Split or Swallow

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

They walked in a somber line led by Bastian, whose face bore an expression of utter disgust. Clearly he was done hiding his disdain for the royals. Tem couldn’t exactly blame him. Behind Bastian was Caspen, and Tem’s heart jumped into her throat at the sight of him. He didn’t look well. The part of Tem that was dying was clearly affecting him—his face was even more angular than the last time she saw him, his cheeks hollow. He was diminishing. And it was all her fault.

Beside her, Leo tightened his grip, nodding at Bastian.

“That’s their king.”

“I know,” Tem said.

Leo raised an eyebrow, and she remembered that he knew nothing of her time under the mountain.

“He’s Caspen’s father,” she explained.

“I see,” Leo said quietly. “Have you met him?”

The ritual flashed through her mind.

“Yes.”

Tem didn’t elaborate, and Leo didn’t ask her to. Instead she asked him something in return:

“Have you met him?”

“My father has. They speak occasionally to ensure the treaty is upheld.”

Bastian’s gaze fell onto Tem.

A chill shot down her spine as he began to walk toward her.

“Leo,” she said immediately. “Can you get me a drink?”

But Leo was watching Bastian too, his eyes narrowed.

“No,” he said simply.

This was not the time for Leo to be brave. Tem didn’t want him anywhere near Bastian—especially when the king knew exactly how much the human prince meant to her.

“Leo,” she said again, turning to face him. “Leave. Right now.”

He opened his mouth to protest.

“ Go, Leo. You’re in danger if you stay.”

Still, he hesitated. Bastian was getting closer.

Leo stood his ground.

“If I’m in danger, so are you.”

Tem shook her head.

“I’ll be fine. You have to trust me.”

Leo’s mouth was tight with worry.

“That’s not good enough.”

“Caspen will protect me.”

Sharp jealousy darkened Leo’s face. Tem watched as it turned slowly to bitter resolve. They both knew he had signed up for this—that he had agreed to share her. Situations just like this were part of that agreement.

After an eternal moment, Leo bowed his head.

“Very well.”

Then he turned and was gone.

A moment later, Bastian was in front of her.

“Temperance,” he said smoothly, eyeing her up and down. “It would appear you have an entourage.”

Tem’s eyes slid to Caspen, who was standing at the edge of the clearing, watching them. Tem didn’t need to turn around to know that Leo was watching them too.

“I’m a lucky girl.”

“Apparently.”

There was a silence, and Tem dearly wished Leo had gotten her that drink. It was difficult not to feel nervous when Bastian was looking at her as if she were his next meal. It was not unlike the way he’d looked at her during the ritual.

“Congratulations on your nuptials,” the king offered.

“Thanks.”

A pause. The wedding guests milled around them. Then Bastian asked:

“Are you ready to perform the crest? ”

Tem didn’t know how to answer him. She settled on:

“As ready as I can be.”

Bastian nodded.

“I hope you succeed.”

Somehow it sounded like a threat.

“Do you?”

A cruel smile slowly twisted Bastian’s face. At the sight, Tem felt rather ill.

“Of course,” he said with feigned nonchalance. “Why would I not?”

“Because it wouldn’t benefit you.”

The moment the words slipped out, Tem realized they were true. To her surprise, Bastian let out a low chuckle.

“I do not do anything that does not benefit me, Temperance.”

Tem frowned, unable to stop her train of thought.

If she successfully performed the crest , it would give her an indescribable amount of power—far more power than Bastian possessed. It was not an ideal situation for someone who wanted to retain control over the quivers. Tem couldn’t imagine a world in which the Serpent King would allow someone like her to surpass him. She voiced her realization out loud:

“Once I perform the crest , I’ll be more powerful than you,” she said.

Bastian tilted his head.

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“How fascinating. I did not realize you coveted power so.”

Something was brewing within Tem—an epiphany she didn’t want to face.

“I don’t,” she said slowly. “But you do.”

The king raised a single, thick eyebrow.

“Is that so?” he said again.

She crossed her arms, focusing on Bastian’s face and blocking out the rest of the wedding.

“Why would you let me become more powerful than you?”

Bastian’s eyes narrowed.

“Are you accusing me of something, Temperance?”

Malice bit into his voice, and the chill from earlier returned to Tem’s spine. He was testing her—seeing whether she’d challenge him. As it so happened, Tem was in a challenging mood.

“You don’t do anything that doesn’t benefit you. You said so yourself. So why do this?”

