Page 18 of Night Fae

"Conditions?" Darius started, but Lady Morvena silenced him with a mere glance.

"Speak them," she commanded Zev.

"After each assignment, I want to see Malik. I need to confirm he's unharmed."

Lady Morvena studied him for a long moment, her ancient eyes searching his face. "You would be wise not to grow even more attached to this human, Zevran."

"I'm buying his safety with my service. I want to see what I've purchased. Is that not wise?"

His grandmother stepped closer, her power prickling against his skin like frost. "Very well. Complete your assignments to our satisfaction, and you may see your human. Fail us in any way..." She left the threat hanging, unnecessary to voice.

"I understand," Zev said, the weight of his childhood obedience settling over him again like a familiar, suffocating cloak.

Lady Morvena nodded to the guards. "Release him."

The guards hesitated, looking to Darius, who nodded his permission. They approached cautiously, unlocking the spelled chains with a series of clicks. The metal fell away, leaving red marks on Zev's wrists.

Zev rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the stiffness in his bones. Freedom, however temporary, felt like the first breath after drowning.

"Before you begin your assignment," Lady Morvena said, "there is the matter of demonstrating your renewed loyalty."

Zev's jaw tightened. "I agreed to kill for you. Isn't that demonstration enough?"

His grandmother's smile chilled him to the bone. "Words are wind, Zevran. Even for fae. How can we let you walk out of this palace without knowing your resolve is true?"

"The Court has a prisoner awaiting execution," Darius explained, stepping forward. "You will carry it out."

"You raised me to be an assassin," Zev challenged, gaze shifting between his father and grandmother. "Not an executioner."

"We raised you to do as the family commands," Lady Morvena corrected. "This prisoner shouldn't trouble you. We've already caught and convicted them. Their life is forfeit."

"Then why do I have to do it?" The question came out sharper than he intended.

His grandmother's eyes narrowed. Zev half-expected her to slap him with the back of her hand for his insolence as if he were still a child, but she didn't.

"To show that you can follow our rules," she said softly. The quieter her voice, the more dangerous she became. "To prove that your years away haven't made you forget who you are. Who we are."

Zev knew better than to push further. "Fine," he said, the word clipped. "Let's get this over with."

Darius approached with a silver goblet, the same one from earlier. "Drink first. Regain your strength."

The scent wafting from the goblet made Zev's stomach clench with hunger—blood mixed with distilled terror, harvested from some poor soul in the dungeons. Once, he'd savored such concoctions.

"No," Zev said, turning away. "Let's just get this over with."

"You'll need your strength," his father insisted.

Lady Morvena waved a dismissive hand. "If the boy wishes to suffer unnecessarily, that's his choice." Her eyes held something calculating. "Pride has always been his weakness."

Pride wasn't why Zev refused. He just couldn't stomach accepting anything from them. They'd take any chance they got to turn him into something he didn't want to be.

They led him through corridors he'd once known better than his own reflection. Guards stepped aside, heads bowing to Lady Morvena first, then to Darius. Some looked at Zev with recognition, others with wariness. Word of his return had spread.

"The Court has missed your particular talents," Lady Morvena said as they walked. "There have been... challenges since your departure."

"Challenges?" Zev kept his tone neutral despite his curiosity.

"The barriers are weakening," Darius explained. "Strange things are appearing where they shouldn't. People are disappearing as well."