Split or Swallow

CHAPTER FORTY

Every head in the crowd turned at the same time.

Tem turned right along with them, her mouth falling open as the cause of the scream became apparent.

One of the basilisks was transitioning.

Tem watched in horror as scales dappled his skin, his body elongating into a shape she’d seen many times before. Smoke plumed into the air, concealing the nearest row of chairs as people scrambled over one another in an attempt to get away. The basilisk opened its mouth, reared its great head, and sank its fangs into the neck of a stout man with a red beard. The man was so shocked he didn’t even cry out. His mouth formed a surprised ‘O’ right before his head was ripped from his shoulders.

Leo threw himself in front of Tem, pulling her back as more basilisks streamed into the clearing. Someone knocked into her, and she realized it was Maximus. He leaped from the stage, barreling down the steps without a backward glance.

“ Coward! ” Leo cried.

His voice was lost in the wind as the rest of the basilisks began to transition.

There was nowhere to go. Some people ran screaming into the maze, but without Leo’s sense of direction, they were merely delaying the inevitable. Basilisks ran after them with all the glee of hunters stalking their prey. A woman ran hand in hand with her husband only to be yanked to a halt when he suddenly turned to stone. She shrieked in pain as his granite fingers crushed hers. Tem watched as another woman pulled her dress from her shoulders, trying to mount a basilisk that had crested her. He pushed her aside, already grabbing the throat of another.

Tem turned to Leo.

“Go.”

Despite all the chaos, his eyes were only focused on her.

“Only if you come with me.”

“I can’t. I have to find—”

But she cut off as someone appeared beside them.

They both looked over to see Caspen.

“Tem,” he said. “Did you perform the crest? ”

“No.”

Relief, then immediate worry flashed across his face. He jerked his head at Leo.

“He is vulnerable. If someone tries to—”

“I already claimed him.”

There was the briefest of pauses. Then Caspen said:

“Good.”

He meant it: Tem could feel his approval, and she realized he liked the way she had thought like a basilisk. He turned to Leo.

“You must go.”

Leo shook his head. “I’m not leaving her.”

Caspen shook his head too.

“No harm shall come to her, Leo. You have my word.”

It was the first time Caspen had called him by his name. Still, Leo hesitated. Caspen stepped forward so they were eye to eye, placing his hand on Leo’s shoulder.

“I cannot protect you both at the same time, and I know she wants you to live. Go.”

It was as close as Caspen would ever get to telling Leo that he mattered. For a moment, the two men simply stared at each other. Then Leo placed his own hand on Caspen’s shoulder. Neither of them said a word, but Tem saw a mutual understanding pass between them: they both needed to stay alive for her. Nothing was more important than that.

They dropped their hands.

“Very well,” Leo said. He turned to her. “Tem, I—”

“Tell me after, Leo.”

He closed his mouth. Then he pressed a kiss to her temple and ran.

Tem watched Leo get halfway across the clearing before a basilisk grabbed him triumphantly by the throat. Before Tem could panic, the basilisk released him, looking down at his hand in confusion. A moment later, Leo was gone.

“Tem,” Caspen said urgently. “We must get you somewhere safe.”

She looked out over the chaos before her. Predators hunting prey. Strong killing the weak. The circle of life.

“No,” she shook her head. “This is my fault. I have to fix it.”

“You cannot fix this, Tem. My people are angry—you cannot stop what has already begun.”

Before Tem could reply, someone joined them onstage.

Caspen immediately threw his arm in front of Tem as a basilisk in its human form advanced toward them. Blood dripped from the man’s mouth, which was twisted in a horrible grin. He was already transitioning. Great claws formed where fingers had once been, spreading wide as Caspen pushed Tem behind him.

The basilisk lunged.

Caspen let out a grunt as the sharp claws found purchase. He stumbled backward, blood pouring from his bicep. The basilisk advanced again, its fangs thrashing together madly as the rest of his body caught up to his hands.

“ Caspen! ” Tem cried. “Transition!”

But Caspen only shook his head.