The cool stone of Bastian’s face hardened.

“Those who have no experience with power do not deserve to wield it. Would you not agree?”

The words of her father came to her suddenly:

Power corrupts.

“No,” Tem said, jutting her chin. “Those who deserve to wield power are the ones who will not be corrupted by it.”

Bastian snorted.

“That is the opinion of a child. Corruption is merely the other half of the coin. It is inevitable. War is inevitable.”

“No. It isn’t.”

“Ah,” the king said. “But it is.”

Tem shook her head. She thought of the conversation she’d just witnessed between Caspen and Leo—how the two men had been willing to put aside their differences for the greater good.

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” she said. “There can be peace.”

“Perhaps,” mused Bastian. “But why risk it?”

“What are you saying?” Tem whispered.

Bastian smiled at her—a cold, calculating smile.

“I am saying that we cannot always get what we want, now can we?”

The same thing Caspen had said when she’d asked him to spare Jonathan’s life.

Like father, like son.

In the following silence, Tem’s heartbeat pounded in her chest. Bastian stepped closer, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Caspen step closer too.

“So, Temperance,” he said quietly. “Why don’t you tell me why I would let you become so powerful.”

Tem’s palms were beginning to sweat.

Bastian wanted war. He coveted war. The Serpent King had held power for too long, and he was not willing to relinquish it. There was no scenario in which this wedding ended with peace. Tem saw that now. The council meeting was simply a way to get the Senecas to fall in line—to get her to fall in line.

It was crystal clear to her.

Tem realized finally what the crest really was: a ruse. A false promise—a lie. Of course it was too good to be true. Of course there would be no peace. The crest did benefit Bastian after all. It was true that it would make Tem more powerful than him. But that was exactly what the king wanted. She was merely a tool—a vessel through which Bastian could ultimately take that power for himself. Caspen’s words came back to her suddenly:

“He is the only basilisk with enough power to crest anyone he wants.”

The inevitable truth dawned.

“You plan to crest me,” Tem whispered.

A slow, sick smile twisted Bastian’s lips.

“Clever girl,” he said quietly.

Her eyes flicked to Caspen’s. The question she’d asked him so long ago rushed suddenly through her mind:

“What happens to a basilisk when they’re crested?”

“They die.”

Tem looked back at the king.

“If you crest me, my basilisk side will die.”

“Yes,” the king replied calmly. “It will.”

Little did Bastian know it was dying already. Tem grabbed the golden charm around her neck, brandishing it between them.

“My engagement to Caspen is bound by blood,” she said. “His life is linked to mine.”

“Yes,” the king said again, just as calmly. “It is.”

She stared at him in disbelieving epiphany.

“You would sacrifice your own son? ”

Bastian’s nostrils flared.

“My son— ” he hissed, and Tem recoiled at the vitriol in his voice, “—makes irrational decisions. My son is ruled by his emotions. My son —” he leaned in, and the temperature between them rose, “—is clearly not ready to be king. And you, Temperance, are certainly no queen.”

The words were eerily similar to the ones Maximus had said about Leo. Two fathers. Two kings. Both with no faith in their sons. Tem had always known that Bastian was ruthless—that all basilisks were capable of cruelty. But this was despicable.

“And if I refuse?” Tem straightened. “If I don’t perform the crest? ”

It wasn’t even an option. But she had to say it.

Bastian’s cold smile returned. He pointed a single finger over her shoulder. Tem turned to see Leo, who was leaning against a statue, watching them.

“We had a deal, remember?” he murmured in her ear. “You perform the crest . I spare the human prince and his sister.”

“I don’t trust you anymore,” she snapped. “How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

Bastian’s voice dropped even lower, sending a chill down her spine. “Because otherwise, his death is guaranteed. Are you willing to take that risk?”

Tem knew the answer, even if she didn’t like it. She already had too many deaths on her hands; her fingers may as well be dripping with blood. She would do anything for the chance to spare Leo. And Bastian knew it.

But Tem no longer believed that Bastian would keep Leo and Lilly safe. Their deal meant nothing; any promise of peace was a false one. It didn’t matter that Tem was marrying Leo to bring their two worlds together—it didn’t matter that Caspen and Leo wanted a different future for the kingdom. Nobody would be spared from the wrath of the Serpent King. The crest was supposed to save them all. And now? Bastian was forcing her to choose between Caspen and Leo. If she performed the crest , she lost Caspen. If she didn’t, she lost Leo. It was an inconceivable choice, and one that was pointless. No matter what she chose, Caspen’s death was all but guaranteed.

