Split or Swallow

CHAPTER TWENTY

There was absolute silence as they stared at each other.

For some reason, Tem felt perfectly at ease. From the look on Leo’s face, he did too. His mouth turned up at the corner as he stood slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Leo whispered:

“What are we about to do, Tem?”

Her mind was already blank, her arms wrapping around him.

“Whatever we want,” she whispered back.

Then she kissed him.

It wasn’t their first kiss, yet somehow it was new. Somehow, this time, it felt as if they were on equal footing—like Tem’s cottage was far away from everything that had been weighing on them—like they both knew they were safe with the oth?er here. They kissed slowly, neither of them in a rush, neither of them giving in to necessity just yet.

Tem tugged on Leo’s shirt.

“Take this off,” she said.

He laughed softly.

“If you insist.”

She watched as he took it off. Leo’s torso was angular and lean, so different from the brutal muscles on Caspen. There was a tiny scar under his chin, and she touched it tentatively.

“What’s that from?” she asked.

“Carriage accident.”

Tem giggled.

“Is that funny?” he murmured.

His hands were moving too, skimming down the curves of her hips.

“Only rich people have scars from carriage accidents.”

“I am a rich person, Tem.”

“Don’t remind me. It’s one of your more abysmal qualities.”

Leo laughed.

Then he dipped down, grabbed the back of her thighs, and picked her up. Tem completed the motion, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom. When they fell onto her bed, Tem understood exactly how much Leo wanted her. His hands were all over her body—greedy and insistent—yanking her underclothing off with unapologetic urgency. Tem lost herself in his grip, savoring the way he wanted her— needed her—and the way she wanted him in return. The moment they were both naked, they gasped together as skin met skin for the first time. Tem’s hand slid between Leo’s legs just as his hand slid between hers, and she let out a yelp as he pinched her clitoris.

“ Leo .”

She saw his smirk even in the dark.

“Tem,” his voice was a barely restrained growl. “Don’t expect me to be gentle when you’ve made me wait this long.”

Tem decided not to make him wait any longer.

She wrapped her fingers around his cock—the second cock she’d ever felt—and began to stroke.

Leo sucked a tight breath between his teeth.

“ Fuck, Tem.”

Tem smiled.

Leo’s cock was the perfect extension of him—long and proud and regal— yet another embodiment of his unchecked ego. Tem understood why he conducted himself the way he did—why he felt the need to answer to no one—why he moved through the world with such careless arrogance. She felt an undeniable surge of power with her fingers wrapped around his shaft. It was a privilege Tem couldn’t have comprehended before this very moment, and one she didn’t intend on wasting.

“Do you like that?” she whispered.

In response, Leo slipped his fingers inside her.

Nobody had ever touched her that way but Caspen.But her body knew what to do, and Tem knew to let it.Caspen’s words came suddenly back to her:

He has had anyone he wanted his entire life. So he is familiar with a woman’s body.

Leo was familiar indeed. He knew exactly how to touch her. He knew how to play with her clitoris, he knew how to stroke that channel inside her that made her burn with need. Tem couldn’t pretend she hadn’t imagined this. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t looked at his nimble, beautiful fingers and imagined how they would feel caressing the most sensitive part of her. All her imagining couldn’t have prepared her for how it felt in real life. He was breathtakingly intuitive—changing his rhythm based on the sounds she made—applying pressure exactly where and when she wanted it. He was listening to her, and she wasn’t even talking.

They moved in tandem: her hand between his legs, and his hand between hers. Their breathing was synced, their cadences aligned. It was so easy to touch him. Caspen had taught her what to do, after all. Tem knew how to tease a man—how to make Leo groan , and how to make him like it. He touched her too, coaxing something from her that she couldn’t resist, forcing her to acknowledge that he could, perhaps, be right for her.

They were moving quickly now, every inch of Leo pressing against every inch of her, the friction of their skin sending Tem straight into a desperate frenzy. She felt like an animal in heat.

Her lips were on his neck.

“Leo,” she whispered. He was holding her together and pulling her apart.

“Ask for it, Tem,” he ordered.

“Now,” she whimpered in his ear. “Please, Leo. Right now.”

Leo obeyed immediately. Without another word he grabbed her hips and centered himself, looking down at her for a single, silent moment. Tem looked back, spreading her legs, holding herself open just for him. She noticed the way his pulse beat in his temple—his expression a wild cross between fierce desire and deep satisfaction—reveling in his victory, even now. He angled his hips, and she did too.