“I cannot, Tem.”

Understanding pierced Tem like an arrow.

Caspen was weak. He’d been dying for days, and it had progressed to the point where he could no longer embody his true form. Tem stood up straight, squaring her shoulders so air could reach her lungs.

It was time.

She closed her eyes, tuning out the sounds of conflict, focusing only on the way she felt inside. The void within her was glaringly large. Tem felt a primal ache at the loss, wishing dearly that she hadn’t waited so long to address it. She quieted her mind, reaching for the remaining strands of her power.

It was there, but just barely. She drew from it—drinking from the endless well within herself—using one side to fix the other.

The moment she connected the two parts of her, every cell in her body lit on fire. Complete and utter clarity rushed through Tem’s veins as her basilisk side immediately began to heal. The frayed edges of her mind knit together seamlessly, creating something that was even stronger than what was there before. Tem felt buoyant , as if she might float from the stage and into the endless sky. She was soaring into infinity, experiencing nothing and everything all at once. There was no greater feeling than this—no better way to understand herself. All the broken pieces of her identity came together in one perfect, limitless point. Her power was cosmic—as vast as the stars.

She was bound to no one. She was free .

Tem reached for Caspen, throwing open the corridor between their minds, gasping as their connection surged back into place.

Caspen. Transition.

Caspen didn’t need telling twice. A great cloud of smoke billowed from his shoulders as his body snapped into something else entirely. He transitioned with a roar—one that was so deeply triumphant Tem had to cover her ears. A split second later, the other basilisk was headless. It happened so fast Tem didn’t even blink. Without missing a beat, Caspen lunged at two more basilisks that were approaching from the back of the stage.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tem spotted Vera. Rowe was upon her. She watched as he wrapped his fingers around her throat, lifting her head to his. Vera’s eyes rolled upward, and Tem knew he was cresting her. Beside them, two basilisks were having sex, their bodies thrashing together in the blood-soaked grass. Tem looked desperately around for Gabriel and her mother, but didn’t see either of them. She was about to step off the stage to find them when she felt a presence behind her.

Tem turned to see Bastian’s blackened eyes searing straight into hers. Before she could speak, his hand wrapped around her throat.

Immediately, Tem felt her power seep in his direction. It was as if someone had begun to pour her into him, and the familiar euphoria from the crest started to swell over her. It would be so easy to give in. So simple. The king’s pull was undeniable—his ancient presence so much stronger than hers—strong enough to override the protection of Caspen’s venom. And yet, Tem found she was able to resist him. Every time he pulled at her, she pushed back. The king grew impatient; she could sense his agitation.

Yield .

Tem would not yield—not her body, and not her mind. Never.

She wanted to call for Caspen. But it took all her energy to hold off the king, and Caspen was occupied anyway. He was outnumbered, fighting two basilisks at once, trying to prevent them from ascending the stage. Tem didn’t even know whether he’d noticed what his father was trying to do to her.

Do as I say, Temperance.

No.

The king let out a growl of frustration. His grip on her throat tightened.

Tem watched in horror as scales crept up the sides of his neck. She tried to pull away but it was no use—he was holding her so tightly she could barely breathe. His mouth widened; his teeth became fangs. Tem knew, without a shadow of a doubt, what was about to happen. Still, nothing could prepare her for the way Bastian’s jaw unhinged itself, opening to reveal the dark abyss of his throat. Tem didn’t have time to think before his fangs crushed into her shoulder with terrifying finality, the force of their bite nearly causing her to black out right then. She felt her collarbone break with a horrible crunch.

Then her shoulder blade.

Then her sternum.

Pain like she’d never known shot through her. It was worse than when her pelvis had broken during the ritual. Agony was all she could feel—overtaking her mind and forcing her body into a state of shock. Tem knew the bite had a purpose: to weaken the part of her she was drawing power from. Her basilisk side wouldn’t be harmed by Bastian’s venom—but her human side would. It was the exact opposite of the problem she’d just solved by cresting herself.

All that work for nothing , she thought vaguely.