Tem could see no way out—no solution to this terrifying problem.

“There has to be another way,” she said desperately.

Bastian let out a humorless chuckle.

“The time for negotiation has passed, Temperance.”

He took a step back, appraising her.

“ Crest the royals as soon as the ceremony is over,” he said, his voice like silk. “Or accept the consequences.”

Then he was gone.

Tem stood there, completely numb, her mind racing. Before she could even blink, a hand was on her back.

“Tem,” Caspen’s voice broke her from her trance. “What did my father say?”

What indeed.

Tem looked up into the golden pools of Caspen’s eyes, wanting nothing more than to lose herself within them.

“Tem,” he insisted. “Tell me.”

Just when she opened her mouth to speak, Leo appeared.

“Tem,” he said. “Is everything in order?”

Caspen’s eyes flicked to Leo’s before returning to Tem’s. For a moment, nobody said anything. Tem was deeply aware of how odd they must look—the prince, his future wife, and the basilisk—standing at the edge of the maze.

She turned to Leo.

“I’m fine.”

She turned to Caspen. It was time he learned the truth.

“Your father means to crest me.”

Caspen frowned. Leo frowned too, and Tem knew he was about to hear some things that he wouldn’t understand, and might deeply disturb him. But she could do nothing to prevent that now.

“Why would he do that?” Caspen asked.

“He knows I’ll be a threat once I perform the crest. He won’t let that happen.”

Caspen’s frown deepened.

Leo held up his hand.

“Please,” he said. “I must know. What is a crest? ”

To Tem’s surprise, Caspen answered:

“It is a way for a basilisk to gain power.”

“By what means?” Leo asked.

But Caspen was done answering questions. He turned back to Tem.

“You are the love of my life. My father would never crest you.”

Beside her, Leo scoffed, and Tem prayed he’d stay calm. This was not the time for petty jealousy.

“I told you, that’s exactly what he’s going to do. He admitted it, Caspen.”

“He would not—”

“Wouldn’t he?” Tem cut him off sharply. “There is no end to what fathers would do to their sons.”

A muscle twitched in Leo’s jaw. A similar one twitched in Caspen’s.

Caspen shook his head slowly.

“He knows our engagement is bound by blood.”

“ Engagement? ” Leo interjected.

Tem placed his hand on his arm. She needed him to stay calm for just one more minute.

“Yes,” Tem nodded at Caspen. “He knows.”

“That means he…”

Caspen trailed off, and Tem watched as the truth dawned on him. A myriad of emotions passed over his face. None of them were surprise.

“He values power more than he values anything else, Caspen,” she said. “Including you.”

Caspen’s eyes met hers.

There was an incredible sadness in them, along with something resembling resolve. Perhaps Caspen had always known his father was capable of this. Bastian had asked him to crest another basilisk, after all—an act that was forbidden. He cared nothing for the lives of others. He cared nothing for his family. He only cared for himself.

“There is a simple solution,” Caspen said.

“Which is?”

“You will not perform the crest .”

Tem sighed. They were coming to the heart of it now. She would not be able to conceal the truth any longer.

“I have to,” she said.

“And why is that?”

Tem paused. In the silence, both men stared at her. Caspen with anger and disbelief, Leo with restrained bewilderment. Caspen shifted closer. So did Leo.

It was time.

“I’m…hurt,” Tem said.

“Who hurt you?”they asked at the exact same time.

Tem bit her lip. She looked at Caspen.

“You did,” she whispered.

Caspen’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before knitting together with immediate concern. Beside her, Leo let out an enraged sound, and Tem tightened her grip on his arm.

“It’s not what you think,” she said quickly. “He didn’t mean to.”

“That hardly matters,” Leo scoffed. He was already stepping forward.

Tem moved between them, still aware that they were at a wedding—her own wedding—and there were people watching.

“ Stop it, Leo. We don’t have time for this.”

It was true. The sun was setting, and the early moon would soon rise. People were beginning to find their seats. They had to resolve this before the ceremony commenced.

Tem turned to Caspen, her hand still firmly on Leo.

“When you crested me, it wounded my basilisk side. It’s been dying ever since.”

Caspen blinked.

“How can that be? The crest did not work on you.”

“It didn’t work on the human side of me.”

