Split or Swallow

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

“Tem,” he whispered.

The entire world went silent. Tem could hear nothing but her own heartbeat, which pounded like thunder in her chest.

“I know my time with you is somewhat borrowed,” Leo said quietly. “And I know that I will never have all of you. But Tem,” he paused, looking her right in the eye. “It is without ego that I say your presence in my life has changed me immeasurably. You are headstrong. And stubborn. And infuriatingly difficult to please.”

She smiled at that one. Leo continued:

“You are also courageous. And irresistible. And you invariably make me a better person, even when I struggle to return the favor. In short, you are too good for me. But I’m asking for you anyway.”

Tears were coming. She didn’t bother holding them back.

“I am greedy when it comes to you, Tem. I want every moment you’re willing to give me. Even if our marriage offers me nothing but the opportunity to humble myself before you, it would be worth it to spend what’s left of my life in your presence.”

He opened the box.

“Would you do me the honor of being my queen?”

They were beautiful words. And they were all for her.

Tem had only one word for him in return:

“Yes.”

A wide smile split Leo’s face, and he stood, drawing her into a deep kiss. Tem was floored by his vulnerability, and deeply touched by his proposal. He was signing up for a compromise—agreeing to a lifetime of sharing her. The sacrifice was not lost on her. It was the highest compliment she could be given. She only hoped she was worthy of it.

Leo took her hand and slid on the ring.

“It was my mother’s,” Leo offered. “We will get you a proper jewel, if you wish. But I didn’t want to propose with gold.”

Tem looked at her finger. The ring was polished silver, not unlike the ring she used to wear for special occasions. It was not flashy or excessive or boisterous. And it was not made from the blood of her people.

It was perfect.

Leo kissed her again, and for a moment, Tem allowed herself to be happy.

But soon, fear set in. The only thing she could think about was how scared she was for Leo—how deeply she wanted to protect him—how even though she knew his proposal was exactly what was needed to keep him safe, she was slowly crumbling beneath the pressure to do so.

“When will the wedding be?” she asked when they drew apart.

“My family has already arrived,” Leo answered. “And the ceremony has been planned for months. So whenever you wish.”

Tem nodded. Adelaide had said she had less than a week before the consequences of Caspen’s crest would take their toll. That meant they needed to get married in a matter of days. Tem wasn’t sure how to suggest this without sounding insane.

Before she could truly spiral, Leo spoke:

“The harvest moon is tomorrow.”

The harvest moon was the official marker of autumn, and would afford them ample moonlight in the early evening.

“You want to get married tomorrow?”

Leo only shrugged.

“Every day we wait is a day your father continues to suffer.”

Tem felt a sudden swell of tenderness for him. Leo had always known that the way to her heart was through the people she cared about. She thought of how willing he’d been to face Caspen—how immediately he’d considered her father’s wellbeing. But Leo thought their only problem was the bloodletting—that their timeline was influenced solely by Kronos.

He had no idea what was to come.

“Tomorrow it is.”

One glance at the sky told Tem it was nearly tomorrow already. They’d been at the caves for so long that the sun was already beginning to rise. Leo seemed to notice this at the same time she did.

“I’ll inform my father,” he said.

“Should I come with you?”

“No.”

Tem raised her eyebrows. He’d answered that awfully quickly. At the look on her face, Leo softened.

“He won’t be pleased, Tem. I’d rather you not hear what he has to say.”

Protecting her again.

Tem nodded, because it was just easier that way. She didn’t particularly want to hear what Maximus had to say either. She could only imagine the criticism he would impart on his son. No doubt it would only be worse if the object of his vitriol was present.

“I’m going to tell my mother,” she said.

Leo nodded. “I look forward to meeting her properly.”

Tem smiled, remembering the time he’d kissed her on the porch while her mother was in the kitchen.

They parted ways in the foyer, and Tem said a silent prayer for the prince as he disappeared behind the parlor doors. Part of her actually did want to see Maximus’s reaction when Leo told him he would be marrying Tem. But the other part of her was tired of the king’s cruelty, and she figured the crest was revenge enough.

Tem spent the long carriage ride to the village watching the sun rise. When she reached her cottage, it felt like an eternity had passed since she’d last been there. And yet, everything was just as she remembered it. The garden was slowly dying under the autumn chill. The front porch was still sloped. Everything was the way it had been for the past twenty years.

Everything except for Tem.

When she entered the kitchen, her mother looked up from the stove.

“The prince has proposed,” Tem said simply.

Her mother’s hand flew to her mouth.

“Oh, Tem ,” she cried, crossing the kitchen and gathering Tem into a tight embrace. Tem embraced her back.

“I have accepted,” she continued. “And the wedding is tonight.”

