Split or Swallow

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

In a split second, Caspen was upright. His chest hit Tem’s shoulders as his arms wrapped around her waist, halting her motions and pulling her tightly against him.

He should not be here. The ritual is only meant for my quiver.

The crowd parted for Rowe as he approached the bed, his eyes never leaving Tem’s. The suite was silent: any hissing had stopped completely. Behind her, Tem could feel Caspen’s temperature rising. She prayed he wouldn’t transition while he was still inside her.

Rowe stopped at the foot of the bed. He raised his hand slowly.

Caspen’s grip became even tighter. The room was so quiet Tem could hear her own heartbeat galloping frantically against her ribs. Rowe’s eyes flicked to Caspen’s. They stared at each other for a long moment, and Tem knew they must be speaking with their minds.

Rowe’s gaze slid to her.

Tem stayed perfectly still as he brushed a single fingertip under the bottom of her chin, tilting her head toward his. When her neck was fully arched, he paused.

“She takes you so well,” Rowe whispered.

Caspen wrapped his fingers around her throat, yanking her away from his grasp.

“Do not touch what is mine.”

A smile twisted Rowe’s lips. It was a cold smile—utterly devoid of anything but malice. He looked Tem straight in the eye and said:

“I hope he breaks you.”

Before Tem could think of a response, Rowe stepped back, disappearing into the shadows.

Tem looked to Caspen for guidance as the crowd’s collective hiss returned. He was staring after Rowe, his jaw clenched. Tem touched his face gently, pulling his gaze to her.

“Caspen,” she whispered. “Look only at me.”

At her words, he relaxed. His grip on her throat loosened; the tension left his chest. He lifted her once more, turning her again so she was facing him. Tem moved her hips purposefully, knowing they wouldn’t be interrupted this time. The wave inside her began to build as Caspen’s fingers went to her clitoris, applying pressure where she needed it the most.

Caspen— she cried into his mind, —I’m—

Before she could finish her thought, she came.

Caspen came too, releasing himself inside her as he pulled her hips quickly against his. She felt his wetness join hers, spreading over their thighs and dripping onto the sheet. There was ownership in his grip. The way he held her told everyone that she was his —that she belonged to him. Tem gave herself over to it, letting him pound into her as hard as he wanted, letting him mark her in any way he liked.

They fucked again. And again.

Every time Caspen came, he became hard mere moments later. There were times when he didn’t even bother pulling out. They had sex for hours, and eventually the bed became soaked with their cum. At one point, two basilisks stepped forward, and Caspen fucked Tem standing up while they changed the fitted silk sheet.

The crowd ebbed and flowed. Basilisks came and went, watching for just a few seconds or for hours at a time. Some of them touched themselves, and some of them simply stared. It was overstimulating to the point of distraction—sometimes Tem found herself watching them as they watched her, staring at the endless parade of beautiful, naked bodies.

Only one person stayed the entire time.

Bastian stood off to the side, nowhere near the bed. He never touched himself, although he was clearly erect. He merely stood there, silently, focused on Tem. Whenever she caught herself staring at him, she forced her gaze back to Caspen, losing herself in his eyes, which were getting blacker with every orgasm.

He was starting to transition.

There was no mistaking the scales that had begun to harden his skin. They spread slowly but surely down his chest in a dappled wave, multiplying by the hour. There was no way to stop it—no way to reverse it. They were here, finally, at the point Caspen had always feared. Caspen was becoming more aggressive—his hands squeezed her breasts, her neck, her ass. His fingers tangled in her hair, holding her mouth directly on his as he claimed her.

The stars inched along the sky above them, but not nearly fast enough. After a particularly rough climax, Caspen cradled Tem’s face in his palms.

You will bleed if we keep going as we have been.

So heal me.

No. I will not hurt you just because I can heal you.

I don’t care, Caspen.

I do.

Tem knew Caspen was worried for her. But beneath that worry was the insatiable desire she had come to recognize in him. She knew that at some point— soon —he wouldn’t be able to stop even if he tried. Tem remembered what she had seen when she’d infiltrated his mind. He was addicted to her; everything she did turned him on, and even when she was in pain, it only turned him on more, the basilisk instinct overtaking the part of him that wanted to keep her safe.

She could see how difficult it was for him to hold back—how he couldn’t look at her for too long, especially when she was on top—how close he was to losing control with every single thrust. It was only a matter of time before he gave in and ravaged her the way he really wanted to.

Just hurt me, Caspen.

No.

There’s no other way.

I will find another way.

And what way is that, exactly?

I will be gentle.

