Page 80 of Kingdom of Chaos
“We’re not going in there half-cocked,yelling Becks’ name,” Talon reminds me unnecessarily.
I shoot him a sideways glance as we weave through the throng of New York City evening commuters, dodging briefcases and coffee cups, as they rush to catch their trains home. He’s watching me like he expects me to lose it at any second. Like I’m a ticking bomb.
“Yes,Dad, I know.”
Talon’s lip curls and his nose scrunches in disgust at being called “Dad,” and the sight makes me laugh. My heart feels impossibly light, like nothing in the world could bring me down.
Ensley and Titus staked out the café across from the Order’s headquarters. They watched two humans exit the three-story building and cross the street to grab coffee. Thanks to their enhanced hearing, they overheard the pair discussing an injured creature brought in earlier that week. The two were arguing about whether their leader, someone named Kade, made the right call by bringing the creature back to headquarters.
There’s no doubt in my mind they were talking about Becks. The timing and everything lines up perfectly. Which means he’s not only alive, but close.
“I know you want to get your princeling,” Talon says, giving me an uneasy look. “But we have to be strategic about this. The members of the last Order chapter were hostile. We need to move forward assuming the same of this group.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” I say, waving a dismissive hand. “We’ve been over it already. We’re just going to try to find a way into the building. We’re not going to engage or stage a prison break . . . yet.”
I expect Talon to make a remark about the whole prison break thing, but when he doesn’t, I glance over and notice he looks a little worn out. There are faint shadows under his eyes I hadn’t seen earlier, and his skin is pale again.
He got plenty of rest last night and hasn’t done much physically today. We spent hours working on my magic, but I was the one expending most of the energy.
Is he getting sick? Or are his wounds not healing like they should be?
“Hey,” I say, laying a hand on his arm. “Are you okay? How are your wounds? Are they healing?”
He nods. “Yeah, they’re fine,” he says, but he angles away from me, giving me the impression he doesn’t want me checking.
“If you’re not up to this, we can go back and see if Ensley or Titus want?—”
Suddenly a stabbing pain drills into my temples, forcing me to my knees in the middle of the busy sidewalk. Talon calls my name, but I can’t concentrate on him over the red-hot agony. I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my hands against my head.
Talon scoops me into his arms and starts running, but I don’t open my eyes to see where he’s taking me. The pain intensifiesuntil I think I may pass out, before it disappears as quickly as it began.
“Freckles, look at me,” Talon begs, carefully setting me down on what I hope is clean ground.
I’m scared to open my eyes, but the fear in his voice forces them open. The moment I see Talon crouched in front of me, I gasp and jerk back, only to slam my head into a brick wall.
“Whoa, whoa. Careful.” He cradles my head, probing the back where I hit it against the wall. His gaze skims over me, checking for injuries he won’t find.
“Talon.”
Reaching up, I grab his wrist to get his attention.
“What?” he asks. “Are you okay? What just happened?”
I stare at him with wide eyes, confused as to what I’m seeing. “You’re . . . glowing.”
His brow furrows as he glances down at himself, then back at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You hit your head pretty hard. Maybe we should get it checked out at a human hospital.”
He tries to get me to my feet, but I swat his hands away and stand on my own.
“No. I mean yeah, I did hit my head, but that’s not it. I swear, it’s all around you. Like a soft glowing blue and white halo or aura.”
As Talon stands before me, a shimmering halo that looks like captured starlight rings him. Its outer edges are soft icy blue and pulse gently like the rhythm of a heartbeat. Closer to him, the glow brightens into a radiant white, almost too pure to look at it directly—like moonlight reflecting on fresh snow. The two colors blend seamlessly, giving the illusion of movement, as if the air around him is alive with energy, bathing him in an ethereal light. Faint wisps of luminescence curl off its edges, trailing like smoke in slow motion.
It might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
And it’s really freaking me out.
“An aura?” he asks, freezing.
