Page 4 of Kingdom of Chaos (Creatures of Chaos #2)

My mom lifts her hands to her face, covering her nose and mouth as silent tears stream down her cheeks. My dad pulls her into his embrace, a watery smile on his face.

“We love you too, Locklyn. More than anything.”

I believe them.

It’s only then that I realize how terrifying this must have been for them. They’ve known the truth all along but never knew how I would react. I wonder if that fear alone is what kept them from having this difficult conversation sooner.

Even though I now know for certain that I’m not theirs biologically, I still haven’t unraveled all of Kerrim’s claims.

“I need to know,” I say. “Do you know who my birth parents are? Could what Mr. Brone, Kerrim, said be true? That I’m a human instead of a creature?”

My mom sniffs and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “Let’s go sit down in the living room. We have a lot to talk about.” She looks over at my dad. “Can you get it?”

He nods and leaves the room, and I follow my mom into the living room.

The shelves littered with books and potted plants, my favorite parts of this space, offer a small sense of comfort as I sink into the worn leather couch near the window.

My mom sits beside me, and my dad joins us a moment later, carrying a small wooden box clasped between his large hands.

He sets it gently on the coffee table and takes a seat in the armchair across from us.

“Your mom and I tried for years to have a baby,” he begins, the pain of that time still visible in his expression.

My mom gives him an encouraging smile, and he continues.

“This was back when we lived farther west, near your grandmother. One night, we were contacted by someone who said they knew we were trying to start a family and asked if we would be interested in adopting a baby girl.”

“It all happened so suddenly,” my mom adds.

“It was a private adoption. We were told the baby needed a home right away, and the paperwork had already been drawn up if we were willing. We said yes, and it felt like almost the next moment someone was at our door with a bundle in their arms. We didn’t even have a crib for you that first night. ”

Her face brightens with the memory. “But that didn’t matter.

The moment we laid eyes on you, we fell so completely in love, we didn’t want to let you go.

We took turns holding you all night. Just cuddling you and counting your perfect, tiny fingers and toes.

You were a miracle. Our miracle.” Her eyes shine with unshed tears, but her smile is radiant.

My dad smiles, tears gathering in his eyes for the second time today.

“You were the most perfect little chubby baby. When you grabbed my finger, your tiny hand could only wrap around half of it. We knew in that moment that you were meant to be ours, and we were meant to be yours. We never questioned that.”

My mom reaches up and wipes a tear from my cheek, and that’s when I realize I’m crying, too.

“Who brought me to you?” I ask, my voice soft. “What did they tell you about me?”

My parents exchange a somber look.

“We don’t know,” my dad admits.

“How is that possible?” I ask, confused.

“A fae woman brought you to us. We’d never met her before. She said you’d been abandoned and needed a home. After the papers were signed, she left you with us. We never saw her again.”

“What?” I don’t know much about adoption, but I know that’s not how it’s supposed to work. “Did you try to find her?”

My mom nods. “Yes. We tried. But we didn’t have much to go on, and we were afraid that if we made too much noise, someone would take you from us.”

I lean back into the sofa, my mind spinning. “What about the paperwork? All the legalities?”

“She had everything prepared. Including a birth certificate with our names on it. Legally, you were already ours,” she says.

“But, what if I’d been kidnapped or something? What if I had a birth family out there looking for me? Without any history, how do you know I wasn’t brought to you by nefarious means?”

My mom chews her bottom lip and glances at my dad.

“We should have considered all of that,” he admits.

“We probably should’ve done a lot of things differently.

But to be honest, everything felt so right in here”—he taps his chest—“that we didn’t really think about the consequences.

We moved to Everton shortly after you arrived, and because of the blend of red and brown in your hair, everyone just assumed you were our biological child. And we never corrected them.”

“Wait. What about Grandma? Does she know?”

“Yes, your grandmother knows,” my mom says. “You don’t have any aunts or uncles, and your other grandparents have passed. We made new friends when we moved and opened the business.”

“The birth certificate we were given has our names on it as well,” my dad adds. “No one knows about your adoption except your grandmother and us.”

“And Kerrim,” I add, unable to even think of him as Mr. Brone anymore.

Taking a deep breath, I force myself to readjust my reality. “So then, it’s possible what he said is true. I’m not a creature.”

“Hold on,” my dad says. “We don’t know that.”

