Page 72 of Kingdom of Chaos (Creatures of Chaos #2)

Her hair’s longer than I remember, thick auburn tendrils falling around her shoulders to her lower back, and there’s a stunned, almost disbelieving look in her eyes that makes my chest feel too tight.

I’d almost forgotten the exact color and bow of her lips that always made me want to taste them.

Or the fine arch of her brows, and the faint flush that colors her cheeks when she’s caught off guard.

My memory didn’t do her justice. Nothing ever could.

As I stare at her, her hands fidget, gripping the edges of her jacket one moment, then shoving them in her pockets the next, like she can’t quite figure out where to put the nerves.

“How are you here?” I ask, still frozen by the indecision of whether to sweep her into my arms or demand answers.

She lifts the delicate chain around her neck and holds out the pendant dangling from it. The lunacite, of course. She left with it, so she could have used it to get back. But how is she here without killing me?

“The tether?” I ask, my voice cracking with confusion.

Why am I still talking? Who cares how she’s here or even if being here is killing me?

Seeing her now, I’d trade a lifetime for just a few more minutes with her. I don’t want to waste another second on the hows or whys . I only want to hold her, to savor this impossible moment.

She opens her mouth to answer but I’m already moving, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat. My hands find her hips and I lift her, carrying her around the corner of the restaurant in a blur too fast for human eyes.

I press her gently against the brick wall, my gaze devouring every detail of her face before finally settling on the soft curve of her mouth.

“The tether between us, we figured out?—”

“Later,” I cut in, my voice rough. “That can wait. But this can’t.”

My mouth is on hers, coaxing, claiming, until she melts against me and responds in kind, like no time has passed at all.

Her lips part beneath mine, a soft, shuddering breath catching in her throat as her hands clutch the fabric of my shirt. It’s everything I remember. Everything I’ve missed. Yet it feels new and raw, like a wound just starting to heal.

I pull her closer, clutching her against me as if I can fuse us back together, erase the months we spent apart, and make this moment stretch into forever. My heart pounds so hard it feels like it might break free from my chest, and I swear I can feel her pulse racing to match mine.

For a heartbeat, we’re all tangled breath and lips and the desperate crush of bodies. My hands slide up her sides, rememorizing every curve, every line. She’s warm and real and alive beneath my fingertips and I want this moment to last for eternity.

Then she pulls back, gasping, her eyes shining too brightly, like she’s on the verge of tears.

“Talon,” she whispers, her voice breaking on my name. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever?—”

I shake my head, cupping her face in my hands, brushing my thumbs over her cheeks. “Don’t. Don’t say it. You’re here now.”

For now, that’s enough.

I lower my forehead to hers, our breaths mingling, hearts pounding in the same rhythm. I know there are questions that still need answers, but they don’t matter. Not now, not when she’s in my arms again, where she’s always belonged.

“Freckles,” I murmur, voice barely audible. The word tastes like hope and regret and everything I’ve been starving for.

Her fingers tremble as they brush against my jaw. “I missed you,” she breathes.

I smile faintly, though my chest feels like it’s caving in. “You have no idea.”

And then, because I can’t help myself, I kiss her again. Soft, slow, a promise stitched into every movement. I don’t know how much time we have, but I’ll steal every second I can.

It’s a long while before I’m able to summon the willpower to pull away. As much as it kills me, I step back, forcing a sliver of space between us so I can hear what she has to say.

With her standing there, lips swollen, hair mussed from where I ran my fingers through it . . . I almost cave. Especially as she stares back at me, half stunned, half flustered, looking both adorable and impossibly sexy. A combination on her that I’ve never been able to resist.

Even now, I wonder if I’ll need to close my eyes just to concentrate on what she’s saying.

I can’t stop myself from brushing the hair behind her ear, letting my fingers trace the delicate slope of her lobe.

A shudder runs through her, and I feel it, too, like a current sparking between us.

“How?” is all I can manage, but she knows exactly what I’m asking.

