Chapter 9 Zera
Zera
Zera’s heart raced within her chest, quickening its pace as if it wanted to break free. She stood alone in the small dressing room, feeling trapped and vulnerable. Warmth still coiled within her, a reminder of her heated moment with Maverick.
What was she thinking, letting herself get physical with him like that? It would only complicate their situation.
Oh, yeah. Because she was a woman with needs, needs that hadn’t been met in way too long.
“Get a grip, Zera,” she whispered to herself, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. But as she did so, her thoughts wandered back to her past experience with werewolves, and she questioned her feelings for Maverick.
He was a born Lunar Brotherhood wolf, hunter of pixies and her kind.
It was because of his werewolf pack that pixies feared to use their pixie dust, allowing the gland to dry up and causing future generations to be born without it at all.
She was one of the lucky ones. So how could she trust someone like him, let alone feel anything more than contempt for him?
Even if he wasn’t from the Lunar pack and was one of the others who didn’t care about pixies or involve themselves in the pixie-dust drug game, was she being foolish in thinking he was different from other werewolves who obeyed pack law above everything else?
The way she had been with her ex? She didn’t want to make the same mistakes twice.
She’d learned her lesson once. But still, there was something different about Maverick.
Perhaps it was that he was a lone wolf or something else entirely, she didn’t know.
What she did know was that their mission relied on them both having clear heads and blurring the line between reality and fiction.
What was real was that she was a pixie, and he was a werewolf from a pixie-dust hunting pack.
They despised each other for obvious reasons, and they would never work.
One of them would likely kill the other, and it wasn’t going to be her.
She was done being walked all over by wolves.
But then, she remembered how he’d saved her, her son, and Jade and Sloane from danger, putting his own life on the line.
Didn’t that prove that he was, in fact, different, like he’d said?
A part of her wanted to believe him, but another part remained guarded, fearful of what might happen if she let down her defenses.
She pressed her fingers against the cool wall of the dressing room, raking her fists through her tousled hair in frustration. She needed to focus on the mission at hand and not get distracted by her confusing emotions.
Maverick’s piercing eyes and the intoxicating citrus and caramel scent still lingered on her lips, filling her senses and making it hard to gather her thoughts.
The way his fingers knew just what to do, stirring a fire within her core that she knew he’d be able to ignite again with a single touch.
She was a woman with needs, after all, and if she was here playing married to a handsome man, why shouldn’t she enjoy all the perks that came with that?
“Ugh, why is this so complicated?” she muttered, but her words were quickly silenced when she heard a commotion outside the dressing room.
The sounds of scuffling and raised voices snapped Zera out of her reverie, forcing her to put those thoughts aside. Her instincts kicked in, and she focused on staying hidden. like Maverick had instructed.
She looked down at the dress she wore, remembering the shield function Maverick had shown her. The faeologist in her wondered at how it all worked, how the magical properties had been built into the fabric and invisible to the naked eye.
With her left hand, she traced a figure eight motion, activating the dress’s shield. As it shimmered to life around her, she felt a sense of determination surge through her. She was a mother, a survivor, and she would not let anyone or anything harm her.
The shield now surrounding her, Zera braced herself for whatever might come next.
A siren scream rang out, so loud she saw the sound waves ripple against the barrier protecting her.
It was as if the sound came from underwater, muffled yet still making her freeze out of fear of bringing attention to herself.
Zera’s heart raced, and tiny droplets of sweat glistened on her brow as she listened intently.
Whatever fight ensued beyond the dressing room, she got the sense that Maverick’s wolf form was putting up quite the struggle.
The snarling and growls grew louder, echoing through the air, intermingled with the cries of pain from the assailants.
But there were still others that sounded as though they were putting up a good fight.
“Where is she?” one of them hissed, loud enough for her to hear from where she hid.
Her grip tightened on the edge of her dress, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to maintain her composure. A grunt of pain followed by a whimper of agony pierced through the chaos. Maverick. He was in trouble. She had to do something. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry.
