Page 31 of Night Fae

The guard's struggles weakened, his eyes rolling back.

Thisdeath might bring Zev satisfaction.

The thought broke through his rage like ice water. He released his grip abruptly, letting the guard crumple to the floor, gasping and retching.

Zev stared down at his hand, now literally stained with blood while the guard wheezed, dragging himself away from Zev on trembling limbs.

"Say nothing of this," Zev ordered quietly, "or next time I won't stop."

The guard nodded frantically, one hand protectively covering his throat where bruises were already forming.

Zev glanced at the door to Malik's room.

What would the human think of him if he walked in there with fresh blood on his hand, having nearly killed a guard in a fit of rage? Having killed two werewolves in cold blood just hours earlier?

His hand dropped to his side, fingers curling into a fist so tight his nails cut into his palm, mixing his own blood with the guard's.

He did not need to justify his actions to a human.

"I've changed my mind," Zev decided. "I won't see him tonight."

The guard, still hunched against the wall, didn't respond.

Zev didn't look back as he walked away.

CHAPTER 7

The chambers Zev had been given were not his childhood rooms. Those had been stripped bare after his defection, his possessions burned in a ritual cleansing, or so he had been told. These were guest quarters—luxurious but impersonal, lacking in both comfort and memory.

But he was glad for the lack of memories these chambers stirred. He'd already had too many of those today.

Without further thought, he crossed to the washbasin and plunged his hands into the cold water, scrubbing the blood from his fingers.

After his hands were raw from washing, Zev retrieved the journal from his jacket. He sat cross-legged on the bed, flipping through pages of hastily scribbled observations and cryptic shorthand. Most entries documented changes in the shadow path's behavior—fluctuations in energy, instances where the path seemed to thin or widen. Later entries grew more alarming.

Day 47: Path breached surface for 3.2 minutes. Stones placed within disappeared. No retrieval possible.

Day 51: J.M. reports similar breaches at eastern site.

Day 58: Temporal anomaly observed. Path emitted cold light for 7 minutes. After dissipation, strange device recovered. Not one of ours. Inscription dated 1923. No such year in any calendar we know.

Zev paused at a detailed diagram labeled "Cross-Realm Contamination." It showed the shadow path as a dark river with tributaries branching into different colored sections—each representing a different world or realm. Notes in the margins documented increased "bleed-through" between these sections.

Near the back of the journal, a passage caught his eye:

The Night Court must know. The paths have never behaved this way, not in all our recorded history. Whatever ancient balance maintained the separation between realms is failing. If the Court won't acknowledge it, we need to bring this to the attention of the other powers. The Shadow King might listen where the Court won't.

The Shadow King. Caelen.

Zev almost laughed at that.

The wolves were going to seek assistance from Caelen, of all people?

The majority of the paths did run through his kingdom…

How ironic that Zev wished he'd ended upthereinstead of here.

He closed the journal when it stopped providing the distraction he needed.