Page 81 of Kingdom of Chaos
I nod, and as I do the brightness flickers and then disappears.
“Wait, it just went away.” I search for the light, going as far as circling him to make sure it’s truly disappeared.
“It’s okay. I know what’s going on,” he says when I finish circling him.
“You do?”
He nods. “You just picked up another one of my powers. The ability to see magical auras.”
My mouth drops open. “That’s what that was?”
He plows a hand through his hair. “Yeah, that’s what that was. You were seeing my magical signature.”
“That’s fae magic,” I say in awe. “Rarefae magic.”
“It is.”
And I just stole it from Talon.
The pit of worry grows in my gut. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to stop taking your magic.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not your fault. You’re not doing it on purpose.”
“I’m not, but still. How do we stop it?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know that we can.”
“Talon, what if it doesn’t stop until I takeallyour magic? Including your own?” I say, voicing a concern that’s been bouncing around my head since I told Ensley what’s been happening.
He thinks about it for a second and then shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. My best guess is that you’re going to keep absorbing the powers I obtained through Shadow Striker, but not my own.”
“But you’re not sure.”
Sighing, he shoves his hands in his pockets. “No. I can’t be. This isn’t a scenario that’s happened before. Unfortunately, we can’t be sure of anything when it comes to this.”
I worry my bottom lip, and Talon’s eyes drop to my mouth.
His pupils dilate before he clears his throat and lifts his gaze. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll take it one day at a time.”
“I just feel so bad. It’s like I’m stealing from you.”
“You’re not. Those powers were never truly mine to begin with. You’re acting like I’m going to be left defenseless if you take them all. I was pretty powerful before I ever laid a finger on Shadow Striker. I can still best your princeling without any of my borrowed magic.”
I snort. Becks is the most powerful dragon shifter of his generation. “Sure you can,” I say sarcastically.
“Maybe one day I’ll prove it to you,” he says with a smirk.
“I hope not.”
He tilts his head, then steps in closer. “How’s your head?”
Before I can answer, his fingers brush lightly against my scalp, searching for the spot I hit. I flinch when he finds it, and he immediately pulls back.
“Sorry,” he murmurs. “You’re probably going to have a bump.”
“Yeah, probably,” I say, trying to sound casual. “It’s not that bad. I’ve had worse in sparring matches.”
He studies me for a beat longer, then straightens. “Okay. Let’s go. We’ve got a princeling to save.”
