Chapter 7

Seven

Talon's deep voice sinks past skin and bones, embedding itself in my core. When an involuntary shiver passes through me I tell myself I'm just chilled from the damp cavern air.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, and he quirks his mouth into a lopsided smile.

What a stupid question. In the short time he's been at Nightlark, Talon's already one of the most popular guys at school, so of course if there's a big party he's going to be there.

"I suppose the same as you. Attending the party of the century," he says, but his tone is mocking as his gaze travels past me and slides over the mass of partygoers holed up in the cavern. "Dancing. Drinking. Debauchery. The trifecta of teenage rebellion." He sighs, looking suddenly weary, like this whole thing is tedious and he'd rather be anywhere but here tonight.

"Right. The trifecta. I guess I'd have to experience it at least once before graduation."

Talon's brows wing and he tilts his head. "Don't tell me this is your first party?"

"First and last, if I can help it."

"Ah, well, don't let my jaded soul taint the experience for you."

I shake my head. "It won't. This just isn't my scene. My idea of a fun time is a night in bingeing my favorite show with a pint of cookie dough ice cream."

As soon as the words are out of my mouth I want to face-palm myself. Why did I say that? Could I have made myself sound any more pathetic?

The corners of Talon's mouth curve up. He's probably trying not to laugh at me. So of course I continue to word vomit and make it worse.

"I mean, that's not all I like to do. Hanging out with friends is cool too. But I don't really get invited to parties, so it's not like my thing or whatever.

Stop talking, Locklyn. Please stop talking . But I can't seem to keep my mouth closed. The words keep spewing, each sentence worse than the last.

"It's just that you get judged for everything at Nightlark. What you say, what you do, what you wear, even what friends you hang out with. We all sort each other into different categories just to try to figure out where we belong. It's exhausting, and I don't see the point to subjecting myself to all that after hours as well."

Groan . Would the ground please open up and swallow me whole . . .

I glance around, wondering why he's even lurking in the shadows with me right now. Surely there's someone else he'd rather be talking to. Probably someone leggier and a lot less awkward.

"I get that," Talon says, and I make myself look back at him. "No one likes feeling judged. But it will get better. High school isn't forever, and it's rough for a lot of us."

"You seem to be sailing through pretty easily." I'm not trying to be a jerk, it's just true. He's only been at Nightlark Academy a couple of weeks, but he's certainly not hurting for friends.

"You'd be surprised."

I take a moment to study Talon as his gaze moves past me to scan the crowd. He looks off tonight. Not aesthetically speaking. His ripped jeans and black t-shirt are simple enough, but the darkness of his clothes combined with his black hair makes his muted blue eyes pop. There's something different about his demeanor tonight. He might be dressed the part, but he doesn't seem like a high schooler out for a good time. There's an unusual edginess in the way he's holding himself; his muscles are tense and rigid, and his hands are curled into fists. It feels like he's here for a purpose that has nothing to do with teenage rebellion or chasing a high. The intense look in his eyes makes me think he's searching for someone, or something.

"Looking for someone in particular?" I ask, and he jerks his attention back to me, his gaze dark.

He shoves his hands in his pockets as he shakes his head. "No. Just staying alert."

I shoot him a look. Staying alert . That's a weird thing to say. I'm about to comment on it when Talon changes the subject.

"You look amazing," he says, his shoulders relaxing and an easy smile melting on his face, but I can't help but feel like he just slipped on a costume to hide some of his truth from me.

He looks me over from head to toe and back up again, a spark of appreciation in his eyes. I fidget, uncomfortable with his regard.

"Don't you agree?" Talon asks, his gaze still locked with mine, so I think he's talking to me until I sense a presence at my back.

When I glance over my shoulder, Becks is standing there, fists clenched and muscles bunched as he glares daggers at Talon.

"What are you doing here?" Becks asks the same question I'd presented to Talon, but Becks doesn't mean here at Deepseat Caverns like I did, he means here as in talking to me. On a different day I might be pleased by the note of possessiveness, but instead the darkness in Becks' voice turns my stomach sour.

I step to the side so I can keep an eye on both Becks and Talon. There's something going on between them that feels a little dangerous, but I can't for the life of me fathom why. They hardly know each other, and as far as I can tell I've had more interaction with Talon than Becks has, so it doesn't make sense that Becks looks like he's one wrong comment away from throwing down.

"I'm just enjoying the festivities and keeping Freckles company," Talon says, his smile growing when Becks' eyes narrow. "I saw you talking to Vesper when I first came in. She certainly is . . ." Talon pauses, looking like he's mulling over how to describe Vesper, finally landing on " . . . persistent."

At the mention of Vesper and Becks, any lingering hint of excitement I had for this evening disappears. Becks opens his mouth to respond when the music is cut and the crowd roars in displeasure.

"That's weird," I start, but then the lights disappear as well, plunging the cave into total and utter darkness.

