Split or Swallow

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tem wanted to know more. Needed to know more.

But she feared she had already asked too much—probed too deep into Caspen’s past after an already stressful evening—and he was on the brink of shutting down because of it.

She pressed her lips to his cheek.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” she murmured. Her wording was purposeful; Tem wanted, without a doubt, to talk about it at some point. But it would do no good to push Caspen any further. They had both been through enough tonight.

Tem shifted closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He relaxed against her, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Caspen murmured:

“You should go home, Tem.”

Her stomach flipped. She pulled away.

“Are you upset? I didn’t meant to—”

“I am not upset.”

At the look on her face, he softened his tone.

“I promise I am not upset, Tem. But it is true that you should go home.”

Tem frowned. They were engaged, or nearly so. She had hoped they would stay together at least until the morning.

“But why?”

“The quivers have called a council meeting. I must attend.”

Tem had already asked too many questions tonight. But Caspen seemed far more willing to discuss this topic, so she asked another:

“What’s the meeting about?”

“Me.”

“Oh.”

Tem touched his shoulder.

“Are you sure I should leave? I could wait for you.”

He shook his head.

“I do not want you here alone.”

Tem had no rebuttal for that. After what happened with Rowe earlier, she could hardly argue she’d be safe.

“What will happen at the meeting?” she asked.

Caspen cupped her hip with his hand. Despite telling her she should leave, he hardly seemed eager to get rid of her.

“My recent…exploits…will be discussed.”

Tem thought of the golden claw around her neck. Surely, the quivers would have plenty to say about the fact that Caspen had proposed to a human. And there were also the murders of Jonathan and Christopher to contend with.

Tem shifted even closer.

“Will you get in trouble?” she whispered.

Caspen’s lips skimmed her shoulder.

“Perhaps.”

Tem climbed back onto his lap, touching just the tip of her finger to the head of his cock, which was already hard.

“What will happen to you?”

“That is up to the king to decide.”

Tem paused.

“I thought you were the Serpent King.”

To her surprise, Caspen chuckled softly.

“Only humans call me that. It has no bearing on my actual title.”

This was news to Tem. Everyone referred to Caspen as the Serpent King. He was a legend—the entire village had talked about him since before Tem was born. There wasn’t a single girl eligible for the training who didn’t know his reputation.

“In that case,” she angled her hips, lowering herself onto his cock. “What is your actual title?”

Caspen waited until she was fully seated before answering:

“I am the son of the king.”

Tem was a little too distracted by the way he felt inside her to fully absorb this information. But as she slowly began to slide herself up and down his cock, she managed to focus enough to say:

“So…you’re a prince?”

Caspen was equally distracted. His fingers were wrapped tightly around her thighs, guiding her movements. Eventually, he answered:

“Yes. I am a prince.”

Tem let that revelation sink in for a moment. It was absurd. She was involved with not one, but two princes. At the same time. It was nothing she could have ever predicted for herself.

But she would marvel at that later. Right now, there was only one prince she wanted.

Caspen let her set the pace, kissing softly up her neck as she rode him. Tem used his shoulders to steady herself, gripping his warm skin while establishing a rhythm. She loved having sex like this: slowly, intimately. Caspen liked it too. He gazed at her with unfiltered adoration, pulling her closer every chance he could. His hands touched every part of her, brushing up her hips to caress her breasts, holding his palms flat so she could press her nipples against them each time she arched her back. He understood her implicitly, without being asked. He knew she wanted to gain experience—to learn what her body liked—to use him to do it. There was no ego when it came to her pleasure. Both of them wanted her to enjoy it.

Tem was getting close. Her clitoris was tender; her nipples were hard. She was thrusting quickly now, riding him desperately, eager to come. Caspen’s fingers wound around the back of her neck. His other hand gripped her ass, yanking her hips against his in rapid succession.

That was all it took for her.

“ Caspen ,” she cried.

That was all it took for him.

