Page 121 of Night Fae

"No," Zev assured him. "I won't do anything so noble."

Through their bond, Malik's emotions crashed into him—the sharp edge of his fear, the granite of his determination, and beneath it all, a current of trust so steady it kept him grounded against the chaos.

When had anyone ever trusted him so completely? That connection became his lifeline as he summoned the deity's residual power still burning through his veins.

Magic erupted from his hands, shadows inlaid with a purple glow.

The binding framework strengthened, slicing through the entity's darkness. At the center, the deity contorted violently—its form expanding and contracting as it resisted.

Zev felt each struggle as a corresponding pain in his chest, the power channeling through him threatening to tear him apart from the inside.

A sudden absence at his side made him turn.

Malik had collapsed to one knee, skin drained of color, eyes half-closed. Without hesitation, Zev redirected a thread of power back through their bond, instinctively knowing how to modulate the flow. He watched color return to Malik's face as their energies synchronized, relief flooding through him with unexpected intensity.

"Balance it!" Leon's words registered dimly as Zev concentrated on the delicate equilibrium between power and control.

Across the chamber, the others maintained their positions, but Zev barely registered them. His world had narrowed to three things: the power flowing through him, the pattern they were creating, and Malik beside him. Everything else faded to background noise.

Shadow creatures surged toward them in desperate waves. Zev sensed rather than saw them, feeling their hunger as an echo of the entity's rage. Night Court soldiers fought the monsters.

Good.

Zev had no energy to divert to them.

The deity's essence seared through him like molten metal, threatening to unmake him. It was the strangest sensation. As if he was unraveling, dissolving into the energy he channeled.

Was this how it would end?

No, he would not sacrifice himself.

He'd promised he wouldn't.

"Zev!" Malik's voice pierced through his disintegrating consciousness, raw panic making it almost unrecognizable. "You're disappearing!"

"Still here," Zev forced out, though he wasn't entirely certain how true that was. His awareness floated, untethered, as the power consumed more of his physical form.

Malik's fingers dug into what remained of his arm with desperate strength. "I didn't pull you from the Fields to lose you now!"

Through their connection flooded something entirely different from the magical energy he'd been channeling—Malik's essence, the stubborn humanity that had saved him before. Not just emotion but substance, a tether to physical reality that refused to let him dissolve. Zev felt himself solidify, molecule by molecule, pulled back together by nothing more complicated than Malik's refusal to let go.

"Complete the binding!" Leon's command barely registered as Zev focused on maintaining the flow of power without losing himself again.

The binding pattern surged inward, encompassing the deity. Where shadow touched light, transformation occurred.

Zev felt each shift and realignment as physical sensation—pressure and release, tension and resolution.

One final surge of resistance tested the framework, reality buckling around them. Zev channeled everything he had left into the pattern, past pain, past exhaustion, into a place where only will remained.

Finally, the deity submitted.

The release of tension was so sudden that Zev's legs gave out. Warm arms caught him before he hit the ground. Malik. Always there, somehow. They crumpled to the cracked stone floor together, Zev's consciousness swimming in and out of focus.

"Is it finished?" Daniel's voice sounded distant.

Zev didn't hear Leon's response. He concentrated instead on the sensation of fingers threading through his hair. Malik's hand.

"Are you alright?"