Tem tried to fight back. But her power was stretched too thin—she couldn’t free herself from Bastian’s grip, much less heal her shoulder. The king’s crest grew stronger, forcing her into submission. The well of power she drew from grew weak?er. She grew weaker.

Tem screamed as her feet left the stage, stars clouding her vision as Bastian lift?ed her into the air. All her weight yanked against the injury, pulling on her with enormous, merciless pressure.

TEM!

Caspen’s voice barely registered. Consciousness was fleeting. Bastian was mauling her—ripping her apart with monstrous glee. Her mind was numb; she couldn’t resist his crest any longer.

Then, without warning, he released her.

Tem fell with such speed that she thought her kneecaps might split open on the stage. She heard Caspen behind her—recognizing his roar and the smell of his smoke—as he attacked. Bastian fought back ferociously, matching his son with a roar of his own, landing blow after blow as they parried across the stage. But it was Caspen, finally, who landed a well-timed bite to the king’s face. Bastian howled in pain, collapsing in a writhing pile of scales.

He was transitioning again—slipping into his human form as he weakened. As scales became skin, Tem felt the pull of his crest retreat, and with it, the last barrier between her and the insurmountable pain in her shoulder.

As soon as the Serpent King resembled a man once more, Caspen bent his head. Tem watched as his glorious fangs emerged from his mouth, curving down into Bastian’s pale, exposed neck.

Bastian let out a tortured scream. The sound was so horrible it finally shattered Tem’s daze, yanking her violently back into the present.

Caspen!

He didn’t reply. There was no way he heard her over Bastian’s cries.

Caspen —

She tried again, flinching at the horrific thing happening before her.

STOP.

But Caspen didn’t stop. Instead, his fangs sank deeper into Bastian’s body, ripping his skin and splattering blood everywhere. Bastian’s ribs broke with a dull crunch as Caspen yanked the bones apart, forcing his way into his chest cavity, his mouth opening wider, his fangs slick with red. Tem saw Caspen’s throat bulge, then swallow. Horror twisted her stomach as she realized what was happening.

Caspen wasn’t killing Bastian quickly—that would have been a mercy, and he owed nobody his mercy. His father would be alive when he cannibalized him. Tem understood that it was Bastian’s punishment. It was only fair—it was exactly what Caspen had just watched him do to Tem.

Tem couldn’t save Bastian. She didn’t want to anyway. But she wanted dearly to save Caspen from himself. It was a terrible thing to kill your own father. More terrible still to do it in such a violent way. But there was nothing she could do. Her head was clouded with smoke; the entire right side of her body had gone numb. More of her was covered in blood than not, and she knew it was all hers.

Finally, Tem blacked out.

When she came to, she didn’t know how much time had passed. But Caspen was beside her in his human form once more.

Tem.

She could smell his rage.

Tem knew she would never get that image of Caspen out of her mind—bent over Bastian, eating chunks of flesh from his chest. She would see it in her nightmares.

Tem?

Caspen placed a tentative hand on her cheek.

He was soaked in blood and venom, bits of Bastian’s organs sliding slowly down his torso in wet, gelatinous streaks. The smell was overpowering. She was going to pass out again.

“I—” Tem started.

But a searing pain cut off her words. Everything hit her all at once—the mangled remnants of her body screaming in sudden unison. She reached for her power, but it was barely there.

Caspen. I can’t heal myself.

Caspen’s hands were on her, trying to pull her upright.

Try harder, Tem.

Tem couldn’t reply. The pain in her body was worsening. She was in agony as a crushing wave of sensation overtook her.

Fight it, Tem. You must fight it.

Tem tried. She harnessed her power, throwing up a shield against the pain. But her body was broken—both parts of her were weakened. No one could withstand what she had just gone through.

I’m not healing, Caspen.

She was using every drop of her power to stay conscious—she had nothing left over to fix the wound in her shoulder. Blood was pouring down her body, dripping onto the stage. Caspen immediately placed his hand on her shoulder, trying to heal her himself. But she had crossed the threshold—she could feel it in her gut. No matter what Caspen did, she only bled more.

