CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The prince held a glass of whiskey, which he swirled casually. His eyes flicked briefly over Tem’s dress before landing on Caspen. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then Leo stepped forward.
He moved slowly, stopping only when he was in front of the basilisk. They were dead even in height, but Caspen’s build made him seem taller. Tem would have paid good money to know what each of them was thinking. But Caspen’s mind was still closed off to her, and she’d never been able to access Leo’s. She merely watched, helplessly, as the two men in her life stared at one another. Leo broke the silence:
“Thank you.”
Caspen blinked.
“For?”
Leo looked down at Tem.
“For her.”
Caspen stiffened. His hands were slowly forming into fists.
“She’s really something, isn’t she?” Leo said nonchalantly.
Tem wondered if he had any idea the danger he was in.
“Yes,” Caspen said through his teeth. “She is.”
“Of course,” Leo shot a grin at Tem. “She’s also rather difficult.”
Caspen didn’t acknowledge that. His voice was monotone as he asked:
“Are you satisfied with her performance?”
There was a pause, and Tem’s stomach squirmed as she remembered the point of this meeting was to grade her.
Leo laughed. “Define performance.”
Caspen’s gaze slid to Tem before snapping immediately back to Leo.
“You have not yet slept together?”
His words lingered in the room like smoke.
Leo took a sip of his whiskey. “You sound surprised. Don’t you two communicate?”
A pulse went through the claw. If only the prince knew how they communicat?ed.
“I assume you’ve slept together,” Leo continued without missing a beat. “Care to tell me what I have to look forward to?”
Tem’s mouth fell open. Leo had always been cavalier about sex, but hearing him discuss it so flippantly was still a shock.
Caspen bristled. Tem’s palms began to sweat again.
“She will satisfy you,” he said stiffly. “And if she does not, it is my failure. Not hers.”
Tem processed his words. She’d never thought about the training in that way. She hadn’t considered that she was a reflection of Caspen, and if the prince didn’t choose her, it was just as much his fault as hers.
“Hm,” Leo swirled his whiskey. “You assume you know what will satisfy me.”
Caspen rolled his shoulders. Tem said a silent prayer to Kora for Leo’s life.
“I assume nothing beyond what I know of human men.”
Leo frowned, and for the first time since the conversation began, his tone hardened:
“And what do you know of human men?”
Another pause. Caspen’s eyes locked onto Leo’s, and Tem felt a tangible shift in the energy of the room as he said:
“That they are easily satisfied.”
There was no mistaking the challenge in Caspen’s voice. He’d essentially called Leo simple. Predictable. He was belittling him, implying that Leo—and all humans—had no depth. Tem knew it was not an insult the prince would tolerate.
Leo’s fingers tightened on his whiskey. He bared his gold, tapered teeth.
“You forget your place, snake.”
Caspen went immediately still.
It was a mirror of the conversation she had just witnessed between Caspen and Rowe, only this time, Leo was the one putting Caspen in his place. Tem was reminded suddenly that although Caspen was an important part of her life, he was meaningless to Leo. To the prince, Caspen was nothing more than a tool—a means to an end—a cog in a tradition that was hundreds of years old. Leo believed the same thing his father believed: the basilisks were beneath him.
How wrong he was.
“Enough,” snapped Tem.
They both looked at her, eyebrows raised.
“I’m not livestock ,” she barreled on before either of them had a chance to interrupt. “You can’t just talk about me like I’m not here.”
It was deathly quiet. Tem could hear her pulse pounding in her skull. She turned to Leo.
“I’m your future wife. And I deserve to be treated as such.”
Leo’s eyebrows hiked up even further. Tem held his gaze. It seemed safer than looking at Caspen, who was palpably radiating anger. The prince seemed to be considering something—considering her. For all the times Leo had looked at her before, Tem wondered if this was the moment when he truly saw her as a person , not as a commodity. It was the bare minimum of what she deserved.
“You’re right,” Leo said finally.