There's a beat of silence and then pandemonium erupts. Some creatures, like certain shifters and vampires, have varying degrees of night vision, but the rest of us are blinded. Screams echo off the cavern walls and feet pound against the stone ground as partygoers start racing toward the exit. Someone slams into me, and I get the wind knocked out of me when I hit the ground. A booted foot stomps on my leg before I can regain my footing, and a sharp burst of pain explodes on my thigh.

"Locklyn!" Becks shouts.

"Over here," I croak as I scooch toward the perimeter of the cavern, searching for the wall so I don't get trampled.

"Keep your head down," Becks calls out, and then a plume of fire shoots from his hands into the air, hovering in the space above my head long enough for him to spot me from half a dozen feet away.

It goes dark again, but before I know it, arms wrap around me, and I'm hauled to my feet. Becks walks me backward until my back bumps up against the cavern wall. The coolness of the stone behind me seeps through my clothes, giving me chills.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice rising above the din of panic.

He has me boxed in between two immovable forces: his body in front and the stone behind. I only realize my hands are on his chest when I register the furious cadence of his heartbeat. No doubt it matches my own. Under normal circumstances I'd be self-conscious about our closeness, but in the darkness his presence makes me feel safe, protected.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, breathless. I'm probably going to have a boot-shaped bruise on my thigh tomorrow, but I don't think anything is broken.

"You sure you're not hurt?" It's too dark for me to see his face clearly, but the touch of panic in his voice rings loud and clear.

Without waiting for my response, his hands start to roam from my shoulders down my arms and the sides of my body as he checks for . . . what? Maybe broken bones? I know his touch is innocent, but the caress of his hands over my body feels criminally good, and my words stick in my throat. Despite the madness around us, my limbs go languid as I sway toward Becks.

Becks' hands suddenly stop on my hips and tighten. "Locklyn?" he asks, his voice filled with uncertainty. His face is so close his breath feathers across my forehead and a thrill runs through me when I think of how near his mouth is to my own.

I have to swallow to wet my suddenly dry throat before answering, and even then my voice is no louder than a whisper. "I'm not hurt."

In the distance, someone yells that the exit is blocked and then pinpricks of faelight start to illuminate the space behind Becks. His face is still shrouded in shadows, but between the low light and his night vision, I have no doubt he can see me clearly now.

"Locklyn," he whispers again, and skims a hand up my rib cage and over my shoulder to land on my neck, his fingers gentle as he brushes them back and forth over the sensitive skin. My lids get heavy, and I have to battle to keep my eyes open.

Becks has never held me like this. He's never touched me the way he is now, and the assault on my senses causes the flimsy shield around my emotions to shatter. My feelings for him that I usually stuff way down deep balloon in my chest. I know they're probably broadcasting across my face, but the moment is too raw for me to hide them.

Part of me realizes this is a completely inappropriate time for us to be having a moment. The bedlam in the cavern hasn't subdued. Party goers shriek and race back and forth looking for a way out, but I'm so focused on Becks that the craziness surrounding us might as well be a million miles away. A bomb could fall on us in this instant and I'd hardly notice.

I inch the hand that I have pressed up against his chest higher and he stops breathing, his muscles tensing impossibly tighter.

What's gotten into me? I've never been this bold with Becks before, but deep inside I'm both out of control and completely calm. Like this is where we've been heading all along, but we just needed a little push to get here.

Becks may never be my future, but in this moment it feels like he's mine and I'm not letting it pass without claiming him.

The faelight shining behind Becks is just bright enough to make out the curve of his jaw, the arch of his cheekbone, and a flash of his green eyes. He's drifted toward me and now his lips are only inches from my own. I tip my head back, sliding my hand even higher so that I'm cupping his jaw, his scruff deliciously rough under my fingertips.

Becks' breathing is as ragged as mine. His hand clutching my hip curves to my lower spine and he draws me closer, while his other hand slides from my neck to the back of my head. The gentle tugs on the strands as he buries his fingers in my hair send bolts of electricity through me.

As more fae use their magic to light the cavern, the crowd finally starts to calm. The murmurs behind Becks seem more confused than panicked now—but who cares? Becks and I are in our own glass bubble, separate from the rest of the world. This couldn't feel more right, and it's a toss-up about whether I want this moment to last forever, or rush toward the precipice we're about to fall over.

Becks' mouth is now so close I can almost feel the warmth of his lips, almost taste their sweetness. I have to bite back the whimper that's lodged in my throat. I've never wanted anything more than to feel their softness against mine and experience my first kiss. To know that the two of us fit together like puzzle pieces, despite what the dragon council, the students at Nightlark Academy, or anyone else may think.

I start to go up on my toes, too impatient to wait for him to come to me, when a loud boom rocks the cavern, eliciting another round of screams.

A bright light flashes behind Becks and he twists to see what's going on. He shoves me behind him as he pulls away. Everything in me protests and I want to weep over the moment that was just stolen from us.

