Page 48 of Creatures of Chaos

“Lock,” he prompts, and my gaze drifts back to him. There’s a deep groove between his brows and his eyes look tired.

“Yeah,” I croak, my voice rough. I try to sit up and the world spins. “Whoa,” I say, and almost tip over, but Becks puts an arm around me and helps me back to a seated position.

“Take it slow,” he urges, and I wince. The lights are too bright and the muffled voices coming from behind the door make my ears ring.

“What happened?” I ask while rubbing my eyes.

Becks doesn’t respond so I drop my hands and glance over at him. A muscle in his jaw jumps and I swear I can hear his teeth grinding. His eyes go slitted, he shudders, and then a shock of scales flash down his arm before disappearing again.

Whoa. Becks never has issues holding back his shift. He must be furious.

I rack my brain, trying to remember what happened. I was fighting with Talon in the cage, we traded blows, but nothing serious. I may have a few bruises from it tomorrow, but I’ve been injured worse during sparring at the gym. The time was about to end and then . . . nothing.

“I’ve got it from here,” Becks says to the strangers in the room, and with nods and a few polite words to me about being glad that I’m okay they filter out. “Talon knocked you out,” Becks finally grits out once we are alone.

“What? He did?” My mind is a little muddled and I’m light and sound sensitive, but it reminds me more of when I accidentally took too much of my mom’s herbal meds for sleeping and woke up the next day with something akin to a hangover. I probe my head with my fingers, but don’t come across any sore areas.

“Are you sure?” I ask, and Becks gives me a look like I’m stupid that makes me bristle.

I’m not an idiot. I’ve been knocked unconscious before. It doesn’t happen often, but occasionally things go a little too far in sparring and someone gets hurt. This doesn’t feel like that.

“I watched you go unconscious in his arms after he punched you in the temple,” Becks says bluntly. The scent of smoke and ash starts to taint the air.

“Huh.” I can’t think of any other explanation, so I guess he did knock me out. Weird that I don’t remember and can’t find a sore spot.

With Becks’ assistance, I get to my feet. When I sway a little, Becks wraps an arm around my back to steady me. Clamping his hand on my opposite hip, he anchors me against his side. I can’t say I mind the contact at all, at least until I remember how sweaty and gross I am.

“So who won?” I ask as I squirm away from his hold.

Becks’ nostrils flare, telling me who won before the name even leaves his mouth. “Talon.”

“At least I lost to the winner,” I say with a shrug as I look for my clothes, which I find neatly folded on a nearby chair.

“Are you kidding?” Becks asks, disgust heavy in his voice. “That’s all you’re going to say about it?”

“It’s not like he jumped me in an alley or anything.” I sit down to pull my socks and shoes back on, and then stand with the small bundle of clothes tucked under my arm. “It was a match. He won.”

Honestly, I didn’t feel too bad, and now that the second trial is over, euphoria that I’d made it through to the next round of Chaos is starting to bubble up inside.

“I don’t care if it was the bloody World Cup he was competing for, he still shouldn’t have hurt you.”

Am I happy Talon knocked me out in our match? No. But I don’t hold it against him. Clearly Becks does.

“Let’s go,” I say, not having the energy to argue with my friend. It’s been a long night. All I want right now is to soak in a warm Epsom salt bath. The fuzziness in my head has mostly dissipated, but my muscle and joint soreness hasn’t.

Becks clamps his mouth shut and nods.

I’m not two steps out of the room when I hear, “Hey, are you all right?”

When I look over, Talon, who’s changed back into his clothes, pushes himself off the wall next to the room and starts towardme. He was obviously waiting for me. I don’t get to answer him though. Becks is up in his face before I get a chance to.

“What are you doing here?” he growls.

Talon tries to move around Becks, but Becks isn’t having it and blocks him.

A flash of frustration passes over Talon’s features. “Look, I’m just checking on Locklyn,” he explains. The use of my name rather than Freckles sounds weird to me.

“You don’t get to do that after you’re the one who hurt her,” Becks says, and Talon visibly flinches.

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