But he couldn’t be gentle. Every time their eyes met, she could practically feel his hunger. The scales on his shoulders were spreading; his skin was scorching to the touch. She could taste smoke on his tongue. He was transitioning before her, his body slipping into its true form against his will. Nobody—not even Caspen, with his unparalleled self control—could change his fundamental nature. Tem was prepared to argue again. But before she could, Bastian stepped forward.

Tem froze as father and son stared at each other once more.

Her heart leaped in anticipation. Was there a problem? Had they done something wrong? Was the ritual over? Tem glanced up at the sky. It was not yet midnight. She looked at Caspen, but his face revealed nothing. After a moment, Bastian stepped back again, crossing his arms and leaning once more against the wall.

What did he say?

Caspen’s eyes met hers.

We have one hour left.

Dread pooled in Tem’s stomach. An hour.

It was far too long. She knew her body; she couldn’t go another hour like this.

I will try to be gentle, Tem. But I…

Caspen didn’t finish his sentence. Tem finished it for him:

But you can’t.

He was still thrusting slowly, still trying to resist. He buried his head in her shoulder; he couldn’t even look at her anymore. She could feel his heartbeat—normally so slow and steady—beating erratically against her chest.

He was fighting. But he was losing.

Caspen’s body refused to behave; the monster inside him was dying to get out. Tem pressed her palms against his shoulders. His skin was white-hot.

Just hurt me, Caspen.

No.

Even if you’re gentle, I’m not going to make it.

He shook his head. But they both knew she was right.

Hurt me, Caspen. Then heal me. It’s the only way.

I cannot.

You don’t have a choice.

I will not.

But it was not a matter of will.

I trust you, Caspen.

It was true. There was no one she trusted more.

The crowd of basilisks had grown. Tem wasn’t surprised; this was the grand finale, after all. This final hour would determine whether everything had been worth it—whether Tem was worth it.

Caspen rolled on top of her. Tem knew it was his way of protecting her from himself. This way her body was covered—she was no longer on display, and Caspen could control the pace. Tem heard just a singular thought in his mind, desperate and deliberate:

Keep her safe.

He clung to it like a life raft, syncing his thrusts to its rhythm, chanting it again and again and again. It was a temporary solution; nothing could prevent what was coming. Caspen was pressing her into the mattress; his skin was burning her alive. Despite being soaking wet, Tem felt as if she were straining to take his cock—as if he were growing inside her. He no longer felt the way he always felt. He felt hard?er. Tem remembered the first time she’d stroked him in the cave—how her hand had bled.

Keep her safe. Keep her safe. Keep her safe.

Even his presence in her mind was shifting, changing from something that felt human to something completely foreign to Tem—something animalistic and feral. It gnawed at the edges of her brain, clouding her vision and consuming her consciousness with its insatiable hunger, crushing her— smothering her.

Caspen’s cock was hard and unyielding and ridged , changing into something that was far too big for Tem’s body. It was stretching her—forcing her legs open beyond the point of comfort, far beyond what Tem’s hips could accommodate naturally. Blood joined her wetness.

The fine line between pain and pleasure blurred until it was nonexistent, both sensations twining together in her body and her mind in a indistinguishable thread.

Keep her safe.

But Tem was fading. It had been too long a day; she had been through too much. Hours of sex had left her exhausted, and she was becoming a mere shell of herself.

Keep. Her. Safe.

Her body strained to take him but it was impossible. Caspen was ripping her apart—breaking her, just like Rowe hoped. Every time he pulled away, each ridge of his cock shredded her on its way out before he pushed back in again. Her blood was everywhere. Tem shut her eyes against the wave of panic gripping her like a vice.

Then, with a horrible crack , Tem felt her pelvis break.

Pain slammed into her so sharply that she screamed.

At the sound of her scream, Caspen came with a feral roar—one that shattered her eardrums and cracked the stone walls of the suite. He released such a powerful wave of energy that the basilisks surrounding them knelt in unison, bowing their heads immediately to the floor.

The last thing Tem saw before she blacked out was Bastian walking toward them once more.

. . .

Caspen’s presence returned slowly to her mind, trickling into her skull like water. She barely heard the first time he whispered her name:

Tem.

It was only when he spoke again that his voice became clearer:

Please, Tem. Come back to me.

Tem opened her eyes.

She looked up at Caspen’s dark, concerned face. The only thing she knew was pain.

“Just take it away,” she begged, the words barely a whisper. “Caspen. Please.”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Tem felt the pain subside, and she gasped in relief.It ebbed steadily away as her body stitched itself back together. Nothing had ever felt so good in her entire life. Relief washed over her as the pain in her pelvis retreated and her hip bones realigned.