Their climaxes fused together, rushing forward in a ferocious wave that threatened to drown them both. Tem would never get used to this: the raw exchange of energy that only sex could draw forth. They clung to each other, gasping, as the tide of their union flowed between them. Their faces were an inch apart. Tem brushed the tip of her tongue over his bottom lip, tasting the shadow of his venom. She bit him lightly, pulling his lip into her mouth.

Harder, Tem.

She clamped down, drawing blood. Caspen let out a rough grunt, but didn’t pull away. It felt natural to Tem—she wanted to taste every part of him. She already had his venom inside her. Why not his blood too?

Tem gently sucked his lip. When she drew away she watched in fascination as the wound healed itself, just as Caspen had done for her. He smiled.

“Did you like that?”

She nodded.

“Good.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

“But I hurt you.”

His smile only widened. “You can do anything you like to me, Tem. Trust I will enjoy it.”

There was no mistaking the desire in Caspen’s eyes. Tem watched it slowly fade as his pupils shrank and his eyes became golden once more. He pressed a light kiss to her shoulder.

“I will walk you out,” he said.

Tem wanted to protest. She wanted to stay here, with him, forever. But she also knew that he had more pressing things to do—things that might affect their future. She supposed she had better let him do them.

Tem slid the claw back in. Caspen walked her out.

When they arrived at the head of the trail, Caspen pulled her into his arms and held her. They stood there, clasped together, his body the only thing keeping her warm.

“Will you tell me how the meeting goes?” she murmured against his chest.

“Yes,” he murmured back. “But it will run quite long. Probably until morn?ing.”

“Wake me up.”

“No,” he shook his head. “You need sleep.”

Tem didn’t bother protesting. He was right; she needed sleep. It had been a harrowing twenty four hours, and her adrenaline was running low. The thought of her cozy cottage bed was exceedingly appealing, and the thought of falling asleep even more so. Caspen must have sensed this, because he kissed her on her forehead and said:

“Go, Tem.”

Tem went.

On the walk home, she realized she had no idea whether she was still in the competition—she’d left the castle before Leo had announced the final five girls. Now her heart performed a nervous swoop as she considered what the future might hold. She was one step away from being engaged to Caspen. But what if the council punished him? Or worse, punished her? Tem knew nothing of the ways of basilisks. If there were ramifications for an engagement such as theirs, she had no hope of predicting what they might be.

And then there was Leo.

What must he think of Tem? A student in love with her teacher. She would have to leave the competition if things progressed with Caspen. Her exit would undermine the entire elimination process. It was unheard of.

Or was it?

A conversation came back to her suddenly, striking her with the force of lightning:

“Has anyone ever left?” she asked.

“Once,” Caspen said. “But she was not my student.”

Why had that former student left? Tem wished she knew. She wished for a lot of things—for the council to approve her engagement, for Leo to forgive her, for her mother to live a life of leisure. But these were not wishes that would be granted tonight. For tonight, all Tem could do was go home and sleep. So she did.

The roosters crowed her awake.

Tem savored a few moments alone in the kitchen as she watched her mother tend to the garden. The festival would surely resume tonight. The Passing of the Crown was in a few days, and the proper buildup would need to commence. Tonight’s event was a significant one: the prince would kiss each of his remaining prospects in front of the entire village, during which the villagers would vote for their favorite girl. The voting was simple: whoever the crowd cheered for loudest was the winner.

On its surface, it seemed like a way to include the villagers in the elimination process. Whoever the prince picked would eventually be their queen, after all. The subjects of the kingdom deserved to have a say in who ruled them. In reality, it had little to no bearing on who the prince actually chose. It was all for show—nothing more than a way to appease the crowd and make them feel as if they had a voice. For Tem, the chicken shit girl , it was just another public humiliation. That is, unless Leo hadn’t already eliminated her.

Tem would never forget the way he’d looked at her last night—like she’d torn his heart straight from his chest. She hadn’t known she was capable of making a man look at her like that. Now she held two men in the palms of her hands. Tem looked down at the sprinkle of freckles scattered across her skin. She thought about how she’d threaded those very same fingers through Caspen’s hair as he’d buried his head between her legs last night.

The claw pulsed.