Her mother pulled away.

“Tonight? That’s…quite soon.”

“I know.”

“I’m afraid I will have nothing to wear.”

Tem waved her off.

“We’ll find you something.”

Her mother tilted her head.

“Is everything in order, my dear? You do not look…joyous.”

Tem didn’t feel joyous. She felt only deep, unseated anxiety. There were too many balls in the air—too many things that could go wrong.

“I’m just…in shock,” she said.

“But why? The prince has always favored you.”

As soon as she said it, Tem knew it was true. But that didn’t mean she was joyous. It only meant she felt guilty Leo had to share her.

“Tem,” her mother took her hands gently in hers. “Talk to me.”

She sighed. Why lie anymore?

“I love another,” Tem said simply.

Her mother’s eyebrows rose.

“Who?”

“Caspen.”

Her mother frowned. Tem knew she would recognize the distinctly basilisk name. She watched as the truth dawned in her eyes—as her mother realized that history had repeated itself.

“Foolish girl,” she whispered, looking down at Tem’s hands and running her thumbs over her freckles. “Just like your mother.”

You hold the stars in your hands. Just like your father.

Tem clasped their fingers together tightly.

“It is not foolish to fall in love, mother. I have been many things, but I’m not a fool. And neither were you.”

Pain flashed in her mother’s eyes.

She dropped Tem’s hands and crossed to the kitchen window.

“Perhaps you are right,” her mother sighed. It was a long moment before she turned back to Tem, asking:

“Why are you marrying the prince if you love another?”

“I love the prince too.”

Silence settled in the kitchen, broken only by the occasional crow of a rooster. Tem broke it:

“May I ask you something?”

“Of course, my dear.”

“Do you still love father?”

Her mother turned once more to the window. Morning sunshine dappled her face.

“Love is complicated. It never goes away, only changes.”

Tem had never heard her mother speak so vulnerably. She pictured her next to Kronos, wondering how they would look together. It seemed a simple thing for other children—to see their mother and father in the same room. For Tem, it would be a miracle.

“It is true that I left your father,” her mother continued quietly. “But it was not what either of us wanted.”

Tem nodded, thinking of how her father had likely belonged to the Senecas—how that quiver wasn’t open-minded about courtships between humans and basilisks. Tem had never considered the ritual she’d endured a blessing. But now she realized she was lucky it had even been offered as an option. If Caspen’s quiver hadn’t allowed her to prove herself, their relationship would have suffered—maybe even ended—just like her mother’s did.

She thought of how her mother had prepared her for her first night in the caves—how she’d rubbed the special oils on her thighs. At the time, Tem thought she’d need courage to have her first kiss. But perhaps her mother had wanted her to be brave in another way: brave enough to ask for what she wanted, and to settle for nothing less. Brave enough to fight for those she loved. Brave enough to do what she hadn’t.

Her mother continued quietly:

“Your father said he would still visit me, but he did not. I assumed he had chosen another.”

How wrong her mother was.

“Mother,” Tem said, and she knew what came next would change her world forever. “I met him.”

A curious expression passed over her mother’s face—one of absolute hope.

“How can that be?”

Tem had to remember that her mother wasn’t connected to the basilisk world anymore. She had no concept of anything that had happened since she’d parted ways with Tem’s father. She didn’t know about the bloodletting, about Bastian’s plan to seize power . Tem couldn’t fathom explaining everything that had happened. Instead she said:

“He was captured and imprisoned by the royals. They’re keeping him at the castle.”

Her mother’s face went slack with shock.

“He’s been imprisoned?”

“Yes. He’s…weak. But alive. The prince plans on freeing him.”

“So he…”

Her mother didn’t finish her sentence. Tem finished it for her:

“He did not choose another.”

It was a curious thing to watch her mother experience joy. It wasn’t something Tem saw often. They lived a hard life on the farm, after all. Joy reared its head rarely—on holidays, or when they exchanged gifts on birthdays. But it was fleeting—circumstantial. What she saw now was true, unencumbered happiness, mixed with deep relief. Tem couldn’t help but smile.

Love is complicated. It never goes away, only changes.

“My dear, I…must know more.”

They sat at the kitchen table. Tem told her more.

She told her what had happened since the first night in the caves—how serious things had gotten with Caspen, and also with Leo. Her mother listened, and told stories of her own.

They sat in solidarity, mother and daughter, sharing pieces of their lives with one another.

Eventually, it was time for Tem to say goodbye to her childhood home.

She sat on her bed and looked up at the ceiling. She smelled the bottle of salt spray on her mother’s dresser. And she walked through the chicken coop one last time, reveling in the fact that she may never hear a rooster crow again.

Then she and her mother stepped into the carriage and drove away.

