Chapter 21

Twenty-One

The moment I reach the amphitheater, I look for Becks, anxiousness roiling in my gut, but I can't find him anywhere in the sea of faces. As the crowd starts to clear, Ensley's somber face comes into view, and I head straight for her.

"Where's Becks?" I ask before she has a chance to say anything.

Ensley chews on her lip, looking unsure. "He took off right after the trial ended."

"Left?" I ask, having a hard time processing that. "But he drove us here."

She holds up a set of keys. "He left me these. He caught a ride back with another dragon shifter. He was a little . . . upset."

Frustration swallows me, and I suddenly have the urge to whale on a bag. "It was nothing," I say, sounding like I'm trying to convince myself as much as her.

Ensley nods. "Of course, I know that. And so does Becks. It was just . . ." Ensley clears her throat. "What we saw looked kinda intense. I know it was the compulsion, but it really seemed like you and Talon were into each other. And for a minute there . . ." Her voice trails off.

I don't need to press her because I already know what she's going to say, and I get it. The truth is I almost gave in to the compulsion. Even though the desire was forced upon me, at the time there was nothing I've ever wanted more than to feel Talon's lips against mine, to taste him on my tongue. Even thinking about it now brings a wave of heat to my cheeks, but the important thing is that I fought the compulsion and didn't kiss Talon.

Nothing real happened.

But was it all compulsion? my traitorous mind asks, and I tell it to shut up. But a small part wonders. I didn't fight the compulsion to kiss Talon as hard as I had the other two. For the first two rounds of compulsion I'd retained at least a sliver of myself, but when I was compelled to kiss Talon my mind was completely and utterly taken over by the vampire. If it wasn't for the spark of pain that snapped me out of it, I probably would have done it.

But that doesn't mean anything, right? It just means that I fought harder against the first two compulsions because of self-preservation. If given the choice between stabbing yourself or kissing an attractive creature, I know which option everyone would choose. Surely that doesn't mean that some part of me truly wanted to kiss Talon, but what if that's exactly what Becks thinks?

"I know you two have stuff to figure out and work through, and that's not something you want to do until Becks is free of the arranged life-mating, but maybe just give him a little time to cool off this time."

Something inside tells me that it's not a good idea to leave Becks to his own devices right now, but I nod anyway.

Ensley's gaze fills with sadness and perhaps a touch of guilt, but I don't know why until she says, "Locklyn, about what you said back there, during the trial . . ."

My stomach drops. I completely forgot about my confession, but the dread of that admission hits me again full force. "Ensley, that wasn't—" I cut myself off. I can't lie to her now and say it wasn't true because it is. It's part of my truth that I've buried for years. A deep insecurity that I never, ever, gave voice to, but now it's out in the open.

Ensley takes my uninjured hand between both of hers and squeezes. She shakes her head. "It's not true. Becks and I don't care how much power you have. We're not your friends because we feel bad for you. We're your friends because we care about you and love you. You're family, and always will be no matter what. And you'll never be alone because you'll always have us."

I've kept myself protected for so long that I've hardened, but Ensley's words crack my shell, revealing a fleshy part of my heart that I hardly knew existed anymore. But now that it's exposed I feel raw and vulnerable, but also filled with love.

Her face in front of me becomes a little blurry as my eyes fill with tears.

"Ride or die, for life," Ensley says, tears glistening in her own eyes.

"For life," I repeat with a nod and a wobbly smile.

She takes a deep breath to steady herself and then looks down at the blooded piece of fabric wrapped around my injury. "How's your hand?"

I shrug. "It's been better," I say, playing it off, but the truth is that it throbs and is leaking blood again.

"Come on, let's get it looked at before we go." She leads me over to one of the spectators, an otter shifter who's a part-time medic and has a first aid kit in his car.

Using skin-glue he gets the cut on my palm closed and then re-wraps it with clean bandages before moving on to someone else. I'm not the only one who did harm to themselves under compulsion and he's doing his best to triage the injured competitors. A couple of the competitors are in pretty bad shape, including the black-haired girl who was burned. She was compelled to climb one of the aspen trees and jump from a limb, which she did, resulting in what looked like multiple broken bones. She was injured badly enough that her natural healing process seems to have slowed. Some of the other competitors helped carry her back to the amphitheater, where her friends took over and whisked her away. Hopefully to a hospital.