Hold on, Tem. Just a little longer.

Tem couldn’t hold on any longer. It was too much. Her injury was draining her, slowly but surely. Her shoulder was bleeding out, streams of her blood merging with Bastian’s. There was some poetic irony there, but Tem was too tired to find it.

I can’t fight it, Caspen. It’s too much.

You need power.

Any ideas?

A long pause. And then:

Crest Leo.

Tem shook her head. She didn’t even have the energy to answer.

Yes, Tem. You must.

But Tem couldn’t. She wouldn’t . She’d just narrowly avoided performing the crest on the royals. She had no desire to force another human being to bond with her—to wield her power in such a brutal and unforgiving way.

I don’t want to.

She’d claimed Leo to ensure that nobody would ever crest him. If she did it herself, it would defeat the purpose. Caspen was still talking:

Your human side is dying. You need to crest someone in order to heal it.

And that someone has to be Leo?

He would do anything for you. You know this.

It’s not right.

He will feel only pleasure, Tem.

He’ll be bound to me, Caspen.

He loves you. The two of you are bound together already.

Tem knew the words pained him. But she couldn’t care about Caspen’s feelings right now. She couldn’t crest Leo. Not when he’d specifically told her how he craved agency—how the thing he wanted most was to be able to make his own choices —how he wanted to become the swan. There could be nothing crueler than taking that away from him.

Caspen was already turning away.

I will bring him to you.

He was gone before she could protest. Tem shut everything else out—the sounds of pain and death and anguish—focusing only on keeping herself whole. Every moment that passed, she became a fraction weaker. She knew Bastian had bit her to punish her—one last way to keep her beneath him. Tem stared at his mangled, chewed-up body, barely recognizable under wet clots of organs and blood. A death worthy of a king, she supposed: vicious and brutal. Epic.

An eternity later, Caspen reappeared with both Leo and Lilly in tow. Tem looked up at Leo. His hand was scraped and bleeding. Lilly had a scratch on her face that was gently seeping blood. Her normally bright eyes were red with tears.

“Leo,” Tem whispered. “You were supposed to leave.”

“Tem,” he knelt beside her. “I had to find Lilly first.”

His face tightened with concern when he saw the blood surrounding her. He glanced up at Caspen.

“What happened to her?”

“My father bit her.”

Leo removed his jacket, pressing it to her shoulder. He seemed short of breath, like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Is she going to die?” he rasped.

“Not if you help her.”

“Caspen,” Tem said. “No.”

Leo looked desperately between them.

“How can I help her?” he asked.

“You must let her—”

“ Caspen ,” Tem cried. “I already told you no.”

It took so much effort to speak. Her lights were dimming, her blood flowing slower. She could no longer balance; she tilted backward, and Leo caught her.

“Tem,” Leo’s eyes were a wild mess. “What can I do? Just tell me.”

When Tem didn’t answer, he turned to Caspen.

“Can’t she draw power from me?”

Caspen nodded. “Yes. But she refuses to do so.”

Leo turned back to Tem.

“Do it, Tem. I give you permission.”

But Tem shook her head. Leo didn’t know what he was signing up for—didn’t know that the crest would bind him to her.

And yet, Caspen was right. What was Leo’s love for her if not another version of a bond? He had already pledged himself to her—already married her, for Kora’s sake. She couldn’t think of anyone who the crest would impact less. It was one thing to crest a stranger. It was quite another to crest Leo, who loved her.

“Please,” he pressed his lips to her hand, and they came away bloody. “You know I would do anything for you, Tem. Anything .”

Caspen was watching them, his eyes dark.

Crest him, Tem. Do it now.

Tem looked up into Leo’s eyes.

He was terrified of losing her. It was written all over his face.

“Do you trust me, Leo?”

She’d asked him that before. But this time she wasn’t asking to confide in him. She wasn’t asking him to swallow her venom. This time she was asking him to trust her with his life. His answer was the same as it always was:

“I trust you, Tem.”