Caspen said nothing.
This time, Tem let the silence sit. She wanted them to think about what she’d said—to truly comprehend her place in this process. It was unacceptable to her that they thought this was about them. Tem was the one with a choice to make. Tem was the one who held the power. If she chose to walk out of this room, neither the basilisk nor the prince could do anything to stop her. They both wanted her. They should start acting like it.
Leo reached for her hand.
A sudden wave of rage surged inside Tem’s mind. But it wasn’t hers; it was Caspen’s. For once, Tem didn’t let him in. She slammed the door shut between them, doing everything she could to keep him out. She took Leo’s hand, focusing on the way it felt: warm and strong, his long fingers intertwining with hers as he asked:
“What do you need from me, Tem?”
He said it quietly, as if they were the only two people in the room. Tem considered the question. There was only one thing she needed from Leo—the same thing she needed from herself.
“Patience.”
The corner of his mouth twitched.
“Not my specialty, I’m afraid.”
The rage was growing stronger. It took everything she had to suppress it. Just when resistance became impossible, Leo turned to Caspen.
“Leave us.”
Tem expected him to protest. Or perhaps explode. Instead he gave a curt nod, and a moment later, he was gone. As soon as the door snapped shut, Caspen’s rage retreated from her mind. Tem blinked, shaking her head to clear it. Leo was still holding her hand.
“Tem,” his grip tightened. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. But I should…check on him.”
Leo frowned. “Why?”
“Because…”
She could come up with nothing to say. There was no logical reason why she would need to check on her teacher, and they both knew it. But the fact remained that she had to see Caspen. So she said the only thing she could think of:
“I’ll be right back, Leo. I promise.”
Leo was still frowning. It was a long, weighted moment before he responded:
“Of course. Take your time.”
Tem didn’t give him a chance to change his mind. She extracted her fingers from his, pushing through the door and back into the ballroom. Caspen’s tall frame was at the edge of the crowd. She ran for him, not caring who was in her way.
“Caspen!”
He turned, his expression unreadable.
“ She will satisfy you? ” Tem hissed when she reached him, disguising her hurt with anger. “How could you say that about me?”
Caspen let out a humorless laugh. “I did my duty, Tem. Nothing more.”
He turned away, but Tem grabbed his arm. “Your duty? Is that all I am to you?”
Caspen whirled around, closing the distance between them in half a second.
“You know very well what you are to me, Tem. But my hands are tied.”
She glared up at him.
“Actually, it’s my hands that are tied.”
Caspen’s eyes narrowed.
“Are they? You are his future wife , are you not? Such an esteemed position is hardly a burden.”
Tem stepped back as if she had been slapped.
“I said that to defend myself,” she whispered. “And it’s just a fact. You know itis.”
“The only fact is that he wants you. Even more so now that he senses a challenge from me.”
“Senses a—”
“And if he thinks he can take what is mine,” Caspen cut her off, leaning even closer. “He is wrong.”
This time when he turned to leave, Tem let him.
The sounds of the ballroom became a dull roar as she closed her eyes. Caspen hadn’t said Leo’s name—not once. Perhaps it was a way to degrade him—to undermine the hierarchy the royals insisted on enforcing. Jonathan and Christopher’s statues flashed suddenly through Tem’s mind. She would not allow that to happen to Leo. Not ever.
Tem opened her eyes.
There was Gabriel, laughing with a butler. There was Vera, pining after Rowe. Nobody in the crowded ballroom knew what she had just endured—what Caspen had done and was capable of doing. It was becoming too much for Tem to bear. She could not continue to carry such secrets alone.
Somehow, she found her way back to Leo. He looked up as she entered the room.
“What was that about?”he asked. He had a funny expression on his face, as if he were trying to figure something out.
“Nothing,” Tem said automatically.
It wasn’t her best, but she had nothing left to give. Leo stepped closer.
“I’d rather you didn’t lie to me, Tem. Remember?”
