Page 142 of Kingdom of Chaos
For Ensley, I do.
“Okay, then. Let’s go get her back,” he says, his voice low and steady, and together we run.
Forty-Two
We don’t wasteanother second. With Becks in the lead, we tear back into the trees, racing toward the zoo, where they’re holding Ensley. The city’s lights glint cold and distant beyond the dome, a reminder of the normal world we’re fighting to protect. The sounds of battle rise with every step—lashing magic, the crack of weapons, the guttural cries of creatures and humans locked in a desperate fight for survival.
I try not to picture Titus, bloodied, exhausted, barely standing, still fighting to protect Ensley. But the image roots in my chest like a thorn, pushing me harder, faster.
My pulse hammers in my ears, my muscles burn like fire, but I don’t slow down. I push until I’m gasping for air, running on fumes alone. The others outpace me, stretching the distance between us, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t keep up.
Talon notices. Of course he does.
He hangs back, matching my slowing strides. His gaze cuts sideways, burning into mine, reading me like he always does. He doesn’t say anything, until I stumble on a crack in the asphalt and nearly hit the ground.
His arm snaps out, catching me before I fall. The contact steadies me; his voice is firm as he stops me in my tracks.
“Breathe, Freckles. We need a second.”
“I’m fine,” I say, shaking my head, struggling to keep going and catch up to the others.
Talon’s hand stays firm on my arm, sturdy and unyielding. His eyes narrow slightly, and I know what he’s about to say before the words leave his mouth.
“Locklyn.” His tone drops low, urgent but calm. “You’re our secret weapon, remember? We can’t afford for you to burn out before we even reach her.”
I open my mouth to protest, but the truth of it steals my breath. I’m at the edge of my limits, and if I collapse, I’ll be no help to anyone. Not to Ensley, not to Becks, not to Talon.
He glances up at the dome above, frustration tightening his jaw. “Not enough altitude. I can’t fly us there. We’ll have to run,” he says, almost to himself.
His gaze returns to me, softer now, fierce and protective. “Let me help you.”
Before I can argue, he bends over and sweeps me into his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
His strength is effortless, his body solid and warm against mine, even as the chill of his lingering frost magic clings to him. His breath brushes the top of my head as he mutters, “Hold on, Freckles. We’ll get her back. We’ll end this.”
He takes off like a force of nature, and I press my face into his shoulder, clinging to the solid strength of him as I try to level out my breathing. The rush of air stings my cheek, whipping my hair back in tangled streams. Each long, powerful stride vibrates through me, a reminder of just how strong Talon is, of how much he’s carrying. Not just me, but all of this.
Even without looking, I can feel us gaining on the others, their familiar footsteps merging with the noise up ahead.
The night has turned into a battlefield, a mess of colliding shouts, bursts of magic, and the sharp clash of metal. It presses in from every direction, but I force myself to tune it out, to focus inward and try to find my center. I grasp on to the threads of magic I know I have, except every time I reach for them, they slip through my fingers like water, leaving only a hollow ache behind.
That terrifies me more than anything.
As we near the zoo, the sounds shift. It’s not just the chaos of battle anymore.
There are animal calls. Low, panicked grunts, the rhythmic thud of hooves, the sharp crack of breaking branches, and somewhere, a high-pitched, keening cry that twists my gut.
The battle rages around us, laced now with a savage energy thickening the madness we’re already lost in.
Familiar voices break through the turmoil and I lift my head just as Talon slows, nearing a huddle of bodies surrounding a motionless form on the ground. I squirm in his arms and he lets me down. Becks glances up at me, his gaze haunted, and a chill runs through me even though I’m still overheated and coated in sweat.
I push forward, nudging Imogen to the side to get a clear look at what they’re surrounding, and a gasp rips from my throat. Titus lies crumpled on the ground, his body twisted like a ragdoll tossed aside. Blood stains his skin in dark streaks, seeping into the shredded remains of his shirt. His breathing is shallow and ragged, each inhale a struggle that rattles in his chest like broken glass.
Bruises bloom across his face, deep and mottled, and one eye is swollen completely shut. A jagged gash splits across his cheek, the blood still gleaming in the low light. His lip is cracked, caked with dried blood, and his hands tremble where they clutchweakly at the dirt, as if sheer will alone is the only thing keeping him from slipping away.
His chest rises and falls in uneven jerks, each breath a battle. He looks utterly wrecked, barely holding on to consciousness. Yet there’s a stubborn set to his jaw, a faint glint of defiance that lingers even in the midst of his collapse, because this is Titus, and he’s too stubborn to let go that easily.
I twist to Kade. “Do you have a healer?”