His hands were shaking as they held her.

You are running out of time, Tem. I can barely feel you in my mind.

“It won’t hurt,” Tem said to Leo, continuing calmly as if everything that was happening wasn’t happening at all. “I promise.”

“I don’t care if it hurts. Just do it.”

The moment he said the words, Caspen knelt beside them, taking Tem’s hand and wrapping it around Leo’s throat. Tem was grateful for his help—she couldn’t have done it alone.

It was the last thing Tem wanted. But she had no choice.

She pulled on the strings of her power, yanking with all her strength and aiming it, unequivocally, at Leo. Energy thrummed in her hand. She sent the crest with everything she had left, feeling a bright beam of warmth shoot from her body to Leo’s. His eyes slammed shut as it hit him.

Tem watched his face, recognizing his expression as the one he wore when he finished. She knew exactly how he was feeling right now—knew the utter euphoria the crest was giving him. What she didn’t know was how it would feel for her .

It was different than when she had crested herself. That hadn’t felt sexual—only powerful. This time she felt an unequivocal sense of arousal, even stronger than anything she had felt for Leo before. It was as if someone were stimulating all the nerve endings in her body. Leo’s face looked suddenly like an angel’s—like every inch of him was made of diamonds. His skin shone in the moonlight, and before Tem knew what she was doing, she was leaning in.

When their lips touched, her whole body opened up to receive him. He was streaming into her—filling her with himself until the pain fell mercifully away and there was only lightness. Dimly, she felt Caspen’s hand on the back of her head. He was holding them together, ensuring she drew as much power as possible from the human prince.

The wound on her shoulder was closing; she could feel the skin seaming back together as her body healed itself. Her bones clicked back into place; her ribs realigned. Clarity returned to her mind, bringing with it the focus she’d been unable to access just moments ago. Pure, unfiltered power shot through her.

Tem pulled away.

When Leo’s eyes opened, he looked at her like she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. It was the same way he’d always looked at her, she realized.

“What…just happened?” he whispered.

Caspen was still holding them an inch apart.

“You saved me,” Tem whispered back.

Leo smiled. He looked so radiantly happy that Tem couldn’t help but feel hap?py too. Her gaze moved from his face to Caspen’s. The two men she loved. This was all she needed: both of them, right her, beside her.

Eventually, Tem stood.

Caspen and Leo rose too, standing on either side of her as all three of them looked out over the clearing. The view was nothing short of carnage.

Some humans were killed, while others were crested. Still more were petrified: statue after statue filled the clearing, all cowered in various defensive positions, forever preserved in their final state of fear. The once pristine grass was strewn with body parts that had been ripped from their sockets. Blood was everywhere. It stained the white tablecloths and dripped in great uneven splatters from white ros?es. Sobs and screams filled the air.

It was horrible. All of it.

Beside her, Caspen stepped forward. He leaned down, sinking his fists into Bastian’s wet corpse before lifting what was left of his father high above his head. He let out a roar of anger and victory that echoed throughout the clearing with terrifying finality. All other sounds ceased immediately. Both basilisks and humans alike stared up at Caspen, the new Serpent King, wielding his dead father. As soon as everyone’s eyes were on him, Caspen hurled Bastian’s body off the stage. It land?ed in the middle of the aisle, crumpling into a bloody heap.

And just like that, it was over.

The remaining basilisks bolted for the maze, sprinting into the gaps in the hedges. Some of them wore their true forms, their giant bodies crushing straight through the walls. Caspen lowered his arms, watching them go. He would be merciful today.

Silence fell on the clearing.

Only then did the true cost of the evening became apparent. The grass was littered with bodies—some stone, some flesh, some halfway in between. Anyone who was still alive was huddled by the maze walls, their hands covering their eyes in case a basilisk wearing its true form was still nearby. Tem saw her mother in the distance, clinging to Gabriel. Pure relief passed through her.

“Caspen,” she pointed. “My mother—”

He was already stepping forward.

“I shall retrieve her,” he said, touching her jaw gently. “Rest.”