Tem sighed. Of course she remembered. But she also couldn’t tell Leo the truth. So she said:
“I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”
She knew he didn’t believe her.
“Is he always like that?” Leo asked.
“Like what?”
“A bit of a brute.”
“Caspen is not a brute.”
The words came out sharper than she’d intended. Leo raised an eyebrow at her tone.
“Have I offended you?”
“You insulted someone I care about.”
Too late, Tem realized it was utterly the wrong thing to say. The look of pure disgust on Leo’s face was exactly the one Rowe had given Caspen earlier.
“You care about him?”
Tem tried to recover, reaching for his arm.
“I just don’t think he’s a brute. He prepared me for you, after all. Don’t you think we owe him our gratitude?”
Leo jerked out of her grasp. His voice was flat when he spoke again:
“Preparing you for me is his duty. I owe him nothing. And neither do you.”
“Leo—” she started, but he shook his head, and she fell silent.
He stepped closer. His gray eyes were shards of ice.
“Is this why you won’t fuck me? Because of him? ”
Tem’s mouth opened, then closed.
In the silence, he studied her.
She didn’t dare speak. Leo was smart; he would not be fooled by words. Tem had no choice but to let him come to his own conclusion. When the prince finally spoke, his voice was a quiet murmur of realization:
“He means something to you.”
Tears began to form. Tem was being pulled in a direction she had no control over—being forced to reveal something she had never intended to reveal. Everything was coming to a head right now , and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
There was no point in lying. Leo would see right through it if she did. So Tem whispered:
“Yes.”
True hurt and disbelief flashed across Leo’s face.
“How much?” Leo asked.
“How much what?”
He leaned in so she couldn’t look anywhere but at him.
“How much, exactly , does he mean to you?”
Tem couldn’t believe this was happening.
“He…” she started, but had no idea how to put it into words. How much did Caspen mean to her? A lot. But she couldn’t say that to Leo. Before she could come up with an answer, he was already asking a far worse question:
“Do you love him?”
She needed to lie. That was all there was to it; she needed to conceal the truth, just this once. But Tem couldn’t do it. The more she tried, the tighter her chest became. It was like trying to speak through a suctioned tube. She could barely get the word through her teeth:
“No.”
Leo’s entire body was rigid. Tem wanted to reach for him, but didn’t. There was nothing to say—no way to fix this. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that she’d just set something in motion that couldn’t be undone. For a moment, Tem was afraid Leo might scream at her.
But then, inexplicably, he softened. His shoulders slumped as his eyes dropped to the floor. It was a long moment before he spoke, and when he did, his voice was hoarse:
“Am I to share you?”
Tem couldn’t believe the agony in his voice. She had forgotten that underneath Leo’s bravado, he had a heart just like hers. A heart that was capable of want—of love . Leo’s ego shielded him from vulnerability; it was easy to forget how sensitive he was. But in moments like these, Tem understood him better than she understood herself. She knew what it meant to yearn.
“That’s…up to you, I suppose,” she said quietly.
The prince looked at her with such devastation she wanted to cry.
“No, Tem. That’s up to you.”
Tem reached for him again, but he stepped away.
“Go to him,” he said.
“What?”
“You love Caspen ,” his voice was sharper than a knife. “So go to him.”
Tem flinched.
“Leo, please—”
“Just. Go.”
Then he turned, and was gone.
Alone at last, she let the tears fall.
There was no point in lingering. Tem ran from the castle, trying not to think about what would happen if Leo eliminated her tonight. First and foremost, her mother would never forgive her. The farm had only become more of a burden since Tem was away so often training for the prince. Her mother had taken side work to make ends meet—watching small children for the women in the village, tending to the neighbor’s cats when they were away from home. It was a lifestyle that wasn’t sustainable. Tem’s courtship with the prince was their only lifeline: the only thing that would save them. And now that was probably gone.
Go to him.