She clenched her fists, wishing she could help but not knowing what to do. Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the sudden, violent yanking open of the dressing room curtain, exposing her hiding place.
“Found you, little pixie.” The assailant greeted her with a slow smile, revealing jagged teeth.
Her eyes locked on the two slits for pupils, and something clicked inside her mind. It was the bartender from the seedy bar who had served them drinks. The snake shifter.
“It’s you!” She gasped, blinking in disbelief. But he worked for Quill, didn’t he? Had Quill sold them out?
She didn’t have time to process this as the snake shifter grabbed her by the hair and pulled her out from the sanctuary of the dressing room and into the private show room that was now torn apart by the ongoing battle.
The air crackled with energy as she stumbled, her shield dissipating upon contact with the assailant’s grip. Fear and anger twisted in her gut.
“I’m no pixie! Let me go!” Zera cried out, fighting the urge to use her pixie dust. She had to maintain her cover for as long as possible.
“Shut up!” the snake shifter snarled, tightening his hold on her hair while the other gripped her shoulder so tightly it made her eyes water.
Zera’s heartbeat echoed in her ears as she searched for Maverick amid the chaos. Fear clawed at her insides, but she refused to give in. She knew she needed to stay strong for Cole, even if it meant fighting back against this snake who smelled like sulfur.
She swallowed a bit of bile that rose up at the stench, fighting against the snake shifter’s grip with each step as he nearly dragged her to the front of the shop. Racks of clothes and mangled hangers scattered across the floor, some torn and trampled under the weight of the ongoing fight.
Felice battled a fae with pointed ears, red blood dripping from the fae’s earlobe.
Felice’s siren scream earlier must’ve busted eardrums. But the snake shifter showed no effect, probably because snakes had more subdued hearing abilities.
It must’ve made this shifter less susceptible to the siren’s power.
Finally, her eyes met Maverick’s as he fought the other two attackers with bleeding eardrums. His body shuddered, rippling back into his human form.
His face twisted in fear and anger, as if he knew he wouldn’t be able to get to her in time as the snake shifter pulled her to an emergency exit on the side of the store.
“Zera!” Maverick shouted, his voice strained. He landed a vicious punch on one of them, sending the fae stumbling back into a pile of broken mirrors. But the distraction gave the other attacker precious seconds to dodge Maverick’s counterattack and to land a fierce kick to his chin.
Maverick hit the ground with a thunderous smack. Panic surged through Zera. She had to do something, anything to escape this snake shifter’s grasp.
The dress. It had weapons. How did she activate the dagger? Or the other ones? She swiped her hand in the formation she thought activated the dagger, but instead of triggering the intended weapon, a cascade of tiny firecrackers burst from her dress, creating a colorful-yet-ineffective display.
“Damn it!” she muttered under her breath. What the bloody fae was that useful for?
They were nearly to the door, and she knew as soon as they were out of Felice’s boutique, she was done for.
The snake would shift or use whatever magic he’d used to make her drink appear the night before and teleport them far away from Maverick.
Or maybe the snake shifter couldn’t move anything larger than a cocktail glass.
She didn’t know, but she didn’t want to find out.
Either way, if she didn’t figure something out soon, she would lose any chance of getting out of this alive. She’d never see her son again. The numbing thought made it hard to breathe and threatened to send her into a spiral of despair.
No, she wouldn’t let this snake win. She tried again. This time, a small cloud of glittering smoke puffed out, obscuring her vision momentarily but doing nothing to deter the snake shifter.
As he tightened his grip on her hair, sending searing pain through her scalp, Zera knew she was running out of options.
She had to find the right weapon or risk being taken away by this vile creature.
Determination fueled her actions as she swiped her hand once more, praying this attempt would finally free her.
The circular motion produced the black dagger. Relief washed over her as she used the self-defense moves she’d learned after too many close calls at Haven Wolf Tavern when someone out of town got a little too handsy.