A moment passed as Caspen came to the inevitable conclusion:

“If the basilisk side of you is dying, that means…”

Tem finished for him:

“You’re dying too.”

Caspen was staring at her as if he were finally realizing something.

“I suppose I have been feeling somewhat…off…lately,” he murmured.

From the way he said it, Tem knew it was an understatement. She had no idea how he’d felt the last few days as their bond was slowly decaying. All she knew was how she’d felt—like she was losing the best part of her—and she figured Caspen had felt the same.Tem knew this was the last thing either of them wanted. The blood bond was supposed to tie them together for the rest of their lives. Neither of them thought it might cut their lives short.

“Tem,” Caspen said. “I do not care if I am dying. You cannot do this. I will not allow it.”

“There are limits,” Tem said quietly back. “To what you can allow.”

A moment of understanding passed between them. This was Tem’s choice—no different than choosing between Caspen or Leo, or choosing them both. It didn’t matter what Caspen wanted. It never had.

Leo cleared his throat, breaking the moment.

“Am I to understand that you are both injured?”

It was a gross oversimplification of their current situation. But it would have to do for now.

“Yes,” Tem said.

“And that your lives are tied to one another?”

“Yes.”

“And that you are engaged?”

She sighed.

“ Yes , Leo.”

“Those would have been helpful details to know before our wedding day, Tem.”

“Enough,” Caspen said. They both fell silent. “What can be done?”

A beat passed before Tem began:

“I can perform the—”

“No,” Caspen said sharply. “You cannot.”

“It will make me powerful, Caspen. I can resist your father’s crest .”

“He is ancient, Tem. He has had centuries of experience wielding his power. You stand no chance against him.”

“You’re the one who always told me I could do anything. Was that a lie?”

“Of course not. But this is not a matter of sheer will. He will overpower you.”

“I have to try.”

Caspen crossed his arms.

“ Crest just one person, Tem. Heal yourself, and then I will heal too.”

She shook her head.

“No. The deal was to crest the royals.”

Tem said it without thinking. It was only when Leo drew away that she realized the effect her words would have.

“You plan to—” he paused, and she could see him struggling to say the word, “— crest my family?”

Tem felt the sudden urge to cry.

“It doesn’t hurt them,” she insisted. “It’s completely painless.”

“But you would draw power from them? From me?”

Tem shook her head.

“ No ,” she said. “Not from you. Never from you.”

Caspen watched their exchange in silence, his mouth set in an unhappy line. Despite his previous threat to reveal their plan to Leo, Tem knew he never would have actually done so. He was like Leo in that way—he refused to do anything to hurt her. Tem was the one who was always hurting them.

Tem stepped closer, taking Leo’s hands in hers.

“I only agreed to the crest because it would spare you.”

“Spare me from what?”

“From my father,” Caspen took over. “He will kill you otherwise.”

Leo nodded, although Tem had no idea how much of this was actually sinkingin.

“Your sister will be spared too,” Tem said. “And her children.”

“And my father?”

Tem fell silent. Caspen said it for her:

“No.”

Leo closed his eyes.

Tem wondered if now, finally, it would be too much for Leo. This was more than he’d bargained for— she was more than he’d bargained for.

“Leo,” she whispered. “Say something.”

The prince was silent for a long moment. He looked down at Tem’s hands, his brow furrowed. Then he spoke:

“If you are asking me to choose between you and my father, I choose you, Tem.”

He said the words so calmly that she briefly wondered if she had hallucinated them. But then Caspen said:

“I would choose the same.”

This couldn’t be real.

“Are you two serious?” Tem whispered.

“I am,” Leo said.

“As am I.”

She stared at them.

They couldn’t be more different. But inside, they were cut from the same cloth. They had both been raised by power hungry, cruel men—men who had marked their sons, physically and otherwise.It shouldn’t come as a surprise that they would choose her over their fathers. They had already done so—multiple times, in fact. They had proven themselves to her more times than she could count.

It was time to return the favor.

“I can do this,” Tem said.

Both men stared at her.

“You can do anything, Tem,” Caspen said quietly. “Of that I am certain.”

The gentle clinking of a glass broke the moment.

Maximus was standing on the edge of the stage, facing the aisle.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, his voice floating to the edges of the crowd. “It is time.”

Without another word, Caspen disappeared.

Tem looked at Leo.

She was immediately struck by the peaceful expression on his face. Was it possible that he felt freedom in this moment? For him, defying his father was his greatest wish. He was happy to be here with her— marrying her. For Leo, the limited time he had with Tem began today. And she knew he had no intention of wasting it.