Leo’s words raced through her head over and over as she made for the carriages. Part of her wanted to obey—to go to Caspen and lose herself in his arms. Another part of her remembered the wave of rage Caspen felt when Leo took her hand. What if that rage became directed at her? He’d already used the claw to hurt her tonight. There was no guarantee he wouldn’t do it again. But if she went home, she would have to face her mother, and Tem couldn’t stand the thought of telling her what had just happened.
“Where to, miss?” the footman asked as she climbed into the carriage.
“The forest.”
Tem spent the entirety of the ride with her head in her hands. Despite her distress, no tears came. Instead, she felt only an endless wave of adrenaline that set her teeth on edge. She was done waiting for answers from Caspen. It wasn’t fair that he withheld information from her the way he did; it wasn’t fair that she was constantly in the dark. Tem needed to know where she stood with him—she needed to know that in a single night, she hadn’t lost everything that ever mattered to her.
When the carriage arrived at the edge of the forest, the footman helped her out with an incredulous look.
“Wouldn’t you rather I take you home, miss?”
“No,” Tem said simply.
She walked quickly into the trees, keeping her eyes on the ground. The last time she’d been on this path, Jonathan and Christopher had assaulted her. Now they were harmless stone statues, frozen in the middle of the square. How things had changed.
The cave was dark, the fireplace cold.
Tem didn’t bother waiting for a welcoming committee. She dipped immediately into the shadows, traversing the passageway using nothing but her memory. When she reached the door to Caspen’s chambers, she paused. There was no telling what kind of mood he’d be in. Did he even want to see her? Both Caspen and Leo had discovered that the other meant something to her tonight. It seemed too cruel a punishment for her to lose them both because of it.
Without another second’s hesitation, Tem opened the door.
The fireplace was lit, but the room was empty.
Tem sat on the edge of Caspen’s bed and wondered suddenly if this had been a terrible mistake. What was she thinking, coming to his chambers without an invitation? What if he didn’t want to see her—or worse—what if he had sought refuge with someone else? Her stomach turned at the thought. She could hardly expect loyalty from Caspen when she herself was entangled with the prince.
The fire began to burn low.
What if he never showed? Tem had no idea where Caspen might be—or if he even knew she was here. He could be somewhere deep in the forest, hunting in his true form. He might not return for hours. Tem stood, resolved to go back home. That was when she heard it.
“Temperance.”
Her full name.
Tem looked over to see Rowe in the doorway. He must have just returned from the castle. She was immediately aware of how vulnerable she was—alone under the mountain with a basilisk that wasn’t Caspen. The situation was far outside of her control.
“I came to see Caspen,” she managed to say. “Is he here?”
“He is close by,” Rowe replied smoothly, tilting his head as if listening to something. “And getting closer.”
Tem’s heart picked up the pace. If Caspen was close, she was almost safe.
Rowe stepped into the room, and Tem instinctually stepped back. The basilisk chuckled at her retreat.
“Are you afraid, Temperance?”
Tem said nothing. Rowe smiled, and her blood ran cold.
“Answer me,” he commanded.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m afraid.”
His smile widened.
“As you should be.”
Tem raised her chin. It was the only thing she could do to defy him.
Rowe crossed slowly to the fireplace, keeping his eyes on Tem the entire time. He moved the way Caspen did, with the same unattainable grace.
“I must confess,” he said musingly, as if this were a casual conversation and not a deeply dangerous scenario. “I cannot understand Caspenon’s infatuation with you. You are not much to look at.”
Tem couldn’t muster the energy to be insulted. She knew there was no winning with Rowe.
“Of course,” he continued. “Caspenon has always been… sentimental .”
Tem reached desperately for Caspen with her mind, but the door between them was still shut tight.
“He knows what he wants,” she said stiffly.
“That much is clear,” Rowe sneered. “And yet, I doubt he knows the price he will pay if he gets it.”
“I don’t understand,” said Tem despite herself.