“Don’t we?” I ask, arching a brow. “I never developed creature powers like I should have. No doctor has ever picked up so much as a speck of magic in me. And on top of that, I saw the portal open with my own two eyes when I grabbed Shadow Striker. I saw Becks and Mr. Brone go through it, and I saw it close behind them. That’s real.

And right now, everything points to Kerrim’s claims being real too. ”

My mother clasps my hand. “I’m so sorry for what you went through.

Chaos was diabolical. I’m here—” She glances at my dad when he clears his throat.

“I mean we’re here if you want to talk about anything.

And I understand if you can’t right away, but I hope someday you can forgive us for what we did. ”

Forgive them? For loving me? Raising me? Being responsible parents who only wanted the best for me?

Finding out I was adopted is certainly a shock, and I’m not happy I found out from someone else, but I’m also mature enough to understand where they’re coming from.

“Maybe I don’t agree that you didn’t tell me sooner, but it doesn’t mean I love you any less,” I assure them, and I can tell right away that they’re relieved.

They’re not going to like what I have to say next, so I might as well rip the bandage off. I stand, and both of my parents raise their eyebrows.

“Thank you for telling me all this and being honest with me. It means a lot, and I’m glad we finally talked about it, even if it was hard. I meant what I said. You are my parents, no matter what. And I know you both want me to stay safe, but I have to leave.”

“Leave?” my dad asks, a furrow forming between his brows.

“I have to find Talon and convince him to help me get Becks back. He’s the only person who might know another way to reach that other world.”

My parents exchange conflicted looks.

“You can’t just pick up and leave,” my mom says, wringing her hands. “What you’re talking about doing is dangerous.”

“Mom,” I say, locking eyes with her, “I can’t give up on Becks. You’ve known him for years. He’s stood by me when almost no one else would, never caring that I was different. If the situation were reversed, you know he’d go to the ends of the world, and beyond, for me.”

“But what about school?” she asks. “You’re only weeks from graduation.”

I almost laugh at that. School . Who cares about that at a time like this?

“I can go to summer school to graduate,” I say, the words tasting as gross as they sound, but for Becks I’ll endure.

“You want us to just sit back and let you go?” my dad asks.

I square my shoulders. “Yes, I do. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy for you, but I’ll technically be an adult in a few weeks. I have to do this, and you can’t keep me here. I’d prefer to leave with your blessing, but I’ll go without it if I have to.”

“But how are you even—?” my mom starts, and to my surprise, it’s my dad who stops her with a hand this time.

“Will you promise to keep us updated as much as possible? If there’s a way to get in touch with us and let us know you’re safe, I want your word that you’ll reach out.”

My dad’s gaze bores into me, and I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I promise.”

He nods, his face a stone mask, but I can see the concern shining in his eyes. This isn’t easy for him, but he knows it’s something I have to do.

I’m about to turn to leave when my gaze snags on the wooden box my dad brought in at the start of our conversation. I cock my head and point to it. “Is that anything important?”

“Right.” My dad grabs it and turns it over in his hands. “This is yours. You were wearing it the night you came to us.”

“We got a new chain for it,” my mom says with a wobbly smile. “We were planning to give it to you at graduation, but now feels like the right time.”

My dad holds out the box for me, and after sitting again, I take it. Even though it’s small, it looks large in my hands compared to his. It’s a clamshell box, so I crack the top open. Nestled in velvet is a pendant necklace.

Grasping the thin gold chain, I lift it, letting the purple stone pendant dangle in front of my face for a closer look. Light reflects off the teardrop-shaped gem, sending red rays dancing from its angles. I’ve never seen anything like it before.

“What kind of stone is it?” I ask.

“We don’t know, actually,” my mom says.

“We took it to a couple of jewelers when you were an infant, but they didn’t know either,” my dad adds. “One wanted to send it away to get tested, but parting with it didn’t feel right.”

The pendant’s design is simple. The teardrop stone is held in place by a plain gold mount through which the chain is threaded. The stone itself is the true standout. The deep purples are unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

Maybe it’s just because it feels like a small clue to where I’m from, but even though it isn’t ornate or elaborate, I instantly feel connected to it.

“I love it.”

I don’t realize I’m smiling until I glance at my parents.

“We’re glad,” Dad says. “I just wish we had more answers for you.”

I take a deep breath. I don’t need any more answers right now. Becks is the priority. But there’s a part of me that clings to the hope that I might find some answers about myself along the way.