Tem tried to sit up, but Caspen immediately held her down.

“Lie still,” he said, his voice tight with fear.

Tem allowed her head to fall back on the mattress. They were still in the suite, still surrounded by basilisks. A glimmer of starlight touched her face.

It was midnight.

Caspen gathered her in his arms, lifting her. Nobody stopped them.

Caspen carried her like that through the tunnels, all they way back to his chambers. When he laid her gently on his bed, she saw blood on his legs, and she knew it was hers.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice hoarse.

He shook his head.

“When will you learn that you have nothing to be sorry for? I am sorry.”

Tem could only nod.

Caspen disappeared for a moment before returning with a clean linen. He pulled her legs open gently and began wiping the blood from her thighs. Tem watched him as he did it, and despite her exhaustion, she was struck by his tenderness. The linen was warm and soft. He cleaned every part of her, and when he was done, he ran the towel over his own legs, removing the last traces of the ritual.

Then he looked down at her.

“Can I get you anything, Tem?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I just want you.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. He climbed into bed beside her, pulling her into his arms.

“You have me.”

In response, she kissed him, and for a while that was all they did. But eventual??l?y,Tem wrapped her legs around him. She traced her fingers gently down his cock, coaxing it between her thighs.

“Tem,” Caspen murmured. “It is over. You should sleep.”

But she shook her head.

“Please.”

Caspensighed. “I cannot say no to you, Tem.”

“Then don’t.”

They had sex once more. Just the two of them, alone, with nobody watching. They fucked slowly, with no agenda or deadline. Several times, they stopped just to kiss before starting up again. Caspen brushed his lips softly over every inch of Tem’s skin, pressing kisses to her neck, her wrists, her collarbones. He kissed each of her fingertips one by one, then he kissed the freckles on the palms of her hands. He had already healed her injuries, but it felt as if he were healing her all over again, the cooling pulse of his magic blooming wherever his skin touched hers.

Tem didn’t think she could climax again. Yet somehow, with Caspen thrusting slowly between her legs, she felt herself building toward it once more.

“Caspen,” she whispered.

“Tem,” he whispered back.

She came. A moment later, so did Caspen.She fell asleep while he was still inside her.

Tem awoke in a fog.

Her mind was tired, her body more so. It was as if she had been trampled by a carriage. The moment she opened her eyes, she saw Caspen was already awake, watching her.

“Tem,” his voice was low and hopeful. “How do you feel?”

Tem groaned in response. She was sore everywhere—her back ached; her hips hurt. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was.

Then she remembered.

The events of the previous night rushed over her in a relentless wave, threatening to overwhelm her. She remembered the auditorium, the altar, the king’s body beneath hers. She remembered every single time Caspen had entered her in the public suite, and how by the end of it, she was nearly split in half.

“Tem,” his voice came back to her, its urgency increased. “Please answer me. Are you in any pain?”

She could only nod.

At her response, Caspen sat up. He placed his palm flat on her stomach and closed his eyes. There was a cool pulse, and suddenly the aches disappeared. Tem felt immediately better physically, but she knew he could do nothing for the emotional exhaustion that clouded her brain like smoke.

“Caspen,” she whispered. “Was I enough?”

He opened his eyes, looking at her with boundless reverence.

“You were more than enough. You were extraordinary.”

Her lungs felt as if someone were squeezing them.

“But when we came back here…”

She trailed off. Caspen had carried her back to his chambers after the ritual was over. The memory of the journey was blurry, but Tem knew she hadn’t imagined the blonde woman basilisk who’d sneered at her in the darkness of the tunnel, and she certainly hadn’t imagined what the woman had said to Caspen:

“A mate who must be carried to bed like a child, bleeding and broken. Is this who the prince deems worthy?”

Caspen had snapped immediately back:

“The king deems her worthy. An honor you cannot claim.”

The exchange lasted mere seconds. But the words were seared on Tem’s heart, and she knew she would never forget them.

Caspen’s eyes held hers.

“That was nothing, Tem.”

“It was the truth,” she said quietly.

“It was nothing. Jealous words from a jealous soul.”

“Who is she?”

Now Caspen looked away. She grabbed his chin, pulling his face back to hers as she said:

“You don’t get to keep secrets from me.”

He met her eye. The unsaid portion of her sentence hung in the air between them: Not after what I just did for you. Caspen knew it was the truth just as much as Tem did.

He let out a long breath before saying:

“Her name is Adelaide. She belongs to the Seneca quiver. We have…history.”

Tem knew as well as anyone what “history” meant. It meant they had slept together, and that Adelaide had satisfied him more than Tem ever could.