Leo leaned in.

The rest of the world disappeared as he took her face in his hands and kissed her. Tem lost herself in their kiss, pretending that nothing was remotely wrong—pretending that this was simply her joyous wedding day. She focused on Leo’s cologne, on the way he smelled like summer. She’d always loved that smell.

The crowd was filing into their seats.

Leo led Tem to the end of the aisle, where her mother was already waiting for her in a dress made of silk.

“You look beautiful,” Tem told her.

“As do you, my dear.”

Leo extended his hand. Tem’s mother took it.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said graciously. “You raised an exceptional daughter.”

Tem’s mother blushed. It was her first time experiencing Leo’s uncanny ability to say exactly the right thing, and it was something Tem was sure nobody had ever told her before. The words were even sweeter given the fact that her mother had raised her alone.

“Thank you,” her mother said, her eyes wide. “You are too kind.”

Leo smiled.

“Kindness is not my specialty, I’m afraid. But I intend to practice it every day with Tem.”

He released her mother’s hand, leaning down to give Tem one more kiss.

“See you up there,” he whispered against her lips.

Tem didn’t reply. She watched him walk down the aisle, his blonde hair gleaming in the early moonlight. Her mother touched her arm.

“I can understand why you love them both.”

For the first time that evening, Tem smiled. Then her mother said:

“Are you ready, my dear?”

Tem took a deep breath.

The time had come to do what she was always meant to do—to become who she was always meant to become.

“Yes.”

The crowd turned to look at them as the harpist began to play. Nerves threatened to overtake her as her mother’s arm linked in hers and they walked down the aisle together. Tem searched desperately for something to focus on, and her eyes found Leo. He was standing in the center of the stage, his hands clasped behind his back, watching her.

Tears gleamed in his eyes.

His sincerity touched her. There were far worse things, Tem realized, than to be loved by two people. She had no desire to live an ordinary life—a life devoid of passion and challenge and truth. She had always been destined for more. Her path may not have been a conventional one, but it was hers, and she wouldn’t trade it for anyone else’s.

Tem parted ways with her mother at the base of the stage, taking the steps up onto the platform alone. When Leo extended his hand, Tem took it, standing so they were facing each other. Maximus stood between them, and although she could feel him glaring at her, Tem ignored him. Instead, she looked out over the audience.

There was Gabriel, with the caterers. He winked at her when their eyes met. There was Vera, seated next to the other girls who had been eliminated. Her arms were crossed, her nose scrunched in displeasure. The basilisks stood at the edge of the clearing. There were fourteen total: one for each girl who had participated in the competition, and then Bastian. Rowe and Caspen stood beside each other, their shoulders six pointed inches apart.

Tem touched the golden claw around her neck. The moment she did so, Caspen’s gaze flicked to hers. She saw an eternity in those eyes.

“Honored guests,” Maximus said, drawing her attention back to the stage. “We are gathered here today to witness a union.”

Leo’s fingers wove into hers.

“My son has chosen his bride from a selection of the finest women this kingdom has to offer,” he turned to Leo. “I pray you may find happiness in one anoth?er, and it is my honor to wed you here today.”

His speech was as bare as could be. There was no emotion behind it—no love. Maximus spoke as if he were reciting a list of ingredients.

He turned to Tem.

She dearly hoped he wouldn’t be the second king to betray her tonight.

“Temperance,” he said, his cold eyes boring into hers. “Do you take my son to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, until death do you part?”

Tem looked at Leo. Was it her imagination, or had he flinched at the ‘forsaking all others’ part?

“I do,” she said.

Maximus turned to Leo.

“Thelonius. Do you take Temperance to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, until death do you part?”

Leo smiled widely, looking at Tem as if she were a flower in a field of ashes.

“I do.”

“Very well,” Maximus said. “I pronounce you husband and wife.”

The words were bitter on his tongue. And why wouldn’t they be? Maximus did not approve of Tem. He did not want Leo to be king. Nothing that was happening right now was even remotely in his favor, and Tem could relate to his disappointment—she felt the same toward Bastian.

“You may now kiss your bride.”

Leo’s lips were on hers before Maximus could finish his sentence.

The crowd cheered, although Tem barely heard them. She only felt Leo’s hands pulling her closer, his entire body pressing against hers. Every ounce of longing he had harbored for her spilled into his kiss, enveloping Tem in an insistent rush. He kissed her deeply, for far longer than was appropriate. And she let him.