Tem reached for Caspen with her mind, but the corridor between them was shut. Before she could worry about this, she heard:

“How did it go, my dear?”

Her mother stood in the doorway. Tem had no idea how to answer her. The last thing she wanted was to shatter the illusion that they had hope for a better future. But she couldn’t tell her mother where she stood with Leo—not when Tem herself barely knew.

“It went…better than expected.”

Considering she’d expected the meeting between Caspen and Leo to result in bloodshed, it was the best thing she could think to say.

“That’s wonderful.”

Tem didn’t reply.

The claw pulsed again, harder this time. It was so strong she could feel her wetness beginning to drip down her legs.Tem excused herself hurriedly, desperate to be alone. The bathroom was closest, and by the time she reached it, the sensation was nearly unbearable.

Tem barely managed to shut the door before crossing to the only window, ful?l?y prepared to climb out and run back to the caves. All she could think about was getting to Caspen. She needed to taste him, to let him taste her. She wanted nothing more than to be in his chambers, alone, so they could touch each other without anyone watching. Tem bit her lip, ready to cry out—ready to finish. Suddenly, the pulses ceased.

Her mouth fell open in shock.

To be brought to the edge—to come so close to the brink, only to be denied, was nothing short of torture. She waited, her hands on the windowsill, desperate for just one more pulse.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, Caspen whispered a single word into her mind:

Stay.

Tem stood there, frozen, staring out the open window. A breeze swept into the bathroom, snapping her from her stupor.

Caspen wanted her to stay. He had denied her, then rejected her. Was there a worse feeling in the world?They were supposed to be engaged—he was supposed to be getting the council’s approval right now.

Tem held back tears as she closed the window, pulling the curtains shut. She didn’t know what to do with herself. Half of her wanted to cry. The other half felt downright ravenous, as if she could rip apart raw meat with her teeth. She hated how much control Caspen had, even when he was nowhere near her. Just when she was about to return to the kitchen, another word came, sending her heart into a gallop:

Undress.

And just like that, he had ensnared her again.

She could not defy him. She didn’t even want to.

Tem had no idea if Caspen could see her. But she pretended he could, undressing slowly, the way she did the first night they met. She undid the buttons of her nightdress one by one, pulling it from her shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. She slipped out of her underclothing, letting that fall too. When she was fully naked, she waited for another command, knowing it was only a matter of time before it came. Finally, it did:

Draw a bath.

She crossed to the bathtub, turning on the water and adding scented oils. She’d never been partial to baths. But this was one she knew she would enjoy.

Tem sat in the tub as it filled, watching as the bubbles rose up her legs. The pulse began again, coaxing her back into its familiar warmth. She leaned against the white porcelain, arching her neck. Goosebumps dotted her skin, and her nipples became so hard that they hurt. She placed her palms over them tentatively, cupping her breasts in her hands.

Squeeze.

She did it, and it was heaven.

Again.

This time she moaned, the sound disappearing beneath the tumble of the running water. Her whole body felt as if it were made of glass, as if she might shatter at the slightest provocation.

Do you like doing that for me?

Yes.

What else would you do for me, Tem? Show me.

Tem dipped her hands into the bath, wetting them with oil and water. Then she touched her breasts again, rubbing them gently, picturing Caspen in front of her, imagining he was watching her every move. The oil was slick, and smelled of roses. She softened her nipples, then hardened them again, feeling Caspen’s desire grow to match her own.

She wished he would come to her—she wished he was here to see her like this, to place his hands over hers and squeeze as hard as he liked.

Take it out.

She hesitated.

Do it, Tem. Right now.

Tem didn’t want to remove the claw; she liked the way it filled her. But she didn’t want to disobey him either, so she hooked her finger along its curve and pulled it from between her legs. Even taking it out felt good, and she sighed at the emptiness.

Lick it.

Tem didn’t hesitate. She touched the claw to her lips, starting from the thinner end and running her tongue slowly along its curve. As she did it, she tasted herself, and somehow, she also tasted Caspen. It was only once she reached the end of the claw that she realized it had grown in her hand. Where before it could have fit in one palm, now she needed both hands to hold it. She stared, enraptured, as it changed shape into something she recognized: something long and hard and formidable. It was the most important part of Caspen—the part he trusted her to hold—and Tem was honored to hold it.

