Page 64 of Kingdom of Chaos (Creatures of Chaos #2)

Forty-One

Sweat slicks my hair to my face, running in rivulets down my back as I block another of Kerrim’s relentless attacks. My arms tremble, nearly too weak to lift, let alone fend him off for much longer. Every muscle burns, screaming at me to stop, but I can’t stop. I won’t.

I’m losing. I’m going to lose.

And there’s nothing I can do about it, because with every strike Kerrim seems to grow stronger, his magic crackling and pulsing brighter, while mine flickers like a dying flame, slipping through my grasp no matter how tightly I try to hold on to it or how much I pull on the power from the pendant stone.

Digging as deep as I can, I summon a shadow whip and crack it at him with the last of my strength. It snaps through the air, but the blow is so weak it barely grazes his side. He doesn’t even flinch. Instead, Kerrim smiles a sharp, unhinged grin that twists my insides into knots.

He’s not just doing this because he has to. He’s going to enjoy burying Shadow Striker in my gut. Going to savor twisting the blade and watching the light drain from my eyes as he finally takes everything for himself.

Kerrim thrusts his hands forward, a blast of wind slamming into me with bone-shattering force. My feet leave the ground as I’m flung backward, flailing through the air before I slam into the earth like a ragdoll, the impact knocking the air from my lungs.

A groan slips from me as I roll over, my side screaming in protest. Sharp, stabbing pain radiates through my ribs, stealing my breath, leaving me gasping, dizzy.

I try to rise. I have to rise. But my body refuses, my limbs dead weight. My magic lies dormant, hollow and unreachable, like it’s slipped beyond my grasp.

I stare up at the sky, the moon haloed by the faint shimmer of the Order’s containment dome, tears filling my eyes.

This is it . I’m going to die .

Both worlds—human and creature—are going to pay the price because I wasn’t good enough. Wasn’t strong enough.

A shiver racks through me, sharp and cold, as if the very thought is siphoning the last of my strength. My heart squeezes painfully, a hollow ache where hope should be.

I hope Becks, Ensley, and the others make it back without me. That they get home and stay safe, for as long as possible. And this mess I’ve dragged them into doesn’t swallow them whole.

And Talon . . .

A single tear spills down the side of my face, cutting a hot path across my chilled skin.

I’ll never get the chance to say what I should have said before I walked into this fight.

That I love him.

I catch a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye, Kerrim, I think, coming to finish me off.

My breath stutters. I squeeze my eyes shut, not ready to see the end coming, when a roar splits the night. Deep, guttural, ancient. The beastly cry rattles my bones, shaking loose every thought except one: danger.

A pulse of magic surges in the air, sharp and biting, like winter itself has descended on the park, and my eyes snap back open. The temperature plummets so fast my breath fogs in front of me, frost crackling in the grass as the air crystallizes.

A massive form bursts from the tree line in a blur of silver and white, a streak of frost spiraling in its wake.

Wings unfurl—wide, powerful, and shimmering like fractured ice in the moonlight.

Its scales are a swirling blend of silver, blue, and white that gleams like a storm trapped in crystal.

A blast of freezing air explodes from its terrifying jaws, a shockwave of cold so intense the moisture in the air crackles into snowflakes.

Kerrim, caught in the blast, is hurled across the clearing, spinning wildly out of control over the frost-slick grass before slamming into a tree with a sickening thud.

The creature turns, chest heaving, breath curling out in shimmering plumes. He’s huge , easily twice the size of any dragon I’ve ever heard of, let alone seen.

My heart stutters, frozen by fear and something else: recognition.

Then I see them.

Those eyes.

Blue-gray, sharp as shattered glass, familiar, and locked on me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.

Impossible .

“Talon?” I breathe, my voice barely a whisper as I somehow manage to struggle to a sitting position.

The dragon—Talon—locks eyes with me, a promise burning in that feral gaze.

He’s an ice dragon , the rarest of all shifters, a myth in the creature world, the last of which was said to have been hunted out of existence hundreds of years ago by the fire-breathing dragons because their power was so great they were seen as a threat to the rest of the clans.

But clearly he’s no myth.

And he’s here for me.

Frost blooms across the ground with every step he takes toward me, the earth cracking beneath the weight of his claws. Every breath he takes exhales a ghostly mist, curling around him like a living thing.