By the time they reached the castle, wedding preparations were well underway. Even for a well-oiled machine like the royal staff, setting up a wedding in one day was a tall order. Tem and her mother dodged servant after servant on their way into the castle, finally managing to flag down a maid in the foyer.

“This is my mother,” Tem said. “Can you find her a seamstress? She needs a dress for this evening.”

“Of course,” the maid said. “And when would you like to do your fitting?”

Tem paused. She’d completely forgotten that she needed a dress too. She was the bride, after all.

“Later,” she said. “Have someone send for me.”

She gave her mother’s hand one final squeeze before ascending the steps to Leo’s bedroom. He wasn’t inside: perhaps his discussion with Maximus was still ongoing. Tem walked around his bed, looking at his books the same way she had when she’d first come here. There was The Raven and the Swan . Tem smiled at the memory of Leo reading it to her.

Something occurred to her suddenly.

The wedding would be dangerous. Not just for Tem, but for Leo. He was human, and he was the only son of the king. There was a target on his back. Rowe had tried to crest Tem. It was only a matter of time before he—or any of the other basilisks—did the same to Leo. Tem’s bargain with Bastian had spared Leo’s life—nothing more. She hadn’t thought to add a stipulation that nobody could crest him. Tem would have to protect him the same way Caspen protected her. She would give him her venom—she would claim him. There was only one problem.

Tem had no idea how to produce venom.

She’d only watched Caspen do it once—and she’d been mid-orgasm, so she hadn’t exactly been paying attention. Besides, she had no idea if her basilisk side was even strong enough to produce venom anymore.

It didn’t matter. She would have to try.

Tem did her best to imitate what Caspen had done, focusing on her neck and tensing the muscles just below her ears where she assumed the venom glands were. At first, nothing happened, and doubt cut through her. Then a shooting heat erupted in her throat, and she lurched toward the bar to spit into an empty whiskey glass.

Her venom was dark—practically black. Tem stared at it in bewilderment, wondering how she was going to get Leo to drink such a distinctive substance without him noticing. Even if he didn’t see it, she was sure he would taste it. Caspen’s had tasted like smoke—hers was distinctly woodsy in flavor.

But what if there was another way? What if she simply asked him to drink it? Caspen had given her his venom without asking. Was Tem really going to do the same thing to Leo?

At that exact moment, Leo walked in.

Tem looked up at him, still holding the glass.

“How did it go?” she asked.

Leo gave her a tired smile. “How do you think it went?”

“Are we still getting married?”

His smile turned into a real one.

“Tem,” he crossed to her. “I’d have to be dead in order for us not to.”

Tem smiled too. Then she handed him the glass.

“Drink this.”

Leo cocked an incredulous eyebrow at the black substance, holding it up to the light.

“What is it?”

“It’s my venom.”

Leo blinked. “Your…venom.”

“Yes.”

“And what is it doing in my nicest whiskey glass?”

“I already told you. I need you to drink it.”

“Yes, you mentioned that. But you didn’t mention why.”

“It will protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

“Oh, for Kora’s sake , Leo. Will you just drink it, please? You wouldn’t believe me anyway. I just need you to trust me.”

The words came out harsher than she’d intended. Leo’s eyebrows rose even more at her tone. He looked at her for a long moment, considering something. Then:

“Very well,” he said quietly.

Without another word, he drank. The moment her venom disappeared down his throat Tem felt unmistakable relief. Leo was safe. Nobody could crest him. He would never be controlled by Bastian, or any other basilisk.

Tem felt something else too. It was as if an invisible bridge had grown between them—a passage connecting her to him. It wasn’t quite like the corridor she shared in her mind with Caspen. But it was an inarguable thread that was as real as a physical sensation. She wondered if Leo felt it too.

Tem stood on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you.”

Leo smiled beneath her lips.

“Anything for you, Tem.”

His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a proper kiss. She could taste her venom on his tongue. Smoky, like Caspen’s, only sweeter. When the kiss deepened, she let it. But when Leo pulled her toward the bed, she stopped him.

“I need to get to my dress fitting, Leo.”

“No you don’t. You need to kiss me.”

“I’m the bride, remember?”

“We’ll get married naked. It’ll be delightful. The guests will love it.”

“ Leo .”

“ Tem ,” he groaned, throwing his head back. “What’s the point of marrying you if I can’t fuck you whenever I want?”

“Some would say love.”

“Ah, yes,” he smiled. “That.”

The smile faded, and Leo became serious. He traced a finger up her neck, tilting her face to his.

“You know I love you, don’t you, Tem?”

He didn’t need to tell her; Tem knew it from his actions. She saw Leo’s love for her in every glance, felt it in every touch. Even when they were fighting, she knew he loved her. He always had.