“No,” his eyes flicked down her neck, to the little golden claw. “You would not.”
Tem fought to control the conversation:
“If anything happens to me, Caspen will seek revenge.”
Rowe laughed darkly.
“Do not speak on things you do not understand. Revenge is already mine to seek.”
For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire. Rowe glanced over his shoulder at the doorway, as if he’d heard something. Then a sly smile pulled at his lips as he said:
“But perhaps not tonight.”
When his gaze returned to her, he looked her up and down one last time.
“Until we meet again, Temperance.”
As if he were never there to begin with, Rowe disappeared.
Tem let out a long breath. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight up, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just dodged certain death. All the tears that had refused to come earlier now threatened to engulf her. Rowe was dangerous. There was no doubt about it. And clearly he had a personal problem with Caspen—one he was willing to use Tem to exacerbate. Revenge is already mine to seek. What did that mean?
What had Caspen done?
Before she could dissect it further, she heard her name again:
“Tem?”
This time it was Caspen standing in the doorway. He crossed to her immediately, stopping just short of touching her. “What are you doing?”
“I had to talk to you.”
“You should not have come here alone.”
“I know.”
“It is dangerous for you. I cannot protect you if—” he cut off, his eyes traveling over her with sudden concern. His nostrils flared. “Rowe. I can smell him. Was he here?”
Tem shook her head. If one more thing went wrong tonight, she was going to scream.
“Caspen,” she said. “I don’t want to talk about Rowe.”
Caspen pursed his lips. It was obvious he wanted to say something else, but Tem was grateful when he refrained. The weight of the evening hung between them as they studied each other. Tem chose her question carefully:
“How do we move forward?”
Caspen sighed.
“That…depends.”
“On?”
“Tem,” he sighed again. “I do not wish to discuss this now.”
But Tem was fed up.
She was done letting Caspen decide what they could and could not discuss. He wouldn’t talk about the voice in the castle, he wouldn’t talk about the status of their relationship, he wouldn’t talk about anything of value. It was enough. She refused to live in a state of limbo any longer.
“How do we move forward?” she insisted, her voice sharp.
Caspen’s eyes narrowed. She had never used that tone with him before.
“I cannot predict the future, Tem,” he said, his voice equally sharp.
“I’m not asking you to. I’m just asking what you want.”
“You know very well what I want.”
“But I don’t ,” she cried. “You never confide in me. You never tell me how you feel. You expect me to read your mind, then you get angry when I can’t do it. You’re the one who won’t let me in. Not the other way around.”
Tem was on the verge of tears. She waited a moment before finishing quietly:
“You never talk about the future. I…don’t know what I am to you.”
Caspen was looking at her with unrestrained disbelief. She didn’t know if he was shocked by her words, or the way she had said them. Either way, it was a long time before he spoke, and when he did, his voice was barely a whisper:
“ You are my future. It is as simple as that.”
Now the tears fell.
Because it was not simple. Not at all. Even though it was everything she’d ever wanted to hear from Caspen, Tem had no idea how they were supposed to be together. She didn’t fit in with his people, nor he with hers. A future with Caspen was of no benefit to her mother, or the farm. Things had never felt more impossible.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
He shrugged, the motion stilted. “It makes this complicated.”
“Was this not already complicated?”
Caspen shook his head. “It is more so now. You cannot comprehend the difficulty I am in.”
“Then tell me.”
He shook his head again. She’d pushed him too far; he was closing himself off from her. But Tem would not allow that anymore. If they had a future together, she deserved to have a say in it.
“Caspen,” she touched his arm, stepping closer. “Tell me.”
For a long time, Caspen stood motionless. Then he traced his fingertips along her shoulder and down the gold chain until he was touching the little claw between her breasts.
“This is not just a necklace,” he said softly.
“Then what is it?”
Caspen paused, his fingers stroking the charm. “It is…a gesture of intent.”
Tem frowned. “Intent to what?”
His eyes found hers.
“To marry you.”