She took the end in her mouth, swirling her tongue around its wide tip,doing what she knew he liked. Then she took it all the way down her throat, slipping it in and out in a steady rhythm.

Faster.

Tem obeyed, propping her elbows on the side of the bathtub so she could take him as deep as possible. She did this until she sensed, rather than heard, when Caspen was close to finishing. A raw ache ran through her, and she recognized it as the twin to hers. Tem knew she had mere seconds before he came, so without hesitation, she pulled his length out of her mouth and slid it once more between her legs. She winced as she did so; the smooth stone was unforgiving—so much harder than his actual cock.

As soon as it was inside her, pleasure exploded in her mind. The swell was so undeniably strong that Tem cried out, throwing her head back in utter surrender, allowing his surge of gratification to obliterate every thought in her brain besides the one in his:

Mine.

Tem was still riding out her orgasm when their connection closed.

She lay back in the bathtub, panting, her body flushed with pleasure. She remained there until the bath water was cold, sitting in silence as the claw returned to its normal shape, pressing insistently against her clitoris. Tem rinsed herself before dressing and rejoining her mother in the kitchen.

The rest of the day passed in a slog of menial farm chores.

After the lightness of her orgasm, Tem found she was dreading the festival with every fiber of her being. She couldn’t decide which was worse: getting eliminated from the competition and having to tell her mother she’d failed, or staying in the competition and kissing Leo in front of the entire village. There were no good options here. It seemed like there never were.

By the time they were traipsing toward the village, Tem was sick with anticipation.

Night had fallen; the only light was the warm glow of the town square in the distance, which was lit up like a chandelier. By the time they reached the festival, the celebrations were well and truly underway. Colorful candles were strung from one side of the square to the other, giving the cobblestones a magical quality. The space was packed with vendors selling food, trinkets, and ribbons like the ones Vera always wore in her hair. The statues of Jonathan and Christopher had been removed—the only thing in the center of the square was the large wooden stage. Tem scanned the crowd for the one person she knew would settle her nerves.

As expected, Gabriel was by the mead.

“Gabriel,” she said when she reached him. “Am I out?”

Gabriel threw his arm around her. He’d clearly started early.

“Don’t know, dearest. The prince didn’t eliminate anyone.”

“ What? Why?”

He shrugged.

“Nobody knows. Didn’t even meet with half the basilisks. He had an argument with the king, then made everyone leave.”

“He fought with his father?”

“He did indeed.”

A chill rushed through Tem. It was because of her. It had to be. There was no other possible explanation as to why Leo hadn’t proceeded with the elimination.

“Well, what happened? ”

Gabriel was drinking his mead with the same arm that was around Tem’s shoulders. She kept having to dodge his glass every time it went to his mouth.

“You sure ask a lot of questions.”

“ Gabriel ,” she grabbed his arm, pulling him so they were face to face. “Focus. What did Leo say to Maximus?”

“You know,” he said lightly, tapping the tip of her nose with his fingertip. “You’re rather bossy tonight.”

Tem sighed. Gabriel pressed his lips to her cheek before answering:

“I didn’t hear what was said. I was in the kitchen. But I’m sure Vera knows.”

Tem’s eyes found Vera, who was standing on the edge of the square looking decidedly less superior than usual. Was she one of the girls whose basilisk never met with the prince? Tem remembered the jealousy on Vera’s face when she saw Caspen touch her waist. Perhaps she was angry that her evening with Rowe had been cut short.

“I’d rather not talk to Vera,” Tem muttered.

“You and me both.”

Tem rolled her eyes, grabbing Gabriel’s glass of mead and downing the rest of it in one gulp. He gasped in mock surprise.

“Thief.”

“Oh, shut up. The next one’s on me.”

Gabriel laughed. “How very generous of you.”

