Page 151 of Kingdom of Chaos
My breath comes easier. My heart beats stronger.
But as the seconds pass, the small relief I feel is overshadowed by the subtle, creeping dread that all is not well.
My gaze drifts to Talon and my pulse lurches.
The color is draining from his face, leaving his skin pale beneath its usual golden tan. His breath rasps, shallow and uneven, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscle flexes under his skin. A faint shimmer of sweat beads across his forehead, and there’s a tremor in his hands, small but unmistakable.
Then I feel it. That uncontrollable pull.
The silver and gold tendrils that appeared back in the creature world when I accidently bonded to the dagger, and that have appeared so many times since, now theysting, like they’recutting into him. I can feel his magic flowing into me, too much, too fast, like a dam bursting all at once.
I remember the way he coughed at my feet as he lay dying under the ruins after the last Chaos trial. His skin pale, his breath ragged, the way the magic drained from him and into me. How he asked me to get him through the portal before it was too late.
It’s the same wrongness I felt before. The same tightening in my chest, the same panic clawing at my throat as I watched him collapse that night, powerless to stop it.
No. Not again.
“Talon,” I whisper, my voice cracking, but he doesn’t meet my gaze. His shoulders hunch, tense and trembling, his breathing grows harsher, and I know he’s trying to hold himself together, but Ifeelit.
He’s slipping. He’s pouring too much of himself into me.
And it’s killing him.
A surge of strength born of panic, love, and sheer determination pulses through me and I lurch upright, forcing the healer to pause. There’s still a sharp ache in my gut where Shadow Striker cut into me, but I know without looking that the wound isn’t bleeding anymore.
I may not be fully healed, but it’s enough. It has to be. Talon can’t give me any more.
I grab his face in both hands, tilting it toward mine. His breath hitches. His blue-gray eyes strained, rimmed in silver, pass over my face as he assures himself I’m well before dropping down to my lips, then back to my eyes.
“Stop,” I whisper, desperate, my thumb brushing over his cheekbone.
Then I kiss him. Hard. Fierce. Like I can pour all my thanks, all my hope, all my everything into him and somehow save us both.
For a breathless moment, it’s just us, his lips moving against mine, his hands braced on my waist like he’s the only thing keeping me from breaking apart entirely.
I pull back, gasping, my forehead resting against his.
“I’m fine. I’m okay, I’m alive,” I repeat over and over again, knowing he needs that reassurance.
A shudder runs through him as his hands move up my arms to cup my face as the torrent of magic he’s trying to force into me ceases.
He leans back, gaze sweeping over me like he’s desperate to memorize every detail, every breath, every trace of life in my eyes.
His chest heaves. “I almost lost you,” he whispers, the words raw and frayed as they spill out. His thumb brushes gently over my cheek. A silent promise that he won’t let it happen again.
“But you didn’t,” I murmur.
A flutter of motion at the edge of my vision draws my attention, reminding me we’re not alone.
I catch Becks’ gaze first. His face is a mix of relief and sadness as he stares down at me in Talon’s arms, and my heart pinches. I never want to hurt him, but I know seeing me with Talon will always sting.
Beside him, Imogen stands with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face, reminding me of her concern and warnings for Talon. I glance back at him, still kneeling beside me. He looks drained, pale, and exhausted, but his gaze is steady, and the tension in his shoulders eases just enough for me to believe he’ll be okay.
Kade and the healer are there too. I thank her softly, and she gives me a quick nod of acknowledgement before saying she needs to check on the others. Kade thanks her as well, then she’s gone.
I push up to my feet with Talon’s help, feeling the lingering ache in my body but grateful for the strength to stand just as Ensley and Titus come hobbling toward us, slow but steady. Titus still looks rough, but he can move with Ensley’s support, giving me hope that with time he’ll recover.
When they reach us, Ensley glances at me, her face weary and tight. “Is it over?” she asks.