Tem didn’t protest. She watched as he descended the steps, the humans on either side of him cowering as he passed. Lilly followed in his footsteps, extending her hand to the first person she saw.

Tem turned to Leo.

He looked back at her, his face still shining with love.

“Tem,” he began slowly. “That was…not how I thought our wedding wouldgo.”

Tem almost laughed. They were standing exactly where they’d gotten married earlier. It was dark now, the clearing lit only by the light of the harvest moon. Nothing was the same.

“Me neither,” she said.

He brushed his fingertips along her shoulder.

“Are you in pain?”

She shook her head. Not anymore.

“Are you?”

Leo held up his hand. His palm was badly scraped, blood dripping down his wrist.

Tem took it in hers, pressing her own palm over the injury and closing her eyes. She’d never done this for someone else before. But she did it for Leo, using her power to fix the ripped skin, stitching it back together as Caspen had done so many times for her. When she lifted her hand, the wound was healed.

“That’s…quite extraordinary,” Leo whispered.

Tem nodded. It was.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other. Leo was covered in blood, but it was mostly Tem’s. He extended his fingers, reaching for her face. Tem let him touch her, leaning into his warmth, remembering the way his lips had felt during the crest .

“I…have some regrets, you know,” he said quietly.

“About what?”

He cupped her cheek with his palm.

“I’m afraid I wasn’t what you deserved.”

“You didn’t need to be anything for me,” Tem said.

“No, I didn’t, did I? You already had everything you needed.”

He brushed his thumb slowly over her bottom lip, just like he had when he’d told her about Evelyn. Then his fingers went lower, touching the little golden claw between her breasts. Tem remembered how Leo had tried to give her jewelry on their first date— that could be special too , he’d said—how she’d refused to accept it.

Now it was time to give him something in return.

Tem would not doom Leo to a life as her slave. That wasn’t love. True love was doing what was best for the other person, at the expense of yourself. True love was sacrificing your happiness for theirs. Leo deserved to be loved the same way Caspen loved Tem—unconditionally, and without obligation. Leo deserved more . Their bond was permanent; there was nothing she could do to change that. But Tem would not take his agency away. She would bestow it instead.

“Leo,” Tem whispered, knowing that her words would bind him, that he would have no choice but to obey. “I want you to find Evelyn. I want you to choose your future.”

A slow, relaxed smile broke across Leo’s face. It wasn’t joyous, exactly. Merely peaceful.

“I don’t know where she is, Tem.”

“Your father knows. He’ll tell you.”

It was the least Maximus could do for his son.

Leo tilted his head, considering something. She knew he wouldn’t protest—he couldn’t. But it was almost as if he wanted to. Just when Tem was about to give him the order again, he said:

“Then I suppose this is goodbye.”

For some reason, Tem began to cry.

Leo lifted his finger, brushing the tear off her cheek.

“I never thought I’d see you cry over me.”

“I never thought we’d be saying goodbye.”

“I’m not worth these tears, Tem. Trust me.”

That only made Tem cry harder. Of course Leo was worth her tears. He was worth so much more than he thought he was—than she had thought he was.In another lifetime, there was a happy ending for them. But not in this one.

“Tell me this isn’t the last time I’ll see you,” she whispered. She didn’t care if it interfered with the order she’d just given him. Tem couldn’t bear the thought of never looking into his gray eyes again—never seeing his tall, lanky shoulders angled in her direction.

It was torture to imagine it.

“This isn’t the last time,” Leo whispered back.

Tem couldn’t talk anymore.

Instead she kissed him, gently, so different than most of the kisses they had shared. Leo was always raw energy, constantly in motion. Now he held her in his arms, sliding his tongue slowly against hers with all the care in the world.

“Tell me what we had was real,” he murmured against her lips.

Her answer was the truth.

“It was real.”

When they pulled apart, they didn’t speak again. Instead Leo raised his hand, taking a single curl and twirling it around his long, slim fingers. He smiled, his gold incisors gleaming in the moonlight.

Then he walked away.