me remember what it feels like to be a proper night fae."

"Why don't you?" Malik asked. "Feed on me, I mean. I've offered before."

"Your nightmares aren't the kind I'm interested in eating."

Malik didn't know whether or not that should offend him. His nightmares weren't appetizing to Zev?

Well, fuck, Malik didn't particularly like having them either.

"My dreams would still strengthen your magic," Malik argued.

Zev shot him a look. "You're talking about things you don't understand."

"Then help me understand."

"Your dreams would feed more than my magic. My father realizes that. That's why he's trying to tempt me to take a bite. I've worked hard to achieve my peace. You would shatter it."

"What about my dreams… Oh." Understanding dawned. Malik had nightmares about losing the people he loved. Of course Zev wouldn't be untouched by that, after what had happened to his lover. "It's because of…" He didn't say more.

Zev had made it clear he didn't want to talk about Rhys.

They sat in silence for another short while. Then, Zev's head snapped up.

"Wake up." Zev's voice turned harsh. "Now."

"But—"

"Wake up!"

Malik jerked awake, gasping. The stone ceiling of their prison swam into focus above him. His eyes burned, face tight with dried tears. Across the room, Zev hung in his chains, watching him.

"Welcome back," Zev said flatly.

Malik pushed himself upright, muscles stiff from the hard surface of the cot. His mouth felt dry, head pounding with the remnants of whatever potion he'd been forced to swallow.

"How long was I out?"

"A few hours." Zev's eyes flicked to the door. "They're coming back."

Malik pushed to his feet, swaying slightly before finding his balance. As quickly as he could, he approached Zev and tried to get him out of his chains.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, realizing that it was no use. He'd never get these shackles off without the key.

"It's going to be okay," Zev said. "I'll get us out of here. Just don't do anything stupid."

"Stupid like what?"

There was no more time for talking.

The door to their torture chamber opened. Guards entered first, followed by Lord Darius, his elegant robes sweeping the floor.

"Well, well." Darius smiled. He held a silver goblet in his hand. "Did you two have a nice chat while I was gone?" His gaze flicked between them. "Or perhaps something more? Did my son finally sample what you're offering, human?"

Zev gave his father a look that could have turned water to ice in an instance. "Leave him alone."

"I'll take that as a no." Darius sighed. "Disappointing, but not surprising. My son always was stubborn about the wrong things." He gestured to the guards. "Bring the human."

Two guards advanced on Malik, seizing his arms.

"Where are you taking him?" Zev demanded.

Darius placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt. "You don't trust me with your pet? I'm wounded." He smiled. "Don't worry. Nothing is going to happen to him as long as you comply."

"Comply with what?"

Malik couldn't hear whatever response Darius might give as the guards dragged him toward the door. Malik's gaze remained on Zev. The fae's expression was carefully blank, but Malik could see the tension in every line of his body.

"Don't give them what they want," Malik called to him.

The last thing he saw before they pulled him from the room was Zev's face, eyes alight with anger as the door slammed shut between them.