Page 50 of Night Fae

He didn't know if it was the nature of their surroundings or something else, but he could feel Malik's heartbeat as if it were his own, could sense his thoughts brushing against the edges of his consciousness.

There was energy there, within that connection. Something Zev could take and use.

He wasn't sure if that would be wise.

But what choice did he have?

"Hold tight," he whispered to Malik, and then he drew on all the power he could gather, everything he had left inside him and everything he could pull from the warm mortal who clung to him.

Heat flooded his system in a rush unlike anything. The sensation was more intense even than when he'd fed on Malik. His thoughts escaped him as he lost himself in it.

He hadn't just acquired power.

Hewaspower.

He was a terrifying force.

He would bend to no one, least of all these shadow paths.

Without even thinking, he released magic in a burst, an explosion.

The darkness around them screamed—a sound felt rather than heard, vibrating through their very souls.

For one horrifying moment, they were everywhere and nowhere at once, stretched across realities.

Then they were falling, tumbling through empty space.

They struck something solid, Zev twisting at the last moment to protect the source of his power. Cold stone pressed against his back, and above them, a ceiling of black crystal reflected their faces back at them.

Zev barely recognized himself. That pale fae could not be him. Not when he felt so vast and mighty and uncontainable.

Except now that they were out of the shadows, all that glorious power receded, leaving him cold and empty andhungry.

So fucking hungry.

The human shifted on top of him, breathing hard, fingers still digging into Zev's shoulders.

He still contained energy…

Zev wanted it.

He needed it.

Without thought, he rolled until he was on top of the human, lips finding Malik's, forcing the connection between them wide open again.

Malik made a surprised sound that turned into a soft, pitiful whimper as Zev took what he wanted. His victim didn't pull away. His fingers loosened their grip on Zev's shoulders, his body going pliant as Zev drank—not blood or breath, but something more essential. Fear, anger, guilt, every negative emotion that could be turned into raw power in the hands of a night fae.

Malik tasted like moonlight and desperation, and Zev's whole body sang as dark energy filled the void the shadow paths had left behind.

He was alive, so alive.

Beneath his fingertips, Malik weakened, heartbeat stuttering, skin cooling.

But the more Zev took, the hungrier he became.

There was no end to it.

Malik's hand lifted weakly, but not to push him away. His fingers brushed Zev's cheek in a gesture he could not interpret.