Chapter 20

Twenty

"I hate how weak I am. My lack of magic makes me feel less than everyone else, especially my closest friends. Sometimes I think they're only still around because they pity me. I'm scared I'll never come into my powers, and that I'll never find anyone who will accept me for who I am. And that I'll always be alone." The words rip from my throat, and I have an initial burst of relief when the compulsion releases me that's swallowed by growing horror the next moment.

I traded one confession for another, and although I didn't confess my truth about Becks, I've just given fodder to every student and bully at Nightlark Academy. I'm never going to live that admission down.

What have I done?

I look around, expecting a reaction, but the other competitors are too caught up in their own trials to pay me any mind, but I don't fool myself into believing that admission went unheard. The multiple cameras mounted in the trees ensure that the audience doesn't miss a single moment of the show we're putting on. I won't know the consequences until the trial is over and the dust has settled.

I push to my feet, my limbs shaky from the mental energy I exerted. The piece of my shirt that's wrapped around my palm is soaked through with blood and dripping. I tear off another strip, exposing more of my midriff, and change the wrapping with shaking hands.

I've made it through two of the three tasks, but I have a sinking sensation that this third one is going to be the hardest of all. Tension knots my muscles as I look at the robed figures standing outside the torch circle, waiting to see what I'm going to be compelled to do next. I'm frayed on the inside, picked apart and jumbled and wholly unprepared for another round of compulsion.

Kiss one of the male competitors , the voice whispers in my mind.

A tangled rush of panic and desire floods my body, and I find myself scanning the competitors.

That one , the voice says when my eyes brush over Talon, and I swear I can hear humor in its tone.

No, no, not Talon . I manage to back up a step, but when the voice persists I'm moving forward in a line straight for him.

Talon looks up when I reach him. "Freckles," he says in greeting, but I can hear the strain in his voice and see it on his face. He's going through his own battle right now.

I keep my mouth sealed tightly, not trusting anything that might come out if I try to speak. Talon gazes at me quizzically and then his eyes flare, and I know he's just been given a new command. He stumbles back a step and I almost let out a sigh of relief, but then a wave of compulsion washes over me so strongly my head starts to spin, and I'm swamped with desire like I've never felt before.

I sway toward Talon, swearing I can pick up on his scent from several feet away, and he smells amazing. A spicy woodsy scent that makes me want to bury my face in his neck and inhale. I try to keep my gaze averted, but my eyes roam over him, from his dark head of hair down his muscular torso and legs and back up again, before landing on his mouth.

I lick my bottom lip and my mouth feels overly sensitive. Talon's gaze moves to my mouth as well and a pained look sweeps over his face even as he releases a low moan. "Freckles," he says. His voice has deepened, and it runs over me like silk. "You need to stop looking at me like that."

I want to. Creator knows how badly I want to turn around and walk away right now, but I can't for the life of me make myself do it. The last two rounds of compulsion I wanted to do what I was ordered to, but this time is different. This time I need to. Like I'll die if I don't feel Talon's lips pressed against mine.

The air heats, or maybe it's just me, because I'm pretty sure my blood is boiling. I can't make myself stop as I take measured steps toward him. Talon's chest heaves as he sucks in a breath. He doesn't back away from me like before, but his eyes are wary as they track my movement.

Shouts of anger and pain echo in the space around us as fellow competitors fail to fight off the compulsion to do horrific things to themselves and each other, but it doesn't do anything to break the spell, and with every small step toward Talon I feel myself slip further under the control of the vampire compelling me.

Stopping with only inches separating us, I reach up and place my injured hand on Talon's chest and the other on his bicep. His muscles are rock hard under my hands, and a small tremor works its way through him.

He glances down at the makeshift bandage wrapped around my palm and frowns. My lips pulse with awareness and my breathing shallows. In the back of my mind I vaguely know I should be fighting, but I'm drowning in sensations, wave after wave crashing into me, pulling me under, and I just don't care anymore what I'm supposed to do because I know what I want to do.

"Locklyn," Talon whispers in a pained voice. "Don't." But he doesn't make a single move to stop me. He's as still as a statue.

Anticipation makes my body tighten. I'm so close to what I crave, what I need in that moment, which is to feel the crush of his mouth against mine.

Lifting up on my toes, I bring my face closer to his, but he's so tall that he's still too far away, so I slide my hand up to his shoulder and then trail my fingers over his neck before burying them in his hair at the back of his head. The strands are as soft as I always imagined, and I play with them for a second before tugging him down toward me. His breath tickles my skin, and my eyes grow heavy.

Talon's practically vibrating with restraint as he holds himself back. A soft smile curves my mouth because I'm about to blow that restraint right out of the water.

Talon finally moves. Lifting his arm, he reaches for me with a shaky hand. The tips of his fingers brush up against my cheek. It's barely a caress but I feel it way down into my soul.

I may have never been kissed before, but I know the gist of what to do. With instinct as my guide, I tip my head to the side, lining up our mouths.

My lids slide shut. Our lips can't be more than an inch apart when a bolt of pain hits me, originating from the tips of Talon's fingers and working its way through the rest of me like an electric shock. A shouted " STOP! " rings through my mind and suddenly the compulsion evaporates, disappearing like a puff of smoke.

Gasping, I reel back from Talon, the reality of what I'd almost done—kiss Talon and disqualify myself from Chaos—shaking me to the core.

I stagger back several more steps, my eyes on Talon the whole time as a full-body shudder works its way through him. Clenching his fists, he drops to his knees, a look of agony bleeding into his gaze.

I go to help him, but he throws up an arm.

"Don't come any closer!" he barks, the sharpness of his voice freezing me in place.

The shadowy voice that invaded my mind has fled, but it's clear Talon is still wrestling with his. Beads of sweat break out on Talon's forehead, and his eyes start to shadow over, darkness eating away at his muted blue irises until nothing is left but solid black orbs. I only get a flash of his black eyes before his eyelids slam down over them and he falls fully to the ground, his body twitching.

Watching him fight against the compulsion is brutal; my eyes sting as tears threaten to overflow. I want to go to Talon, to help him, but this isn't a battle I can fight for him, or even with him.

Minutes pass until a final shudder racks Talon's frame and then his muscles unclench. He takes a couple of steadying breaths before pushing to his feet. When he looks at me, his gaze is haunted.

What did they do to you?

A horn sounds, signifying the end of the trial. There's a mix of cheers and crying from the competitors.

I've passed the third trial, but at what cost?