“Did you love her?” Tem whispered.

“No.”

She looked him in the eye, and she knew he was telling the truth. But that did?n’t make it hurt any less.

“Then why is she so angry?”

“Our values do not align.”

“How so?”

Caspen sighed.

“Must we discuss this, Tem? You have just been through—”

“Yes. We must.”

He sighed again, looking down at her in exasperation.

“Adelaide does not believe basilisks should mate with humans. As a whole, the Senecas do not support it. She has…reservations…about our union.”

“She hates me.”

Caspen rolled his shoulders. “She does not know you well enough to hate you. But yes, she…is not fond of you.”

“She is fond of you .”

“No. I promise you, Tem. It was not like that between us.”

“Like what?”

“Like how it is with you and me. It was never real.”

“But it was physical.”

For what felt like the hundredth time, Caspen sighed. “Yes, Tem. It was physical. But it did not matter. She did not matter. If you choose to be upset over everyone I have ever slept with, there will be no end to your jealousy.”

Tem recoiled. At her reaction, regret flashed across Caspen’s face.

“I do not say that to hurt you. It is merely the truth. You…” he paused, and his thumb brushed over her hip bone. “...know who I am.”

Yes. Tem knew who he was. He was a prince: the future king, and the most desired prospect under the mountain.

“She’s a better match,” Tem whispered.

“No. She is not.”

“She’s a basilisk.”

“That does not make her a better match.”

“But—”

“ Tem ,” his hand squeezed her hip. “Would you mate with a man simply because he is human?”

“We don’t call it mating.”

Caspen let out an exasperated breath. “I am making a comparison. Just because she is a basilisk does not mean we are compatible.”

They both fell silent. His words made logical sense. But there was no logic in her emotions, and it was impossible for Tem not to feel insecure.

“What can I say to make you believe me?” Caspen whispered.

Now Tem sighed. There was nothing he could say, and they both knew it.

“Tem,” he continued. “ You have the king’s blessing.”

She gave him a look.

“And you have mine,” he pressed his lips to her shoulder. “I am in awe of you.”

Tem allowed a small sliver of pride to slip through her. She knew her body would bear the consequences of last night for a long time. But it had been worth it.

“Will your quiver accept me?”

Caspen kissed her skin again.

“If they know what is good for them.”

“When will they make their decision?”

“They have likely already made it. I will speak with my father today.”

“But what happens if—”

“Tem,” he said gently, pulling her closer. “Enough. There is nothing more you can do.”

She fell silent, content simply to breathe for a while. It felt good to lay there—to do nothing but feel Caspen’s arms around her. His lips were right by her ear, and he murmured:

“Can I do anything for you?”

Tem considered the request. Caspen had never asked that of her before, and she was not quite sure how to answer. Instead of speaking, she pressed her palm flat against his chest, trailing her fingers slowly down his torso.

Caspen grasped her hand, stopping her before she could go any lower.

“Anything but that, Tem.”

Shame shot through her.

“Do you not want me?” she whispered.

“Of course I want you,” he intertwined his fingers with hers. “I am merely following tradition.”

“Not more tradition,” Tem groaned.

Caspen chuckled softly.

“This one is quite tame. We are not to sleep together the day after the ritual.”

“Oh.”

For once, a reasonable tradition.

“In that case I should get back to the farm.”

Tem tried to sit up, but Caspen’s arms tightened around her.

“Be still,” he said. “You need to rest.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

His mouth twitched. “You are stubborn.”

They lay in silence for a moment longer.

But Tem could not remain here forever. It was true she had to return to the farm, otherwise her mother would worry. Beyond that, there was still something else to contend with.

The ball.

Tem found it odd that Caspen hadn’t brought up the event, or the fact that she may very well be moving into the castle by the end of the week. Surely, that would have some impact on their engagement. Surely he cared .

“Caspen,” she said slowly, her breath against his cheek.

“Tem.”

“What will happen to us?”

“When?”

Tem shot him a look. She was sure he knew what she meant, but had avoided the truth on purpose. Tem clarified anyway:

“When the prince chooses who will move into the castle.”

“He will choose you.”

The question he answered was not the question she had asked. Tem felt a twinge of annoyance at his evasion.

“How can you be sure?”

Caspen smiled sadly.

“Because you are perfect.”

“If I am perfect, it’s because you made me that way.”

Caspen cupped her chin gently in his hand, looking her in the eye as he said:

“You were already perfect.”

They were beautiful words. But Tem would not be seduced by them.

“Answer the question. What will happen to us?”