The moment his cock touched her, Tem’s mind erupted in agony.

It was as if someone were splitting her head in two with a blunt ax. The sensation was so strong that she screamed, lurching away from Leo and curling herself into a ball.

“Tem? What is it? Tem! ”

But Tem couldn’t answer. There were no words to describe the torture overtaking her mind. She felt nothing but torment, heard nothing but a single, anguished cry, repeated over and over into eternity, never-ending, as bottomless as the ocean. It was indescribable pain, and she didn’t even know whether it was hers.

“Tem,” Leo touched her shoulder. The pain worsened.

“Caspen,” it was all she could manage to say.“He’s here.”

“Where?” Leo asked, bewildered.

Tem pointed at her head. The pain was growing, shutting everything else out.

“He’s in your mind? ”

But Tem couldn’t reply. The pain was too excruciating for her to form a single thought. Her head was a maelstrom of grief, anger, and bitter jealousy, each emotion so strong she felt as if she were being run through with a knife.

“Tem, look at me. Tem! ”

Leo was calling her. He was calling her, and she couldn’t answer.

Her head was filled with a montage of her time with Caspen. She saw the moment they met in the cave, when she asked him to undress. There was their first kiss, from his perspective, as he wove his fingers into her hair and pulled her against his lips. She saw the time he almost transitioned. She saw him heal her after Jonathan. She watched as they fucked in his chambers for the first time, wild and desperate, two people who could finally be together without restraint. How long have you loved me? she’d whispered just last night. Far longer than you have loved me, he’d whispered back.Tem couldn’t take any more.She could barely breathe. But she drew on every ounce of strength she had left to send a single word down the fractured corridor of their minds:

Stop.

As suddenly as the pain had come, it was gone.The pressure on her head finally released as their connection broke, shattering into a thousand shards of glass. Tem gasped in equal parts shock and relief, the sudden absence of agony nearly agony in itself.

“Tem? Tem. ”

Leo was still saying her name. She had no idea how much time had passed—no idea what she had screamed while Caspen was in her head. She looked up into his terrified eyes.

“Leo,” she whispered.

“I’m here,” he held her face in his palms. “What can I do?”

But Tem couldn’t speak. Instead, she began to cry.

Leo pulled her tightly into his arms as her shoulders shook. She sobbed against his skin, not bothering to hold back her tears, not bothering to pretend she didn’t feel every ounce of despair that Caspen felt.She was so tired of him shutting her out—of only letting her in when it was convenient for him—of making her feel like she was under his control. Tem wanted to think for herself, act for herself. How could she have a say in her future when she couldn’t even accept her own propos?al? Nothing was simple with Caspen; nothing was straightforward. It never had been. She resented him for driving her into Leo’s arms, and she hated how much solace she had found in them.

Eventually, her sobs ceased.

They lay quietly, Tem’s head resting on Leo’s bare chest, his arms wrapped around her, their legs intertwined. Leo drew gentle shapes on her skin, his fingers brushing up and down her arm in slow, comforting strokes.Every few minutes, he kissed her on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry, Leo,” Tem whispered eventually. Her voice was hoarse.

His fingers stopped.

“For what?”

“That we didn’t…that I couldn’t…”

He shook his head, his fingers resuming their journey.

“I don’t mind, Tem,” he said quietly. “I’ll take what I can get.”

His words gutted her. They hurt even more coming from Leo, who somehow always had to take what he could get when it came to Tem. He received what attention she could spare; he took what affection she would give him. Leo never got all of her, and he never complained.He took what he could get, even when it was never enough.It was yet another reminder to Tem that giving half of herself to two people wasn’t sustainable. Something would have to break. She hoped it wouldn’t be her.

“It may happen again,” she said.

Leo shrugged. “If it does, we will deal with it.”

Tem noticed his use of the word we , as if they were in this together. Maybe they were.

Another minute passed before Leo asked:

“How can he be in your mind?”

She heard the hesitant curiosity in his voice, and remembered that up until tonight, Leo didn’t know about her mental tie to the basilisk.

“I don’t know, exactly,” she answered truthfully.

“But he…can speak to you?”

“Yes.”

“And what did he say?”

“Which time?”

Leo’s fingers stopped again. Tem realized too late that he’d assumed Caspen had infiltrated her mind for the first time a moment ago.