The cavern has gone eerily quiet. I peek around Becks' giant body to see what's going on. The rock formation in the middle of the cavern is lit with a column of silvery light, as if it has a spotlight directed at it. Standing atop the stone is a figure robed in red. Parts of my brain are still a little muddled, so it takes me a second to really absorb the strangeness of the situation.

Is this some kind of prank?

Becks glances over at me with a frown when I slide out from behind him to get a better look at the spectacle. I know he wants me to stay put, but I don't need his protection.

As if under a spell, the crowd is transfixed on the figure, staying still and silent. I sneak a quick glance around, catching Ensley and her band members not far away, but Talon is nowhere to be seen. I have a momentary twinge of worry for him before my thoughts are interrupted by a booming voice.

"Welcome to Chaos," the figure atop the stone outcrop says. His voice is all gravel and grit as it booms throughout the space, his words lingering in the air even after the echoes fade.

Becks and I glance at each other, our faces mirror images of shock as audible gasps and excited whoops reverberate throughout the crowd.

I guess this is really happening. I'll never say I haven't been wrong before.

The figure, who sounds male but whose body shape is undistinguishable under the red robes, waits until it's silent again before speaking. "Your attendance tonight is considered your acceptance as Chaos spectators. The barrier you passed through upon entering the caverns isn't just to block out the sound and lights of this evening's festivities." He pauses again and every creature in the crowd hangs on his next words. "It also prevents you from discussing Chaos with anyone who isn't here this evening. Just like tonight, your devices won't work at any of the participating events either."

I suck in a gasp and look up at Becks, whose mouth is flattened into a grim line. That sounds like some sort of vampire compulsion magic to me, which is very illegal.

"A magical gag? Is that even possible?"

"I've never heard of anything like that before," he says, but what he doesn't say is that it's not possible.

The robed figure turns slowly, taking in the entirety of the crowd surrounding him. When he's pointed in our direction, his hood is so low over his face it conceals his features entirely. I'm sure that's not accidental.

"You may have heard rumors of Chaos and its trials, but I can assure you, you don't know the truth. Chaos is bigger than any of you can imagine, and older than you would believe. Its secrets have been taken to the grave more than once."

Dramatic much?

"I am your game master, one of only a few individuals tasked with keeping Chaos and its traditions alive. My identity will remain unknown for the duration of Chaos. I may be your next-door neighbor, I may be someone you pass on the street, but you'll never know because secrecy is of the utmost importance. Without it, Chaos wouldn't exist."

A low murmur starts in the crowd as everyone begins to really absorb that this is happening. The game master ignores the commotion and keeps talking.

"Tonight, you will take part in Chaos history. Each one of you will have the opportunity to compete, but beware . . . once you identify yourself as a competitor, there's no backing out." Of course there's no way to tell with his hood pulled so low, but the game master is pointed in my direction when he speaks his next words, and even without seeing his eyes, I can't help but feel he's speaking directly to me. "The first Chaos trial begins this evening. The four others will take place over the coming weeks but be assured these trials aren't for the weak or faint of heart. They are fraught with life-threatening dangers and intended for only the strongest among you. Once you enter Chaos, there's no way to self-eliminate and no guarantee of safety, so don't make this decision lightly."

What was a low murmur before has turned into a full-blown commotion. The energy in the crowd is a strange mixture of fear and excitement. Becks must feel it too, because he tries to step in front of me once again, but I skirt him and scurry over to Ensley, tugging on her hand to let her know I'm there.

She looks at me with wide eyes. "Can you believe this is happening?"

I shake my head. "Not really."

I feel, rather than see, Becks come up behind me. He steps close enough that his body heat buffers up against me, but he stops short of touching me. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed.

"Who would be stupid enough to enter this thing?" he asks, his low voice rumbling behind me.

Ensley and I both shake our heads and shrug, but a sense of foreboding takes over me, and goose bumps pebble my skin. I rub my hands over my arms to chase them away.

Becks leans forward. His chest brushes my back, and his breath tickles the hairs next to my ear. "Cold?"

Heat flashes through my body as I'm brought back to what happened, or rather what almost happened when the lights were doused a few minutes before. If only we'd had a few more moments . . .

I notice Ensley eyeing me, so I clear my throat, forcing those thoughts from my mind. "No. I'm fine."

Becks makes a sound in the back of his throat that shouldn't be attractive but still sends a shiver down my spine. I take a tiny step forward, needing some space or I might burst into flames at any moment.

"Finally, the prize," the game master announces, raising his voice to be heard over the commotion. "It is truly one of a kind. A priceless piece of our history that creatures have fought and died for over the centuries." The robed figure falls silent once again.

I have to keep from rolling my eyes. He certainly likes his dramatic pauses.

"An artifact once thought lost to time but recently re-discovered, its fabled powers have the potential to change the course of history itself," he says, and then raises his arms.

A boom sounds throughout the cavern, then a three-dimensional image appears in the air over his head. I take a step forward, not quite believing my eyes as a hologram of Shadow Striker rotates slowly in front of me.