Page 57 of Kingdom of Chaos (Creatures of Chaos #2)

Thirty-Five

Crunch.

An obnoxious noise yanks me from sleep, and when my eyes pop open I come face-to-face with Imogen.

She’s perched in a nearby armchair, legs casually propped on the edge of the bed, way too close to my face.

A shiny red apple, already missing a bite, rests in her hand as she chews and stares at me like she’s been waiting.

She swallows, then grins. “One day and you’re already crawling into bed together. I’m impressed.”

She takes another bite, somehow managing to grin around the chew.

“It’s not what—” I start, but I’m cut off by a low groan from behind me.

Talon grumbles incoherently, then slings a bare arm around my waist and tugs me back against his chest.

Imogen raises a brow, smug. “You were saying?” she says, nodding at the arm currently wrapped around me like a vise.

I roll my eyes, more annoyed she’s disturbed my peace than embarrassed.

That was the best sleep I’ve had since we entered the human world. All I want to do is soak in Talon’s warmth and burrow back under the covers.

I’m about to tell her to shove off when the reason she was gone last night hits me.

Kerrim. Ensley.

She was supposed to try to find her.

Drowsiness vanishes, replaced by a spike of adrenaline. I bolt upright, Talon’s arm slipping away as he startles awake beside me.

“Ensley?” I ask, and the grin slips from Imogen’s face. She shakes her head, and it feels like a ball of lead drops into my stomach.

The bed dips as Talon slides out behind me.

“You tried, but it was always a long shot,” he says, his voice rough with sleep.

I peek over my shoulder at him and immediately forget what I was going to say.

His dark hair is tousled, a little messy from sleep, and there’s a faint crease on his cheek from the pillow. His eyes are still heavy-lidded, the stormy blue-gray softer in the morning light. Even half-awake, shirtless and stretching, he looks effortlessly lethal and unfairly good.

Wait, shirtless?

I quickly scan the bed and the floor.

Didn’t I make him put on a shirt before getting in bed? Where did it go?

“We still have a solid plan in place,” Talon says, and I give up on my search. Let’s be honest. I can’t be mad about a shirtless Talon.

“We’ll get her back tonight and end this. Then we’ll all go home.” He says it with so much conviction, I almost believe it’s true. He glances at me, then adds, “We should get going. Lots to do today.”

“Understatement,” I say, but nod in agreement.

He starts toward the adjoining door, but just before slipping through it, he turns back and gives me a slow once-over that has heat creeping up my neck.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” he says.

The words hit me harder than I expect. I barely stop myself from smoothing my hair or pulling the blankets tighter. He says it so casually, like it’s fact, not a compliment or a flirtation. Just something he needed me to know.

With that, he enters his room and shuts the door.

Just before it closes, I catch a glimpse of Titus stepping out of the bathroom, a towel slung low around his hips.

There’s hardly a bruise left on his face, and the wound on his side is closed, already healed more than Talon’s, even after nearly a week.

The reminder of Talon’s slowed healing sobers me.

“You’re good for him,” Imogen says, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I turn to her, blinking in confusion.

Did Imogen really just say that? She’s never hidden her disdain for me. Especially when it comes to her cousin.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she says, pushing out of the chair. “If you hurt him, I’m still going to break your face.”

Ah. There she is .

She strolls toward the bathroom, announcing that I’m not allowed in until after her shower. But just before she shuts the door behind her, she pauses. “For real, though. Don’t hurt him.”

No sarcasm, no smirk, just honesty.

The door clicks shut, and the rush of running water fills the space.

I just sit there, staring at the bathroom door, unsure what to make of the last five minutes, or the strange ache settling in my chest. Because even if I don’t mean to, sometimes I hurt the ones I care about.

I never meant to hurt Becks. And look how that turned out.

The last thing I want is to hurt Talon too. But what if I’m powerless to stop it?

“You’re ready for the next phase,” Talon says.

We’ve trained all morning, and boy, has he taken off the kid gloves.

The moment we stepped into the warehouse, he shifted from attentive and supportive to strict and demanding.

Even though it’s exactly what I need—he’s coaxed out three more hidden powers in just two hours—I think I might hate him just a little bit.

Then I remember how irresistibly kissable he looked right after waking up, and the look on his face when he told me I was beautiful this morning, and the negative emotions wither to dust.