Jules also wasn't in the best shape that last time I saw her. She was compelled to thrust a nail into her eye and is among the group of competitors who failed the trial, confirming what I always thought to be true. She is a weak-minded creature who uses her magic as a crutch. Shifters are some of the fastest healers, but she's going to be lucky if she keeps that eye. I can't find it in my heart to be sad for her though. I don't believe in karma, but I do believe in justice, and it seems to have been served tonight.

In all, another twenty-four competitors were eliminated tonight, leaving only sixteen of us to battle it out.

After getting my hand looked at, Ensley brings me home, offering to take me to a clinic to get my hand stitched properly, but I play it off as not as bad and convince her to bring me straight home instead. She drops me off on the corner, but rather than sneaking back inside to get a few hours of sleep before school in the morning, I stand where I am and watch the taillights of her car until they disappear from view.

Maybe Ensley is right, and I should give Becks some space, but instinct screams at me to do the opposite. Becks might already be home in bed, but if he's not, I think I may know where he is instead.

Quietly grabbing my bike that's chained in the alley next to our shop, I jump on it and ride through town, pulling off the street to catch a trail through the woods right after the last building. My hand throbs as my bike treks over the bumpy wooded path. It would hurt less to jump off the bike and walk it instead, but that would take too long. I'm too anxious to see if Becks is there or not.

The ride through the forest trail only takes a few minutes, but it feels like forever before the trees thin and finally open to the rock landing that Becks and I have been to so many times before.

My heart stutters when I see Becks' broad back as he sits atop the highest rock looking out over the valley. When I get up there I won't be able to see anything but darkness, but as a dragon shifter Becks' eyesight—although not as good as cat or owl shifters'—is better than mine in the low light, so he can make out some of the terrain below.

I'm sure he hears me as I park my bike and then scale the rock. His hearing is excellent and I'm not trying to sneak up on him. But other than a slight tensing of his shoulders, he doesn't react until I'm seated right next to him.

"How's your hand?" he asks without looking over.

I stare at the white wrapping, my thoughts on the shifter next to me rather than my injury.

"I hardly even feel it," I lie, and Becks finally glances at my face, giving me a look that says he knows I'm full of it.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, and it's not uncomfortable. Becks and I know each other too well to let awkwardness creep in during the quiet.

"You didn't stay after the trial," I say.

It's not a question. We both know he bolted before I made it back to the amphitheater, but Becks still shakes his head. "Yeah. Sorry about that. It was just . . ." His voice trails off, and as I study his profile I catch a muscle jump in his jaw.

"Listen, Becks, about what you saw?—"

"I hate this," he says, cutting me off.

That's a broad statement. There are a million things he could hate right now. His impending betrothal, that he's the dragon heir, that I'm a Chaos competitor, that I almost gave my first kiss to Talon in front of him.

"I should be in Chaos with you, helping you, protecting you, but I'm not."

Oh, that.

He picks up a loose rock and chucks it. I lose sight of it almost the moment it leaves his hand.

"I've been holding my own. I don't need protection."

He glances at the bandaged hand resting in my lap, and I cover it with my uninjured one.

"It'll heal," is all I say, and the muscle in his jawline jumps again. I take a deep breath. "I get you don't like seeing me hurt, but?—"

He turns toward me, crowding me, and the suddenness of the movement combined with his nearness steals my words.

There's a wild look in Becks' eyes I haven't seen before. "Don't like? Haven't you figured it out by now?" He runs a hand through his hair, sending strands every which way, which only adds to the out-of-control vibe he's throwing off right now. He grabs my hand, the uninjured one, his gaze beseeching, begging me to understand. "Locklyn, it's not that I just don't like seeing you hurt, it's that it guts me to see you hurt. It's not that I just don't like watching you struggle your way through these trials, it's that a ball of agony and dread formed and lodged in my gut the moment you crossed that line and became a competitor, and I couldn't follow you. And tonight, to hear you say you're not sure I genuinely care about you, that you feel less-than around me and that you think I pity you . . . that broke me. Broke . Me. And then on top of all that I had to stand there and watch you walk into another guy's arms."

He squeezes his eyes shut and a shudder runs through him, but then his lids snap back open, his green eyes brighter than they've ever been before. "It's not that I just don't like seeing you in someone else's arms, it's that it's agony for me to see you there when I know there's no one else's arms you should be in but mine."

