Page 53 of Night Fae
One of the healers, a willowy fae with silver markings around her eyes, glanced up at him. "His life force was severely depleted. We're stabilizing him, but recovery will take time."
"Will he be okay?" Zev asked.
"That depends on his strength," the healer replied. "He's fighting."
"Of course he is," Zev muttered. Malik had shown nothing but determination since they'd met. Even after the shadow paths had feasted on his emotions, he'd fought his way back with nothing but a kiss.
Zev's kiss.
Swallowing hard, Zev pushed the thought aside.
Knox rested a hand on Zev's shoulder. "You should rest too."
Zev shrugged him off. He did not wish to rest. Now was not the time for it. "These are Caelen's people." He gestured at the healers working on Malik. "How do we know we can trust them?"
The healer who hadn't spoken so far snapped at him. "We would never harm a patient."
Zev was about to argue with her when Knox cut in.
"Zev," he said. "Do you know any other healers who could help us right now?"
He did not. But that didn't mean he had to like it. The healers were winter fae. Zev could tell by all the silver on their bodies. At least there was that.
They weren't related.
"Caelen isn't plotting against us for now," Knox said.
"You would trust the Shadow King?" Zev asked.
"Sometimes we have to forge strange alliances to get what we want." Knox didn't like it—that much was clear from the sound of his voice. But he was focused on the bigger picture.
Zev always struggled to see things that way.
The same way he struggled to see all the shades of gray that supposedly existed between black and white.
Zev liked his world in black and white.
Things were infinitely simpler that way.
This moment, he was black and Malik was white.
He didn't know about anything else.
"Adrian and I got here last night," Knox said while Zev was barely listening. "Caelen's people are still looking for Leon and Jamie. We have some reason to believe that Lyrian wound up in his hometown."
"With his grandmother?" Zev asked.
Before Knox could respond, Malik stirred, taking up all of Zev's attention as a small sound escaping his lips. The healers paused in their work, watching as his eyelids fluttered.
He was slipping into dreams.
Zev sensed it the same way a hungry wolf scented the faintest whiff of blood in the air—and his body responded without his permission. Power stirred beneath his skin, hungry and eager. His mouth went dry, senses sharpening until he could almost taste the dream taking hold of Malik.
"I need to go." Zev backed away from the bed, fighting the pull of his own desires.
He would not lose to those again.
Neveragain.