“He has spoken to you multiple times,” Leo said.

It wasn’t a question. There was no point in denying it.

“Yes.”

“You…maintain a connection with him?”

His shock was obvious. Tem fought to deescalate the situation:

“ He maintains a connection with me.”

It was the truth. Or at least, part of it. It was true that Tem savored their bond, but Caspen was the one who controlled it.

Leo’s grip was tightening around her.

“And what, exactly , is the nature of your connection?”

Tem had no idea what to say. No answer would satisfy Leo: no explanation would make this situation acceptable to him. How could she possibly tell him the extent of her mental bond with Caspen? How could she tell him that they had sex through that connection—that Caspen would turn her on and she would do the same—that they had brought each other to orgasm more times than she could count? It was incomprehensible, even to Tem.

“He speaks to me…and I…answer.”

“I see,” said Leo quietly. “He speaks. And you answer.”

His voice was steady. But Tem knew they were in very dangerous, very uncharted territory. She held her breath as he said:

“How often does this occur?”

“It’s…not consistent. I can’t predict it.”

“And what did he say to you tonight?”

Another question she wished he hadn’t asked. She couldn’t tell Leo how Caspen felt—how their entire relationship had flashed before her eyes in an avalanche of aching torment.

“He didn’t say anything, really. He just…” Tem broke off, trying to put the experience into words. “He’s jealous,” she finished simply.

“Well,” Leo murmured, and to her surprise, his tone softened. “We can hardly blame him for that.”

Tem wanted to say something else. To apologize again. But she knew it would?n’t make a difference. Instead, she tilted her head and kissed Leo on the lips. He kissed her back, and for a moment, Tem felt peace. They didn’t try to have sex again. They simply kissed, slowly, their bodies intertwining under the covers. Tem was still terrified Caspen might return, and she knew Leo must be too.

They kissed until Tem was too tired to kiss anymore. When they stopped, Leo simply held her, cradling her body against his. She fell asleep with her head tucked underneath his chin.

When Tem awoke, her legs were tangled in Leo’s. He was still asleep, his arms wrapped securely around her. When she tried to lift her head, she immediately regretted it; she had a headache so severe that she doubted it was just from the alcohol—it had to be an aftereffect of Caspen’s infiltration.

At her movement, Leo’s eyes opened.

Without a word, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Their bodies merged even closer, their skin still warm from sleep. Eventually Leo slipped his hand between her legs. What he was doing felt so good it took everything Tem had to whisper:

“We can’t, Leo. My mother.”

“Is tending to a child in the village.”

“Will be returning any moment.”

“We’ll make it quick.”

“I don’t want it to be quick.”

Leo laughed softly at that. “Good to know.”

He was still touching her.

“Leo,” she said gently. “Stop.”

He stopped.

They stared at each other in the dim morning light. Even though Tem had just denied him, Leo looked irrefutably happy.

“What are you smiling at?” she asked.

His smile widened.

“I’m glad you changed your mind.”

“Even though…?”

She couldn’t say the words. The night had been an utter disaster, all things considered. Caspen’s presence hung between them like an unspoken curse, and Tem doubted very much that Leo’s experience with any of the other girls in the competition had gone at all the way this one had.

Leo shrugged. “A small price to pay for your company.”

But Tem would not be convinced.

“I can’t control it, Leo.”

He looked her right in the eye.

“I understand, Tem.”

It was all he said.But it was enough for now.

They dressed in silence, stealing glances at each other before leaving the cottage. When they reached the garden gate, Tem turned to face him.

“Well,” she said. “I’ll see you soon.”

“That you shall.”

There was so much more she wanted to say. But the words wouldn’t come.

Tem turned away.

“Wait—” Leo grabbed her hand. “Would you do something for me?”

She looked back at him.

“What?”

His hand tightened in hers.

“Hold onto it.”

“Hold onto what?”

“Whatever it was that made you change your mind last night. Just…try to hold onto it. Please?”

They stared at each other, and in that moment Tem realized how much last night had truly meant to Leo—how deeply and desperately he wanted to be with her—how badly he hoped what little progress they’d made wasn’t ruined by her lingering connection with Caspen. Tem wanted to reassure him, but she didn’t want to lie. So she simply nodded instead.

“I’ll try.”

Leo nodded too. Then he dropped her hand, turned, and disappeared down the street.