The world freezes for two prolonged heartbeats before speeding up again.

What's happening right now? And am I ready for it?

Becks just stares at me, waiting for my reaction, but I'm overwhelmed and too stunned to say anything. He said our almost kiss had been a mistake and wouldn't happen again. Just the memory of that moment still stings like a slap in the face. The arranged life-mating is still hanging over his head, and without Shadow Striker I'm still powerless, still not good enough for him.

"What are you saying?" I finally ask, my voice small and breathless.

"I'm saying—" Irritation flashes across Becks' face, and then rather than use his words to explain he's reaching for me, dragging me toward him with one arm wrapped around my waist.

I'm practically on his lap as he palms the back of my head, tilting my face up as he slants his down and then his mouth crashes into mine.

I gasp, and Becks swallows the sound, moving his lips over mine in an unfamiliar dance that I'm quickly swept up in.

Closing my eyes, I fall into sensation, grasping Becks' biceps to keep me grounded.

Becks' kisses are passionate but not demanding, and it gives me the courage to explore, brushing my lips over his with varying degrees of pressure, from feather-like touches to soul searing connections. His hand trails from the back of my head down my neck, making me shiver. He brushes his thumb against the underside of my jaw and a low moan rumbles deep in my chest. I never knew how sensitive the skin there could be until that moment.

There's a slight tremor in his hand that intensifies when I take the kiss deeper. He starts to pull me closer, before he stops. I realize he's trying to hold back, but I can't imagine anything feeling as good as what he's doing to me right now, so I don't want him to hold back. I want him unfiltered and unfettered from duty and responsibility. I want him to give me everything he's feeling so I know his desire for me matches my own for him.

Without thinking, I nip at Becks' lower lip and the tenuous hold he has on himself snaps. With a growl, he pulls me even closer, eliminating any space between us.

He kisses me with a possessiveness I wasn't prepared for. Every glide of his mouth sends a shockwave through me, and it isn't long before I'm gasping for air, overwhelmed by a cacophony of emotions and sensations.

And just when it seems like we're at the precipice of something unknown, we break apart, both of us panting for air.

I blink as I raise my hand and press my fingers to my swollen lips. Becks' mouth looks as swollen as mine feels, and there's color dusting his cheekbones that I can make out in the moonlight.

"I'm sorry," he starts, his hold on me loosening. "I forgot myself. I shouldn't have?—"

I press two fingers to his mouth, stopping his words. That was the single best moment of my life, and if he tries to take it back I may not survive.

"It was perfect," I say, and Becks releases a breath, his tense muscles relaxing.

A lazy smile grows on his face, and that combined with his disheveled hair makes him look roguish in the best possible way.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he says, looking back down at my mouth, and my heart rate spikes.

"How long?" I ask, my gaze dropping to his plumped lips.

"Longer than I'm willing to admit," he says with a self-deprecating laugh, and then slides me off his lap.

I'm instantly disappointed with the distance. I quite liked cuddling on his lap, but I'm not bold enough to voice my preference.

"Where do we go from here?" I ask, looking at my hands. Sadness starts to darken the edges of the bliss I felt moments before. Nothing about our situation has changed in the last ten minutes, but at the same time . . . everything has.

Becks reaches across and gently takes my bandaged hand, inspecting the wrappings. A little blood has leaked through. The glue must have split while we were kissing. I should probably get it stitched.

"I don't know," he answers honestly, and my heart sinks a bit lower.

It's the truth. Unless we dig up some dirt on one of the council members soon, Becks will still be getting betrothed and then forced to life-mate with the female chosen for him. I've survived Chaos so far, making it further than anyone—even myself—expected, but it's still a longshot that I'll come out victoriously.

Becks is still the dragon heir.

I'm still as magicless as ever.

He throws his arm around me, tucking me into his side, and I go willingly, relishing his warmth in the chilly night and the butterflies that flutter in my stomach.

"About earlier tonight," Becks starts, and I tense. I'd forgotten the events that served as a catalyst for Becks' confession. "These trials are dangerous. Cage fights, compulsion . . . there is real potential for serious injury, not to mention the legality of it. I'm really worried about you." He rushes to add, "And that's not because I think of you as weak or less-than—a lot of magically powerful creatures were injured tonight. These trials are no joke."