Everyone drank for free during the festival. The alcohol was provided by the royals, and it was notoriously strong. Tem and Gabriel spent the next hour flitting around the square, drinking far more than they should. For Tem, it was a way to distract herself from what might happen later. For Gabriel, it was just another weeknight.

They were on what felt like their tenth glass of mead when Caspen’s presence loomed suddenly into her mind.

Tem.

Tem immediately spilled her drink onto the ground.

“Oy,” Gabriel yelped as he leaped backward. “Careful!”

“Sorry,” Tem muttered. To Caspen, she said:

How was the council meeting?

A long pause.

Eventful.

It was a typical Caspen answer. Just enough to appease her—not enough to actually tell her what had happened.

Are you in trouble?

Another pause.

No.

She had to trust he wasn’t lying. Still, it seemed impossible that there would be no consequences for his actions. Tem decided to push the matter:

Will your quiver accept our engagement?

This time the pause lasted so long Tem thought he might have closed the door between their minds. A flare of irritation snapped through her.

Caspen? Will they accept?

His voice came back to her:

On one condition.

Which is?

His hesitation was palpable. She sent an insistent wave of impatience at him, making it clear she would not wait any longer.

Tell me.

Not now.

Why not now?

We will discuss it the next time you are here.

Tonight?

No. You will come to me tomorrow.

But we—

I have matters to attend to tonight, Tem.

But—

Caspen severed their connection.

A hot coil of anger curled inside Tem. She hated it when he did that. It made her feel helpless in a relationship where there was already a significant imbalance of power.

“Tem,” Gabriel’s arm was around her again, jolting her abruptly back to the present.

“What?”

“Mr. Jawline has arrived.”

All the mead in the world couldn’t prepare Tem for the sight of Leo. He was flanked by his father and the Lord Chamberlain, his long legs closing the distance to the stage. Lilly followed close behind, and Tem wondered what she thought of all this. It must be strange to watch her brother go through a public courtship process. Then again, nothing the royals did was particularly normal.

“He looks sad,” Gabriel whispered, pulling Tem from her thoughts.

Tem studied Leo’s face. His mouth was a tight line, his eyes on the ground as he walked. A wave of tenderness flowed suddenly through her. The last thing she wanted was to see Leo sad. To think he might be sad because of her was unbearable.

Gabriel nudged her.

“Guess you’ll just have to cheer him up.”

To Tem’s surprise, she found that she wanted to. Before she could reply, Leo clapped his hands, and the crowd fell silent.

“Would the seven beautiful ladies I’ve had the pleasure of courting please do me the honor of joining me onstage?”

Tem watched as Vera nearly sprinted through the crowd. With a heavy eye roll, she handed Gabriel her mead and followed suit, falling into line behind the other girls. When they reached the stage, Lilly extended her hand to each girl, helping them up the steps. When her hand touched Tem’s, she winked.

Tem didn’t have a chance to wink back.

Leo’s eyes were already on her as she ascended the steps, and Tem couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. Was he angry? Or simply sad, as Gabriel had said?

The crowd was getting loud again—it seemed they couldn’t stay calm for more than a few minutes at a time. Unlimited mead tended to have that effect. Their cheers only grew as the girls lined up in a row and Leo extended his hand to Vera, who was first in line. She took it eagerly, following him to the front of the stage. The crowd roared as they faced each other. Realization dawned.

Leo was going to use each kiss to decide who to eliminate.

It was even worse than the podiums. Was Tem about to be eliminated in front of the entire village? She couldn’t imagine anything more embarrassing. Perhaps she should have expected this. The royals were heartless, after all.

A sharp knife of jealousy twisted Tem’s stomach as Leo placed his hands on Vera’s waist. She remembered the prince’s words from last night, whispered through a haze of hurt:

Am I to share you?

She was not the only one being shared. Leo had his own advantage in their silent battle of wills: he was not fully in her grasp, and she was an idiot to think he ever had been. Tem didn’t care that they were in public—she wanted nothing more than to run forward and rip Leo’s hands off of Vera. Instead she watched as he leaned in and kissed her straight on the lips.

The cheer of the crowd was deafening.