“Imogen,” she answers softly, then takes a shaky breath, like she’s trying—and failing, like I am—to slow her heart rate.

I lift an eyebrow, not having expected that answer.

“Imogen?” I repeat, and she nods.

“She found another way to sever the tether between us. The method took a while to track down, a lot of boring research, and there were some unusual ingredients we had to gather to make it work, but it did. At least I think it did, because I’m here.

” A nervous laugh slips out of her. “And you’re still alive. ”

I huff out a half laugh with her. “I’m very glad about that.”

“Me too,” she says with a smile that dulls a moment later. “You need to know, I couldn’t have done it without your mother’s help,” she adds quietly, her gaze watching me carefully, as if bracing for my reaction.

My mother?

The mention of her sends a sharp pain through my chest. When I fled Grimspire with Locklyn and the others, I knew it would probably be the last time I ever saw my mother. I’d come to terms with that, but hearing her brought up now hits me harder than I expected.

I love my family, but in their eyes—and in mine until Locklyn stormed into my life—the mission of the Society always came first. Before friends. Before family. Before love.

I never would have believed my mother would lift a finger to help Locklyn, an outsider who was never meant to know our secrets. My chest tightens with a quiet kind of gratitude, knowing I was wrong.

“She also granted me permission to go through a gate closer to New York City this time,” Locklyn says softly.

I shake my head, stunned, speechless.

Her expression dims, just a flicker, like there’s something she doesn’t want to tell me. But then I watch her gather the courage, like she always does, and she presses on.

“Even though Shadow Striker is in pieces, it still holds some lingering power. We don’t know if it’s safe for you, or rather, for us, to be in the same world as what’s left of the blade.”

I nod, understanding what she’s not saying outright. That I can never return to the creature world. Not while the remnants of Shadow Striker still exist.

There’s a pinch of sadness at that thought, but not as much as I would have expected. Perhaps the human world has grown on me over these past few months?

Maybe, but I suspect the real reason is that it’s not really the creature world I’ve been longing for.

It’s her.

And now that she’s here, standing in front of me, real and solid, I don’t seem to care as much about the world and the life I left behind.

Her tongue slides over her bottom lip, wetting it, probably without even realizing it.

That small, familiar gesture nearly snaps my control.

I miraculously manage to hold on, because I have to know.

How long do I get? How many minutes, hours, days do I have to squeeze in a lifetime’s worth of moments before we’re parted again?

“When do you go back?” I ask, the words rough, bracing myself for the answer I don’t want to hear.

Her head tilts slightly, confusion crossing her face.

“To the creature world,” I clarify. And because I can’t stand not touching her, I cradle her face in my hands. “How long do I have with you?”

Understanding lights in her eyes, and she places her hand over mine, her touch grounding me, assuring me she’s really there and not some figment of my imagination that’s going to disappear when I blink.

“I’m not going back,” she says quietly, her gaze moving between my eyes.

The words hit me like a shockwave, and I reel back, stunned.

“But your parents. Your friends. Becks. They’re all back in the creature world.”

“They are. And I love my parents and my friends. But they understand my decision. They support me.” She draws a breath, her eyes steady, her voice stronger. “I never really belonged in the creature world to begin with. I belong here. With you.”

Her words hit me and sink deep into my soul, warming those icy places that froze over the moment she disappeared through that portal.

“So, you’re staying . . . for good?” I ask, almost tentatively. I need to hear it again to believe it.

A wide, radiant smile spreads across her face, her eyes lighting up, color blooming in her cheeks, turning her from achingly beautiful to breathtakingly stunning.

She nods. “I love you. And I’m here for good.”

I lean down and press my forehead against hers, overwhelmed.

“I love you too, Freckles.”

The words are rough and raw in my throat, and almost lost before she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me in for another kiss.

This one isn’t born of desperation or fear that it might be our last. It’s born of joy and hope for the future. The future we’ll finally get to have together. And the passion we’ll have a lifetime to explore.