Caspen sat up. Tem sat up too, her hand on the great slope of his shoulder, their lips inches apart. When she studied his face, she couldn’t help but compare it to Bastian’s. She could see how Caspen would eventually age—where his cheekbones would sharpen and his hair would tint with silver.

“I do not know what will happen,” he said finally. “My quiver must accept you first. If they do, we can discuss what comes next.”

“I want to discuss it now.”

Caspen stood, crossing to the fireplace. Tem remained on the bed, watching him as he stared into the flames. The muscles in his back rolled as he crossed his arms.

He turned to face her.

“When the prince chooses you, you will move into the castle with the final two girls.”

“ What? ”

Tem had expected him to fight for her—to insist that she drop out of the competition.

His eyes held hers as he continued:

“You will go to the castle and you will stay there until the prince decides to marry you.”

“But why? ”

He turned back to the fire. Tem stood, crossing to him.

“Why did you make me go through the ritual if you have no intention of being with me?”

“I have every intention of being with you, Tem. But my world is dangerous.”

“That’s always been the case.”

“Tem,” his voice dropped. “ I am dangerous.”

The ritual had been traumatic for Tem. But it occurred to her suddenly that it might have been just as traumatic for Caspen. He was the one who had to look at her shattered body and know he was the one who broke her.

She touched his arm.

“I’m fine, Caspen.”

He placed his hand over hers.

“A healed wound still bears a scar.”

Tem understood what he was saying—that although he had healed her body, the memory of the ritual would surely haunt both of them for a long time. But it was over; they had done it. There was no going back—there was only the future, and Tem needed to know how they would spend it.

“Are we never to be together?”

Caspen’s grip tightened.

“There are circumstances surrounding our union that you cannot comprehend.”

“So explain them.”

“Tem,” he sighed. “I do not—”

“Wish to discuss this?” she cut him off, pushing him away. “I never want to hear that from you again. You will discuss anything I request of you, and you will do it right now.”

Caspen sighed.

He knew just as well as Tem that the time for shielding her had passed. She was in this now, and she deserved to know everything. There would be no more secrets between them. Tem needed the truth, and she wouldn’t settle for anything less ever again.

“I have earned the right to honesty, Caspen.”

His eyes met hers.

“That you have.”

It was still a long moment before he spoke. But finally, he said:

“Things are…difficult at the moment between the quivers.”

“Difficult how?”

“There are whispers of a coup.”

“Against your quiver?”

Caspen nodded. “Yes. And by extension, myself.”

“You?”

“I am the one who crested Rowe’s father. I paved the way for my own father to be king.”

“If you know there’s going to be a coup, why don’t you do something aboutit?”

“We are doing something about it. There is a council meeting tonight. My father will try to make peace.”

“How?”

“The coup is not the only circumstance at play. The quivers have always had their troubles, but we are nonetheless united against a common enemy.”

He didn’t have to specify who that enemy was. Tem already knew.

Caspen continued:

“My father has a plan to overthrow the royals. He hopes by doing so, it will quell the rebellion within our own ranks. If the Drakons are the ones to defeat the humans, the Senecas will fall in line.”

Tem felt a dull stab of fear, and realized it was for Leo. There was already friction between the basilisks and the humans. If Bastian planned on fueling that friction into fire, the human prince would be the obvious target.

“And what exactly is your father’s plan?”

“The answer to that is…complicated.”

“Why?”

“Because it involves you.”

Tem blinked.

“ Me? ”

“Yes.”

“But how?”

Caspen reached for her waist. It was not a gentle grip; he held her as if he was afraid she might run away. He stared into her eyes for a long moment before asking softly:

“Have you ever wondered why you cannot lie, Tem?”

She blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“Even when the situation demands it—even when your life depends on it—you always tell the truth. Am I wrong?”

Tem scoffed. “Of course I don’t like lying. Nobody does.”

“It is not that you do not like to lie. You cannot.”

Tem thought about all the times she had lied, and how difficult it had been for her. How her throat had tightened, how she could barely get the words out. She thought about when Leo had asked her if she loved Caspen. How her answer had physically pained her.

Caspen pulled her closer.

“Lying is nearly impossible for a basilisk. It costs us something to do so.”

She stared up at Caspen, who was looking down at her as if he were bracing for impact.

“Why are you saying this to me?” she whispered.

“Twenty years ago a girl left the training process. She was pregnant by her basilisk.”

Tem already knew where this was going. She knew it in her bones. And yet, she whispered:

“No.”

“Yes,” Caspen insisted. “ Yes , Tem.”

Tem wanted to block her ears—wanted to do anything but hear the next thing that came out of Caspen’s mouth:

“Your mother is the one who left.”