Tem stood as if in a trance. It had been one of the most formative nights of her life. Not only was her relationship with Caspen hanging in the balance, but sudden?l?y, Leo had stepped up in a way she’d never thought possible. I know what it is to have an occupied heart , Leo had said. It was horrible, is what it was. Tem did not want to feel this way for two people—did not want to split herself in two.

Her mother appeared on the garden path.

“My dear,” she said. “How are you?”

What a question.

There was no way to answer it. In response, Tem merely shrugged. They returned to the kitchen together, and her mother held up the half empty liquor bottle.

“Really, Tem?”

“It wasn’t just me,” Tem said quickly.

“That infernal boy,” her mother muttered, and Tem knew she would assume it had been Gabriel. There was no point in correcting her.

Tem tried to busy herself with farm work but the chickens provided no distraction whatsoever. She could think only of the way Leo’s hands had felt on her body—of how he’d been able to ignite something in her that she once thought only Caspen could ignite. Tem had no choice but to comprehend the most fundamental thing that now rang true: her heart was in two places, and things would not be easy for her.

Leo.

And Caspen.

She loved them both.

It shouldn’t have come as a shock to her—too many things had brought her gradually to this conclusion to make it any sort of a surprise. Still, she marveled at how she could feel such a draw to them both: how she could want two people in the same way: a way that was guttural and raw and real.

She was engaged to Caspen. Or nearly so. And one day—depending on factors well outside her control—she might be engaged to Leo too. Tem could imagine it now: walking down the aisle in a white dress, pledging herself to the human prince for the rest of their lives. It wouldn’t be difficult. It was merely an extension of everything she’d felt for him up until this point: a way to solidify their connection into something real—something tangible.

And yet.

Caspen was in her veins. He was in her blood, in her mind, in her soul. He was the breath in her lungs; he was her tether to life. Caspen was everything.

So why did he make her feel so empty?

Tem performed her morning chores dutifully before taking the usual basket of eggs to the bakery. By the time she got there, she was dreading what came next.

There was Vera, dressed in pink.

“ So , Tem?” she sneered, her heart-shaped face positively glowing with anticipation. Clearly she was no longer grieving Jonathan. “Who do you think the prince will take to the castle?”

Tem remembered the way the crowd had roared for Vera, and the way they had stood in silence for her. She knew Vera had savored every moment of Tem’s humiliation.

“I don’t know,” she said stiffly. “Whoever he wants, I suppose.”

“Yes, but—” Vera leaned forward, and Tem nearly choked on her perfume, “—who do you think he wants?”

Considering the way Leo had touched her last night, Tem had a fairly good idea who he wanted. But she couldn’t tell that to Vera.

“I’m sure he’ll consider what’s best for the kingdom,” she said carefully. “Not just what’s best for him.”

Vera’s smile widened.

“And who do you think is best for the kingdom?” she sneered.

Tem stared resolutely at the eggs. Not even a second passed before Vera barreled onward:

“His father spoke to me, you know.”

Tem’s eyes snapped up to hers.

“What?”

“The king— ” Vera savored the word as if it were chocolate, “—told me that I was his first choice.”

“That choice— ” Tem said with equal emphasis, “—is for the prince to make. Not the king.”

“Perhaps,” Vera shrugged. “But surely the prince will take his father’s opinion into account.”

Maximus’s words came back to her suddenly: I will take away your title before I let you choose her. Tem hadn’t considered he might truly be serious. It would be a scandal of the utmost caliber if Maximus were to interfere with the elimination process. It would undermine the facade of control he fought so hard to preserve.

Vera was still talking:

“After all, a father knows what’s best for his children,” her eyes narrowed, and her mouth twisted cruelly. “Not that you would understand, Tem.”

Her words were a white-hot knife in Tem’s gut. It was a low blow, even for Vera.

But Tem understood that Vera was angry. She had seen how Leo had kissed her, and despite the crowd—and apparently the king’s—approval, Vera felt threatened.

The thought was oddly empowering.

“I’ll take these now,” Vera said cheerfully, snatching the eggs from Tem’s hands. She flounced off in a wave of perfume, leaving Tem to stew over what had just happened. When she returned with payment, Tem took it and left without another word. Their conversation played over and over in her mind on the way home.

What if Vera was right? What if Maximus had a say in who Leo chose? If that were true, Tem had no chance with the prince at all—a prospect she had no idea how to process. No matter what happened during the competition, Tem had always assumed Leo would be the one to make his own choice. But what if this decision—the most important one of his life—was made by his father? It didn’t seem remotely fair.

