"I understand," he said, pulling down his sleeve to cover the mark.
"Do you?" Lady Morvena returned to her desk. "You seem to have forgotten so much of your training. Truly a waste." She shook her head. "To think you were so promising once. I was going to wed you to the Moon Warden's family before you left a black mark onyourfamily."
Ah, and that was what truly rankled his grandmother about what Zev had done. He'd brought shame on her good name. That was why he had to suffer now.
"I am very sorry I could not marry into the Moon Warden's family," Zev said, though he was not.
Lady Morvena's smooth features wrinkled. "You would have made beautiful children, you and Ceris." She paused. "Well, she does have a younger sister, should you prove yourself worthy."
Zev didn't wish to prove himself worthy, but he was wise enough not to say it.
He was a night fae male. By the traditions of his kind, his future was not for him to decide. He would do as his matriarch decided, what was best for the family.
"I will do my job," he said just to end the conversation.
His grandmother studied him again. "Veridia's deadliest assassin, Zevran. I will not let you become anything less. I won't allow you to waste your potential, do you understandthat?"
"I do, grandmother." He bowed exactly the way he had been taught to do.
She looked at him for a moment longer. "I wish your mother had birthed a daughter. Daughters do not disappoint their families like this." She waved her hand vaguely. "You are dismissed, child."
Zev didn't look back. The mark on his arm throbbed with each heartbeat, a constant reminder of his chains. He would do what he'd been born to do. He would kill again. And he would find a way to make them pay for it—all of it—eventually.
First, he needed to hunt.
The western forest loomed before Zev, tall trees stretching toward a slate-gray sky. He'd traveled on horseback to the forest's edge, then proceeded on foot, each step carrying him deeper into memories he used to treasure but that would serve only as distractions now.
These woods. This path. He'd walked here before, but not alone.
The mark on his arm throbbed in time with his pulse, a persistent reminder of what waited if he got distracted from the task at hand. Malik would suffer.
"I don't want to be saved at the cost of your heart and mind,"Malik had said.
Zev paused, resting his hand against the rough bark of an old tree. He could run. Disappear into the wilds of Veridia where even the Court would struggle to find him.
He knew how to disappear.
But the price for his escape would be paid in Malik's blood before Zev could hope to return and free him.
What would Rhys tell him to do?
He'd probably ramble on about how Zev 'really needed to learn to make his own choices.'
"Youalwayshave a choice," Rhys had told him once. "Even when all the options are terrible."
Zev pushed himself away from the tree. The memory wasn't helping. If all his options were terrible, did it matter which one he picked?
He and Rhys had often fought about this. Rhys with his unwavering belief that Zev could be something better than he was.
And where had that belief led him?
Zev tracked on through the woods, emptying his mind. Malik was his ally. Zev would not abandon him, and that was that.
After another hour, Zev found what he was looking for.
The clearing appeared undisturbed at first glance. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy, dappling the forest floor with patches of gold. Zev moved cautiously around the perimeter, noting subtle signs of recent activity—broken twigs, disturbed earth, the faint scent of werewolf that lingered.
But something else caught his attention. A strange shimmer hung in the air at the clearing's center, visible only from certain angles—like heat rising from summer stones, but wrong somehow. Colder. Deeper. Zev approached with hesitant steps, his skin prickling with awareness.