I start to relax. This is the same argument we've had for weeks, and although I'm fatigued from going around in circles, I'm just glad he didn't bring up Talon.

"And the thing with Talon," he says, and I tense back up. "That was?—"

"It was the compulsion," I spit out, feeling the need to explain myself even though I know I shouldn't have to. I didn't owe Becks an explanation before we kissed, and I don't owe him one now either.

He nods. "Yeah, I know. It's just . . ." His arm around me tightens. "I just don't get a good vibe from that guy. He's hiding something. And the way he looks at you makes me want to tear his face off."

I smile in the darkness. Talon's done nothing to deserve Becks' ire, but now that I know for certain he's into me like I'm into him, I don't mind the show of jealousy so much.

"There's nothing going on between us," I say honestly. He can't possibly think I'm harboring feelings for another guy when I just kissed him like that. "And if it makes you feel any better, it's not like I ever plan to search him out. I'd rather keep my distance anyway."

He's silent for long enough that I turn to look at him. A muscle jumps in the side of his jaw, making me think he's stopping himself from saying something. Finally, he says, "Yeah, okay. I'll drop it. It's not like I have any hold on you right now. Not when I'm in the position I'm in myself." He starts to let go of me and I know he's not just physically retreating, he's emotionally pulling back as well, but I'm not going to let him.

Reaching up, I place a hand on his cheek, gently turning his face so that he can't help but look at me.

"I've said it before, but I'll say it again. We're going to figure it out. You're crazy if you think I'm going to stand back and watch you be mated to another female. Especially now."

Something sparks in his eyes, and I know I've drawn him back to the here and now. "You don't want to watch me with another female?"

I purse my lips. "I thought I just made that pretty clear."

Becks rubs the back of his neck, a wicked gleam in his eye that makes heat bloom in my gut. "I don't know. Maybe there's a way for you to make it clearer," he says, as he holds back a grin.

"And how do you suppose I do that?" I ask, full well knowing what he's alluding to, but enjoying his sudden teasing manner. Flirting is a whole new side of Becks I'm not used to seeing, let alone being on the receiving end of. I like it a lot.

"Hmm." The sound he makes in the back of his throat is super sexy and makes my heartbeat pick back up again.

Twisting, he grabs me around the waist, and as if I weigh nothing he settles me so I'm resting with a knee on either side of his hips. As I look down on him, he swipes his tongue over his lower lip. When his gaze fastens on my mouth, I have to swallow the sound that threatens to bubble up my throat. It's suddenly incomprehensible how I kept myself under control for so long. Now that I know what he tastes like, there's no going back for me.

Rather than waiting for Becks to make a move, this time I do the taking. Dipping my head, I press my mouth against his, and just like before, coming together in this way is nothing short of bliss.

I follow Becks' lead as he moves his mouth over mine, and when his tongue slides against the seams of my lips I open wider, letting him in. I can't stop myself from running my hands over him. I caress his biceps and dive my fingers through the soft hair at the back of his head. He trails his fingers back and forth over the exposed skin at my sides and cups a hand around the back of my neck.

This kiss is so much more than just the result of pent-up physical attraction. This kiss is everything. It's slow and decadent and makes my toes curl. It's an expression of the depths of our emotions. The depths of our desires. It's everything I never knew I needed, and I'll remember this moment for the rest of my life.

I don't know how long we stay like that, leisurely exploring each other, but when Becks pulls back and rests his forehead against mine, my lips are swollen and my eyes heavily lidded.

Rubbing a hand up and down my back soothingly, he sighs and it's part-resigned, part-contented. "Come on. Let's get you to an all-night clinic. That hand needs to be stitched. We can brainstorm what you're going to tell your parents when we get there."

My parents. I'd completely forgotten about them. Nothing like bringing up the parents to throw cold water on a romantic moment.

Dropping my head back, I sever the connection between us and groan. A few bruises were easy to explain away, especially since they looked like sparring injuries, but a knife wound in the middle of my palm is an entirely different matter.

Becks laughs at my reaction and sets me aside. Standing, he pulls me up after him. "We'll figure something out."

When we climb down from the rock to the ground, he does something he's never done before. He takes my hand. When he squeezes it, I feel a jolt all the way down to my toes. And when he looks over his shoulder at me with a carefree and contented smile, I think my heart might explode.

I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but for one night everything is perfect.