It was no surprise: Vera was the village favorite. Adored by every man, envied by every woman. Tem could never hope to compete with such undeniable allure. The kiss was short—but passionate—and when they finally broke apart, the cheer lasted for so long that Leo had to hold up his hands in protest, waving the crowd down to a reasonable level before reaching for the next in line. Leo kissed girl after girl. The crowd roared on.

The knife twisted deeper with every kiss.

By the time Leo got to the second to last girl, he didn’t even bother looking at her. Instead his eyes bore straight into Tem’s as he leaned in. She held his gaze as they kissed, determined not to look away—determined not to let him faze her. It didn’t matter that everyone was watching. It didn’t matter that the crowd was cheering for the girl who was currently in Leo’s arms. Tem didn’t like watching him kiss anyone else. And she certainly didn’t like the way he was flaunting it in front of her. It was especially unfair given the lengths she’d taken to keep her connection with Caspen a secret. Tem had never used that to make Leo jealous. Maybe she should have.

By the time Leo was headed her way, Tem was angry.

Only one thing would make her feel better—one thing would make Leo remember who they were to each other. Tem was glad Caspen was no longer in her mind. He didn’t need to see the way she grabbed Leo’s shoulders and yanked him closer—he didn’t need to hear the moan that escaped her throat as she pressed her lips hungrily to his. Immediately, she could feel his cock growing hard. Tem want?ed to touch it.

Instead she kissed Leo with everything she had, allowing herself to give in to temptation, allowing herself to feel something for the human prince . After all, was?n’t that what Leo wanted? For Tem to want him? Maybe she didn’t want him in the same way she wanted Caspen—maybe her connection with Leo wasn’t ethereal and otherworldly and magical the way it was with the basilisk. But it was real. It always had been. There was no denying that Tem was drawn to Leo just as he was drawn to her—that they needed each other in a way that couldn’t be defined.

Leo wasn’t perfect. And Tem liked that.

His body folded against hers, his fingers lacing deep into her curls. The slightest hint of whiskey lingered on his tongue. Tem drank it in—drank him in.

Leo kissed her for far longer than he kissed the other girls. There would be no mistaking his preference for her now, if there was ever a question to begin with. When Tem finally drew away, Leo barely let her go. His slate gray eyes were inch?es from hers, and she saw nothing but victory in them. She knew the prince loved a challenge—that he viewed Caspen as a competitor—an opponent— and Tem as the prize to be won. She knew she’d given him exactly what he wanted. But perhaps, for once, it was what she wanted too.

“We kissed for too long,” she whispered.

“Impossible,” he breathed. “I’d kiss you forever if I could.”

It was then that Tem noticed the crowd was silent.

There were no cheers for her like there were for Vera—no frenetic roar of approval. The villagers had one vote to cast, and it was not for Tem. There were only two people clapping for her: Gabriel and her mother. She couldn’t pretend to be surprised.

Leo didn’t acknowledge the silence. He simply guided Tem back to her place in line, pressing a kiss to her wrist before dropping her hand and turning to the girl beside her. Leo leaned in, his angular face tilting to the side as he said:

“Sorry darling.”

The girl stepped back in horror.

Tem flashed suddenly to her first night at the castle, when Leo had eliminated the girls in the exact same way. Everyone watched in silence as he walked further down the line, stopping in front of a girl with red hair who immediately started crying. She fled the stage before he even had a chance to speak. Leo stood still for a moment, staring at the empty spot before him. Then he turned once more to the crowd.

“Thank you for your vote,” he glanced at Vera, who preened insufferably at the end of the line. “Rest assured your voice has been heard.”

The crowd cheered again. Several mead glasses met their deaths on the cobblestones. Without another word, Leo descended the stage to join his father, whose face was a mask of rage. Tem could only imagine what Maximus was thinking. To watch his son favor the town pariah was surely cause for fury. The king would not take kindly to Leo’s insolence. It would strain their already fragile relationship, and put Tem straight in Maximus’s crossfire—somewhere she had no desire to be. But these were worries for another time.

For now, mercifully, the show was over.

Tem filed off the stage with the other girls before finding her way back to Gabriel. He handed her a glass, which she immediately downed.