Tem worried for the rest of the day. Eventually, it was nighttime.

By the time she reached the base of the mountain, her skin was covered in a cold sweat. Tem was just as nervous as the very first time she’d gone to the caves, if not more so. It felt as if her entire body were on edge—like every cell was pricked with bated anticipation.

When she reached Caspen’s cave, she paused.

Beyond the all-encompassing darkness was her future—her husband —if his quiver allowed it. That was no small thing to Tem. There was no part of this that she took lightly: no part of this that didn’t sway her to her very core. She touched her fingertips to the cold, rough stone, wondering what awaited within it. Would Caspen be angry with her for letting Leo stay the night? He had seen them togeth?er—naked and intertwined—in her bed. Would they talk about the pain Caspen had inflicted on her—the torture he had wrought in her mind? There was only one way to find out.

Tem stepped into the darkness.

Caspen was waiting for her, as he always was. He stood silently in the middle of the cave, and even now, his beauty took her breath away. The basilisk didn’t say a word. Instead he turned, and Tem followed him in silence to his chambers. It wasn’t until they were facing each other before the fire that Caspen finally spoke:

“I am sorry, Tem.”

Tem blinked. She hadn’t been expecting that.

“For what?”

Caspen let out a long breath. He stepped forward so they were mere inches apart.

“First and foremost, for hurting you last night. I am aware of your perception of our power dynamic, and I do not wish to reinforce that.”

Tem turned his words over in her mind. She noticed how he’d specified her perception of their power dynamic, as if her perception wasn’t correct. But it was. Caspen held the power. He always had. Before she could press the issue, he continued:

“I also wish to apologize for any confusion regarding my intentions.”

“Your…intentions?”

“I thought I had made my feelings for you clear. Apparently I had not.”

“Oh,” Tem said, because she had no idea what else to say.

Despite what he’d just said, Caspen didn’t actually proceed to make his feelings for her clear. He was always talking like this: saying things in a vague way, avoiding straightforward declarations. No doubt a habit honed from centuries of finding ways not to lie.

Tem would wait no longer.

“What are your feelings for me?”

Caspen sighed as if this was very difficult for him.

“I love you.”

His words should have been a soothing balm. Instead they were a cage—a trap that Tem would not fall for once again.

“I know you do,” she said firmly. “And it does not help me.”

She meant it. Nothing about Caspen’s feelings helped her—his love for her did not remedy her family’s reputation, his love for her did not solve her infatuation with Leo, his love for her did not ensure her future. Caspen’s love for her fixed exactly nothing, and Tem was utterly tired of that fact. She wanted to yell at him. Instead, she said:

“Things cannot go on as they have been.”

“I agree,” Caspen said quietly.

He raised his hand, brushing a single finger along her jaw. Despite herself, Tem leaned into his touch. Already, she could feel herself softening toward him. That was all it ever took with Caspen—a single touch, and she was his again.

But she would not be so easily seduced this time.

Too much had happened in the last twenty four hours—too much had changed. Tem was no longer the girl she used to be. There was no coming back from what had occurred between her and Leo: no undoing what had already been done. She was done taking ‘no’ for an answer—done playing by the rules of Caspen’s game.

Tem looked straight at him.

“I almost fucked Leo last night,” she said bluntly.

Caspen’s eyes narrowed.

“I am well aware of that, Tem.”

“So?” Tem insisted. “Are you going to do something about it?”

Caspen’s gaze bore into hers. He let out a dry laugh.

“No.”

She stared up at his infuriatingly perfect face.

“ No? ”

“If you think the human prince matters to me, then you are sorely mistaken.”

The human prince.

It was clear now.

Tem saw, finally, how Caspen viewed Leo: not as competition, but as nothing but a nuisance. Leo didn’t even rank in the grand scale of Caspen’s worries. What could a human prince do in the face of a basilisk one?

Perhaps the human prince did not sway Caspen. But he swayed Tem.

There was no denying it—no erasing their connection. Leo gave her something that Caspen could never provide: security. Leo wanted her. It was plain and it was simple and it was far easier than anything that might come from courting a basilisk. Why shouldn’t Tem go with the surefire option? Why shouldn’t Tem go where she was wanted?

“He may not matter to you,” she said quietly. “But he matters to me.”

At her words. Caspen stiffened.

