Page 95 of Night Fae

He got up and kept moving.

The cold closed around him, deeper this time. The thread connecting him to Zev pulled him forward, but the paths had not given up feeding on him yet.

The scene shifted around him.

Something colder than the darkness cut into Malik's arms.

Chains.

Suddenly he was kneeling on the floor with Zev standing over him, holding a blade.

"Choose," Lord Darius said from somewhere behind Zev. "Your loyalty to the Court, or your human pet."

Zev's face was blank, eyes cold and empty as he raised the blade.

"This isn't real either," Malik said firmly, though his heart raced. "Zev would never hurt me."

"Wouldn't he?" the shadow-Zev asked, his voice unnervingly familiar. "You've known me for what—weeks? What makes you think you matter more than my family?"

"Because you risked everything to protect me," Malik answered. "You killed for me, even though it broke something inside you."

"And now you've seen what I truly am," shadow-Zev continued, pressing the blade against Malik's throat. "A killer. A monster. Did you really believe I could care for someone like you?"

Malik swallowed, feeling the cold edge against his skin. "This isn't you talking. The real Zev is trapped in the Fields, caught in his own nightmare."

"And if you free me?" shadow-Zev asked, leaning closer. "What then? Do you think I'll fall into your arms, grateful and loving? I will never love you as I loved Rhys. Never."

The words cut deeper than any blade, striking at Malik's deepest fear. But this was a trap.

This was the shadow path trying to exploit his doubts.

Would Zev ever truly love him?

"Maybe not," Malik admitted, doing his damnedest to keep his voice steady. "But that doesn't matter now. I'm not saving him to make him love me. I'm saving him because he deserves to be free, because no one deserves to be trapped in their grief forever."

The shadow-Zev faltered, the blade wavering.

"And even if he never feels for me what he felt for Rhys," Malik pushed on, "that doesn't make what we have any less real. Different doesn't mean less."

The vision shattered around him, dissolving back into darkness. The connection in Malik's chest burned brighter now, almost painfully strong. He was getting closer.

"I reject your illusions," he said out loud, and then he repeated his words like a mantra as he kept going.

The paths no longer felt like they were fighting him; instead, they seemed to bend around him, guiding him deeper.

The darkness gradually lightened to a misty gray. Malik sensed he was nearing the Fields of Memories. The pull in his chest had become almost painful again, but in a different way—not draining, but urgent.

I'm coming, Zev. Hold on.

The mist parted, revealing the silver-grass clearing he'd seen in his vision. The ancient gnarled tree loomed ahead, and beneath it stood Zev and the false Rhys, surrounded by shadow tendrils that had nearly consumed Zev completely.

Time to fight for what was real.

CHAPTER 20

Zev floated in a silver haze of memory and desire, reality dissolving around him until nothing remained but Rhys's face, his touch, the sound of his voice. They sat together beneath their tree—their place, the secret clearing where they'd first dared to believe in something beyond duty and survival.

"I've missed you," Zev whispered again because it was the truest thing he knew.