When they pulled apart, the crowd cheered. It was deafening.

“Kora,” Tem whispered. She never would have expected such a response to her nuptials.

Leo only held her tighter.

“See, Tem?” he murmured in her ear. “They love you as I do.”

Tem smiled. The silence of the crowd when he’d kissed her in the town square had been humiliating for Tem. Now it seemed like a distant memory—another lifetime. Tem was struck suddenly by the enormity of what Leo had just done. Not only was he going against his own father, but he was forsaking the only world he’d ever known—a world that greatly benefited him. And he was doing it at great personal cost, on nothing but Tem’s word.

For her.

Tem wrapped her arms around him, tucking her head into his shoulder so she could whisper right in his ear:

“Thank you, Leo.”

She felt him smile.

“Anything for you, Tem,” he whispered back.

Maximus clapped his hands together, and the crowd quieted.

“Honored guests,” he said, his gaze falling to Leo. “Now that my son has wed, he is ready for the responsibility of ruling this great kingdom with his wife by his side. To rule well means to take every citizen into consideration—to prioritize every human life.”

Tem noticed how he emphasized only human life.

“It is a privilege to be king,” Maximus turned to face Leo. “A privilege that I know my son will take as seriously as I have.”

Father and son stared at each other. As if in slow motion, Maximus lifted the crown from his own head and placed it on Leo’s. It was a mirror of the Passing of the Crown, only this time, it would remain on Leo’s head.

“It is my honor to crown you king.”

The audience erupted into cheers once more, continuing even as Leo stepped to the edge of the stage and held up his hands.

“My people,” he cried. “I thank you.”

Dread pricked Tem’s stomach. The ceremony was over.

Bastian entered her mind:

It is time.

Tem froze. His eyes bore into hers as Leo addressed the audience:

“With my rule, I intend to usher our kingdom into a new era of peace,” he said. “The conflict between the humans and the basilisks has gone on far too long.”

A murmur swept through the crowd. Nobody was used to hearing rhetoric in favor of the basilisks. They were considered the enemy—they were not worth the air the royals breathed.

The Serpent King was staring right at her—staring into her soul.

Crest them, Temperance.

But something was distracting her—a movement out of the corner of her eye. Several tall figures were entering the clearing, running along the edges of the maze. Tem squinted. Their smooth strides made it seem like they might be basilisks. But that couldn’t be right. Only the teachers and the king attended the ceremony.

Leo was still talking:

“There have been many cruelties, on both sides. Those cruelties end today.”

“Thelonius,” Maximus grabbed his arm. “Cease this at once.”

Leo ignored him, continuing on even louder:

“It is my belief that we can coexist, learning from one another as we should have done from the beginning.”

The figures were getting closer—encircling the crowd in an impenetrable line.

Now, Temperance.

Was she really about to do this?

A deep, animalistic urge swept through her. The basilisk side of her wanted to perform the crest . She could feel the need thrumming through her body like a pulse. But Tem was made up of two things, and she did not covet power the way Bastian and Maximus did. The desire to dominate wasn’t something she identified with. Such hubris was reserved for kings. It was a useless thing to Tem—a facade of control that could break at any second, as it was breaking now. There had to be anoth?er way.

A shadow of an idea formed.

Perhaps Tem didn’t need to crest the royals. It was a temporary solution anyway—an imperfect bandage for a wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding. Even if she succeeded, Bastian would crest her immediately, and the power she gained from the royals might not be enough to resist him. There was only one source of unlimited power for her—a renewable source. Someone who wouldn’t be hurt by the crest in any way shape or form.

Herself.

Tem was two things: human and basilisk. Her basilisk side was dying, but her human side was not. Why shouldn’t she use one to feed the other? No harm would come to her at her own hand. An elegant solution. Bastian would be so proud.

Tem looked at Caspen, who had always protected her. Caspen, who had always called her perfect, who insisted from day one that she was flawless. Caspen, who had always told her that the traits she considered weaknesses were really her strengths. For a moment, Tem dared to see herself as Caspen did: extraordinary. He’d been right all along.

She could do anything. And she would do this.

TEMPERANCE. NOW.

But Tem had made up her mind.

No.

A curious expression passed over Bastian’s face. He looked almost happy.

So be it.

“A new future begins today,” Leo was saying. “Effective immediately, I will—”

His words were cut off by a scream.