“I see.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. For some reason Tem felt a flare of anger. Of course Leo meant something to her. Her relationship with Caspen was so nebulous—so fraught with strife—that he should not begrudge her this slight chance at happiness.

“Tem,” Caspen said quietly. “I do not blame you if you wish to seek solace elsewhere.”

He was clearly hurt. But for some reason, his words only made her angrier.

“I don’t want to seek solace elsewhere,” she snapped. “I want to seek solace with you .”

He shook his head.

“Perhaps I cannot provide it.”

“ Bullshit ,” Tem stepped forward, grabbing the chain around her neck. “Does this mean nothing to you?” she brandished the claw. “Is this a lie? ”

“Tem,” Caspen said quietly. “You do not understand what it will take for us to be together.”

“Because you won’t tell me.”

Caspen looked up at the ceiling.

“Because I would not have you do it.”

Here it was: the mysterious condition that his quiver required of her in order to accept their engagement. Tem couldn’t wait any longer to hear it. She grabbed Caspen by the neck, forcing him to look her in the eye.

“Why not?”

“It is unthinkable. And you would never consent to it. And even if you did consent to it, my quiver’s approval is not guaranteed.”

“What is it?”

“It is not worth discussing, Tem.”

“You mean I am not worth discussing.”

Caspen put his hand over hers, holding her against him.

“That is not what I mean.”

“It shouldn’t matter what other people think.”

“It does not matter. You are the only thing that matters to me.”

Tem looked straight at him.

“It doesn’t feel that way.”

Regret darkened Caspen’s eyes.

“Then I have failed you.”

She didn’t reply, because there was nothing to say. His words were not enough anymore. Tem knew how Caspen felt one day, and not the next. He was the one thing she truly couldn’t handle: inconsistent.

The fire crackled, and Tem resisted the urge to throw herself into it.

Caspen’s gaze fell to her lips.

“I am merely trying to protect you,” he whispered. “Basilisks do not respect humans. You are considered the enemy. By being with you, I betray my own kind.”

“But you said that it happens—that there are pairings of humans and basilisks.”

Caspen sighed. “Yes. There are.”

“Then how did they come to be?”

“Through great difficulty and sacrifice. Mostly on the side of the human.”

“What do you mean?”

Caspen was silent for a long time. Tem knew she only had to wait him out. She would not be dissuaded this time—she would find out exactly what it would take to be with him so she could make an informed decision about her future.

“There is a ritual,” Caspen said eventually.

“What kind of ritual?”

“One that would legitimize our engagement. But only if you can withstand it.”

“ Withstand it?”

“Yes.”

“You make it sound like an attack.”

“It may as well be one.”

“What is it?”

But he hesitated. It was clear this was difficult for him.

“Caspen,” Tem insisted. “Tell me.”

“I already told you it is not worth discussing.”

“Yet clearly I wish to discuss it.”

“Yet clearly I do not.”

“But why? ” Tem tried to pull her hand away, but Caspen tightened his grip.

“It would disrespect you,” he said.

“You’re being awfully vague.”

But Caspen only shook his head. At his reaction, Tem tried to pull away again. This time he grabbed her wrists and held her still.

“Tem,” he said, his voice low, his face centimeters from hers. “I am ashamed that my people allow this.”

“Allow what? ”

When he didn’t answer, she pushed him away, crossing her arms and staring into the fire. This was beyond infuriating. Her heart was pounding; her shoulders were tense. All she wanted was to run from this room. But more than that, she wanted Caspen to be transparent with her. And she knew it would only happen if she stayed. So Tem stood there, stubbornly, waiting him out.

Eventually, Caspen spoke.

“Basilisks are sexual creatures,” he said slowly.

“Yes,” Tem nodded. “Obviously.”

“The ritual is ancient,” he continued. “It is the one way humans can prove themselves to us, in the one language we understand.”

She turned to face him.

“But what does it entail?”

His next words were barely a murmur:

“Our culture revolves around our king.”

Again, he paused, and the fire crackled.

“ So? ” Tem insisted.

“So,” Caspen said, and she knew they were coming to the crux of the issue. “In order to earn my quiver’s favor, you would need to prove yourself to him.”

“And how would I prove myself to him?”

Caspen closed his eyes, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her.

“The same way you proved yourself to me.”

His words sank in slowly, then all at once.

Finally, Tem understood:

“I would have to have sex with your father? ”