“I’d give it an eight,” Gabriel said.

“Excuse me?”

“Your form,” he said. “Eight out of ten.”

“My form? ”

“Bit too much tongue for me, but I suppose the prince might be into that. Next time stand on your tiptoes—otherwise he’s a touch too tall for you.”

Tem let out an incredulous laugh as she realized he was rating her kissing. She knew it was just a way to distract her from her poor showing with the crowd. Gabriel always knew how to make everything better. Tem never had a lot in life. But she’d always had him.

They spent the rest of the evening standing at the edge of the crowd, playing a drinking game where they took a sip whenever Vera fluttered her eyelashes at someone. Eventually, Tem’s mother appeared by her side.

“It is getting late, my dear.”

“Of course, mother. See you at home.”

Her mother shook her head.

“I am staying in the village tonight.”

“Oh.”

Tem had forgotten that her mother was tending to the butcher’s young daughter while her parents were out of town. The crowd’s silence loomed once again in Tem’s mind. How had it felt for her mother to witness Tem’s public disgrace? A slick thread of guilt tightened her throat. It was an old wound, split open again.

On a whim, Tem embraced her mother. They rarely touched in such a way: Tem could count on one hand the times they’d held each other for longer than a brief moment. If her mother was surprised, she didn’t show it. She simply tucked her head against Tem’s shoulder and squeezed her back. When they drew apart, Tem said:

“See you tomorrow, mother.”

Her mother gave her a small smile. Then she left.

“In that case,” Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Horseman?”

Tem sighed. They hardly needed to drink any more. But her mother wouldn’t be home, and she couldn’t go see Caspen. What else was she supposed to do with her evening?

“Horseman.”

They stumbled to the bar together. When they reached it, people were already trickling in from the festival. Gabriel pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“First round’s on me.”

Tem didn’t protest.

She slid into their favorite booth, ignoring what felt like everyone’s eyes on her. No doubt people would be talking about tonight’s events for a long time.

Her thoughts returned to the conversation with Caspen, and the one condition under which his quiver would accept their engagement. What kind of condition could it possibly be? And what “matters” did he have to attend to in the meantime? A wave of annoyance swept through Tem. She wasn’t over the fact that he’d cut off their connection with no warning. It was unacceptable that he chose to exercise his power in such a one-sided way. They couldn’t have a proper relationship if he did?n’t communicate with her. Tem was always in the dark—always the last to know. It had to stop.

Gabriel slid into the booth and handed her a beer.

“Here you are, dearest.”

“Thanks,” she managed a smile. They clinked their glasses and took a sip together.

“You know,” Gabriel leaned closer. “Old Steve is looking pretty good tonight.”

“Not another word.”

“I’m just saying. If it doesn’t work out with the prince, you can marry him. I bet he likes a bit of tongue.”

“Can’t I just marry you?”

“Please, Tem. I’m swimming in stable boys.”

Tem sighed.

“Although,” he said musingly. “You might try fucking in a carriage sometime. Roomy. ”

Tem rolled her eyes. Then she looked at Gabriel. He was drunk, and so was she, and for some reason, all she wanted was to tell him everything that was happening in her life. She wanted to tell him about the claw, about her bond with Caspen, about Jonathan and Christopher. The secrets were beginning to eat her alive.

“Gabriel,” she said slowly. “What if I told you I was responsible for something bad?”

He took a long swallow of beer. His glass was half empty already.

“I’d be intrigued.”

“What if it was really, really bad?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I’d be very, very intrigued.”

Tem took a gulp of beer. Was she really about to do this? Before she could decide, Gabriel held up his hand.

“Tem,” he said in a pseudo-serious tone. “If you’re going to tell me something important, I need hard liquor.”

She had to smile at that. Quite frankly, she needed hard liquor in order to tell him.

“Fine.”

Tem stood and made her way to the bar, where Old Steve was leering at her. Before Tem could rummage in her pocket for coins, she heard:

“It’s on me.”

Tem’s blood ran cold. She’d recognize that voice anywhere.

Leo.