A shudder runs through me, sharp and disorienting, as I stare up at him, at the impossible creature he’s become. My pulse pounds in my ears, and for a moment the weight of what I’m seeing crushes everything else. My mind can’t quite keep up. It’s too much. Too impossible. Too . . . Talon.

The truth clicks into place, sharp and searing, leaving me breathless.

A hundred questions claw at the edges of my mind, but as I stare up at the impossible creature before me, his scales catching the moonlight like shards of glass and his breath curling in the air like a storm contained, it all makes sense.

The careful control. The restraint. The secrets and misdirection.

He’s been hiding this his whole life. Not just from me, but from everyone.

Because being an ice dragon, a creature of legend, of power so rare it was hunted to extinction, means he’s always been a target. A threat.

A secret that could cost him everything.

And now he’s here. Not running from it, but becoming it.

For me .

I should be doing . . . something, I know I should, but all I can do is breathe, tremble, and stare as he lowers his massive head, those familiar blue-gray eyes locked on mine with a silent promise.

A slow, strangled sound escapes me, a half-sob, half-laugh, as my fingers twitch against the frost-dusted grass.

It’s really Talon, and he just saved my life.

I struggle to my feet shakily, but still able to stand. Before I can say anything, movement explodes from the tree line.

Becks, bloodied and out of breath, bursts into the clearing, his voice hoarse and raw with desperation. “We found her! They have Ensley. We need help. Now!”

He catches sight of Talon, and for a second he falters. Even from a distance I see his breath hitch; a wild, stunned look flashes across his face as he stares up at the enormous dragon towering over me.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he mutters under his breath when he reaches us, disbelief warring with awe, but it’s gone as quickly as it came, swallowed by urgency.

“No time. They demolished the Order forces in minutes. Titus is holding them off, but he won’t last much longer!

” He wipes at blood streaking down his temple.

I hear more shouts and we snap our heads to the side to catch Imogen, Kade, Ares, and the others running at us from the direction Talon burst into the clearing, weapons drawn, their faces a mix of determination and awe.

Kerrim, I realize, is gone, having vanished into the trees to regroup. But there’s no time to dwell on that now.

Before the others reach us, Talon’s massive form stiffens, and with a low, guttural rumble that rattles the air, frost explodes outward in a shimmering burst, and in the blink of an eye he’s standing in front of me, back in his usual form, chest heaving, dark hair tousled and damp with sweat.

His eyes glint with residual power. Steam curls off his skin where the frost lingers.

It’s as impressive as it is intimidating, but I’ve run out of time awing over Talon’s creature magic.

Talon’s gaze sweeps over me with a sharpness that steals my breath, checking for wounds and mentally cataloging each one he finds. He reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly over my shoulder, like he’s assuring himself that I’m still standing.

“You okay?” he murmurs, voice low and rough, and it’s not a question so much as a desperate need for confirmation.

A faint shimmer of cold trails wherever his hand touches me, but his touch is careful, like he’s afraid of breaking me.

I nod, chest tight. “Yeah. I’m okay.” But we both know there’s no time to worry about me. Not when I’m still standing and Ensley’s life, and so much more, is hanging in the balance.

“Where is she?” I ask Becks just as the others rush up behind him.

Kade glances between Talon and the frost-slicked ground, his expression sharpening with cold calculation. “Would have been nice to know about this before the attack.”

“You’re telling me,” Imogen says, staring at her cousin like she’s never seen him before.

“Doesn’t matter right now,” Becks snaps, voice tight with urgency. “We have to get to Ensley.”

In short, clipped bursts, Becks relays what he knows.

Titus is holding the line, fighting to keep Kerrim’s forces at bay while they hold Ensley hostage.

There are too many of them. Powerful creatures who strike down anyone who gets too close.

And the Order? They’re barely holding on.

All over the park, our forces are being overwhelmed.

Kade doesn’t waste a second. He turns, voice sharp and commanding as he barks orders, sending Ares and the bulk of the Order to reinforce their outmatched fighters. Then, without hesitation, he faces us, his expression grim. “I’m coming with you. Let’s move.”

With a grateful nod, Becks starts back toward where he entered the clearing. When I go to follow, Talon grabs my hand, stopping me.

His gaze cuts to mine, sharp and urgent. “Do you have enough left to do this?” he asks, knowing that I’m waning but letting me make the decision.

I nod once, breath catching, my body aching but my resolve steel-strong.

For Ensley, I do.

“Okay, then. Let’s go get her back,” he says, his voice low and steady, and together we run.