“I’m scared to ask. What’s the next phase?”

“There’s still more magic in you we haven’t touched yet,” he says, crossing the space to stand in front of me. “But we’ve pulled out all the ones I think will be useful against Kerrim. Now we have to work on enhancing them.”

I’m relieved we’re done trying to dig for more magic. I didn’t mind learning to manipulate faelight, or wind control, but we’d worked on compulsion, a power I honestly wish I didn’t have. It’s just as creepy and invasive to use on someone as it is to have it used against me.

“Enhancing them?” I ask, and he nods.

“But how?”

He reaches up, and for a second I think he’s going to tuck my hair behind my ear or cradle my face, but his fingers find the curve of my neck. Then he gently lifts the chain of my necklace until the pendant is dangling in the air in front of me.

With everything that’s happened, I’d almost forgotten about the lunacite pendant entirely.

“With this,” he says, nodding toward the stone.

Immediately, I remember how it amplified Titus’ powers back when we were fleeing Grimspire Castle, and a shiver runs down my spine. I’m almost a little scared to use it.

“You already know it’s a power amplifier,” Talon explains. “Since your magic’s coming easier now, if used properly, this will help you channel it more precisely. Stronger. Faster.”

“Or blow something up,” I mutter, trying to keep the unease out of my voice.

His mouth quirks. “We’ll aim for stronger. Not explosive.”

“I’ve been wearing it this whole time. Why hasn’t it kicked in before now?”

“There has to be intention behind it,” he explains. “The gem amplifies what you choose to channel, not just what’s swirling inside you. Until now, you haven’t tried to tap into it directly.”

“So, like, do I have to be holding it? That’s what Titus did.”

Talon shakes his head and lets the pendant fall gently back against my chest.

“No, it’s not about touch, it’s about focus. The amplifier’s already in contact with you. What matters now is intention. You have to reach for it, concentrate on your magic, and consciously draw power through the stone.”

He steps back and moves behind me to give me space. “It’s like opening a door from the inside. The gem won’t do it for you, you have to want it.”

I nod slowly, nerves churning in my stomach. I close my eyes, draw in a steady breath, and reach inward—past the noise, past the pressure—to the well of power I know is there.

I don’t even touch the pendant. I don’t have to. It’s already against my skin, already humming like it’s waiting.

I try to picture the power moving through it, like a lens sharpening a beam of light. Focusing, concentrating.

At first, nothing happens. Then?—

A sharp crack snaps through the air nearby as I feel the shadows at the edge of the room ripple to life, slithering across the floor toward me like they’ve been summoned. My breath catches.

“Locklyn,” Talon warns gently, “try to focus. Don’t fight it, just direct it.”

I try. I really do.

But the power pouring through me is like a firehose with no shutoff valve. The pendant grows warmer against my skin, glowing brighter, until?—

BOOM .

A table ten feet away explodes in a cloud of splinters and dust, knocked clear across the room as a shockwave of faelight bursts out from me. One of the overhead lights sparks and dies.

Talon’s there in an instant, wrapping his arms around me from behind, steadying me. “Hey. Breathe. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

I clutch his forearm, chest heaving.

“That wasn’t me,” I whisper. “It was the pendant.”

He shakes his head. “No. It was you. The pendant just revealed how much magic’s in you now.”

He turns me gently to face him, his expression serious but not afraid. “You have to learn to control it, or it’ll control you. This is why we train.”

After that initial explosion of power, I’m more cautious when drawing from the gem, learning to filter and direct the magic the way Talon explained.

Titus and Imogen show up midday with all the weapons we brought with us through the portal and offer their help as well.

Imogen, surprisingly, is full of useful tips, offering guidance with minimal sarcasm.

At one point, Talon pulls out the wavy-bladed dagger I’d insisted we leave behind, the one that looks like Shadow Striker, and shows me how to disarm someone wielding it. The demonstration is fast and jarring, and I quickly realize how critical that skill will be in the fight ahead.

By late afternoon, I’m finally starting to get the hang of it, or at least I think I am, and Talon calls it quits for the day, not wanting to drain me before tonight.

I know there’s more to learn, more I could master with time. But time is the one thing we’ve never had much of. My meeting with Kerrim is set for just after midnight, after the park closes to the public.