Page 139 of Kingdom of Chaos
“She’s just standing there,” she mutters. “Not moving. Not reacting. That’s not like her.”
I nod once, fists clenched. “It’s not her. Or . . . not entirely.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know it’s not just paranoia.
Her gaze cuts to mine, sharp with realization. “You think it’s a glamour?”
“Or an illusion,” I say, voice low. “Either way, something’s wrong. That version of her isn’t real.”
My fists clench at my sides. We agreed, no one moves until we get the signal.
But this? This is Kerrim rewriting the rules.
Whatever game he’s playing, she’s already on the board.
A pulse surges through me. Sharp, cold, electric. Like my veins are filling with ice instead of blood. My breath hitches, and I swear the air around me cracks with the force of it. Frost forms at my feet, webbing across the damp earth in thin tendrils.
Imogen notices.
Her head jerks toward me, her expression morphing from suspicion to outright shock. “What on earth?—?”
I can’t answer. I’m too busy fighting to stay in control. My teeth clench hard enough my jaw aches, but the power inside me—my creature—surges to the surface, wild and unrestrained.
My vision sharpens, the world gleaming like ice in sunlight, every detail glittering with a deadly clarity.
It’s never happened like this before. Not in all my years of suppressing what I am. But a wild instinct,a primal force, is howling that she needs me now.
I can’t hold it back. I don’t want to hold it back.
“Talon,” Imogen hisses, taking a step back from the sudden chill radiating off me. “What are you doing?”
The frost creeps up the trees, spreading along bark and branches like the forest itself is freezing in place. My heart pounds hard against my ribs, the ache in my chest tightening unbearably.
“She’s in trouble,” I grind out, voice barely more than a growl.
Imogen’s eyes narrow, scanning the field again. “She hasn’t signaled.”
“She can’t,” I snap, the words tearing from me. I take a step forward, my breath visible in the night air.
I don’t wait for permission, or backup. I move. Fast, silent, barely a whisper on the wind as I break from cover and head for the clearing.
Frost blooms in my wake, trailing behind me in jagged, shimmering paths as my body transforms into its other form.
I’m coming, Freckles. Hold on.
Forty-One
Sweat slicksmy hair to my face, running in rivulets down my back as I block another of Kerrim’s relentless attacks. My arms tremble, nearly too weak to lift, let alone fend him off for much longer. Every muscle burns, screaming at me to stop, but I can’t stop. I won’t.
I’m losing. I’m going to lose.
And there’s nothing I can do about it, because with every strike Kerrim seems to grow stronger, his magic crackling and pulsing brighter, while mine flickers like a dying flame, slipping through my grasp no matter how tightly I try to hold on to it or how much I pull on the power from the pendant stone.
Digging as deep as I can, I summon a shadow whip and crack it at him with the last of my strength. It snaps through the air, but the blow is so weak it barely grazes his side. He doesn’t even flinch. Instead, Kerrim smiles a sharp, unhinged grin that twists my insides into knots.
He’s not just doing this because he has to. He’s going to enjoy burying Shadow Striker in my gut. Going to savor twisting the blade and watching the light drain from my eyes as he finally takes everything for himself.
Kerrim thrusts his hands forward, a blast of wind slamming into me with bone-shattering force. My feet leave the ground as I’m flung backward, flailing through the air before I slam into the earth like a ragdoll, the impact knocking the air from my lungs.
A groan slips from me as I roll over, my side screaming in protest. Sharp, stabbing pain radiates through my ribs, stealing my breath, leaving me gasping, dizzy.