“I know, Leo.”

Tem realized suddenly that the only time she’d said she loved Leo was in front of Caspen. I love you both . Even that, Leo had to share.

Tem whispered her next question, genuinely wondering the answer:

“Do you know I love you too?”

If Leo looked happy before, he was positively euphoric now.

“Yes, Tem,” his arm tightened around her. “I know that. But I am certainly glad to hear it.”

There was a sharp knock on the door.

Leo groaned again, and Tem laughed at his constant unwillingness to be interrupted. The door opened to reveal the same maid from before.

“Temperance?” she asked. “It’s time for your dress fitting.”

The rest of the day was a whirlwind.

A fleet of maids ushered Tem from one event to the next in a blur of pearls and tulle. There was not one but three dresses to be chosen, along with cake samples, champagne (which she gave to the maids to taste), and flower arrangements. A harpist sampled a song for their first dance as husband and wife.

Tem barely registered any of it.

Her mind was spinning with worry—with fear . She felt slightly better now that she’d claimed Leo. But beyond that, she had no guarantees that anything would go well. Soon the basilisks would be here, at the castle, and they would be angry. They were ready for war—a war that was completely up to Tem to prevent. Caspen was right: she was unprepared. At this point, she didn’t even know if she could perform the crest . Perhaps too much of her basilisk side was already dead. Perhaps it was too late.

But there was nothing Tem could do about it now.

There was no time to prepare—no time to change course. She would simply have to do her best, and pray that it was enough. She had always excelled under pressure—always risen to the occasion when the situation demanded it. Now she was demanding it of herself, and Tem refused to fall short of what she knew she was capable of.

At last, it was evening.

Tem donned the first of her three dresses—white, made of beaded silk—before joining Leo in the ballroom.

“Flawless,” he said as he kissed her hand. “As always.”

Tem smiled.

“Finally, a real compliment,” she said.

Leo grinned. He looked flawless too. He was wearing a dark green suit, his blonde hair slicked back to accentuate his sharp cheekbones. For some reason he seemed taller than usual, and Tem wondered if his newfound confidence was due to the fact that in a few short hours, Maximus would crown him king. Any son—especially one who had been through what Leo had—would feel triumphant.

“We will be married in the maze,” Leo told her as they descended the patio steps together, joining the throngs of people on the grounds. “There is a clearing in the middle. My family uses it for all royal weddings.”

Tem nodded, although she wasn’t listening.

She was observing the guests with hyper vigilance, scanning them quickly to see if Caspen was here yet. Or Bastian.

Tem didn’t know for sure whether the king would attend. She’d never been to a royal wedding, after all. But she was quite positive that all the basilisks who’d been involved in the training would be in attendance, and that meant Rowe would be here. The thought made her exceedingly anxious, and her grip tightened on Leo’s arm.

“I’ve got you, Tem,” he murmured in her ear. She nodded, but didn’t reply. Leo could do nothing to save her if something went wrong. Tem was the one responsible for protecting Leo, not the other way around.

They rounded corner after corner as the sun began to set.

“There will be a cocktail hour,” Leo said. “And then the ceremony. Afterward, dinner will be served.”

Tem nodded again. They had arrived at the center of the maze, and for a moment, she forgot her worries. The clearing was impeccably decorated: candles twinkled on the tables, interspersed with the floral arrangements she’d approved mere hours ago. The harpist was playing a sweeping, melodic tune. At the far end of the clearing were rows of golden chairs, all facing a stage where an enormous arch was sheathed in white roses.

No basilisks yet.

As if Leo could read her mind, he leaned in and said:

“They should arrive soon.”

Suddenly, Gabriel appeared.

He bounded over to them eagerly, grabbing Tem’s hand and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“My blushing bride,” he crooned. “Congratulations to the happy couple.”

Tem smiled, and Leo did too. Gabriel winked at him.

“Your Highness.”

“How many times must I tell you to call me Leo?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I prefer your Highness. I’ve got a thing for authority figures. Now—” he cocked his head at both of them, “—I believe there was talk of me being the best man?”

Before they could reply, one of the kitchen staff waved him down, and Gabriel spun away.

“He’s really something,” Leo said.

“Something wonderful.”

“He certainly is.”

Tem felt a sudden rush of love for Gabriel. He was her greatest support system—her dearest friend. He never doubted her, and he reprimanded her when she doubted herself. He’d always encouraged her, long before Caspen ever did. It was because of people like him—the people she loved—that Tem would not fail tonight. She would protect the ones who had always protected her.

“Tem,” Leo murmured, breaking her from her thoughts. He pointed to the far end of the clearing. “They’re here.”

Tem followed his gaze.

At last, the basilisks had arrived.