Chapter Ten #3
Tem thought about the bloodlust she’d seen in their eyes—the way they’d stormed the guards on the steps of the church. She thought about how good Gabriel was at organizing. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I do.”
The first war between the humans and the basilisks had been won with mirrored shields, after all. It was the humans, at the end of the day, who had prevailed. Why couldn’t they do so again?
“If that is true, you should not have gone in the first place.”
“I didn’t mean to. It just sort of happened—”
“You should know better than to endanger yourself when you are the queen.”
“But I—”
Caspen placed his hands on either side of her head. “I love you,” he whispered, his breath fluttering over her face. “But I cannot protect you from every threat.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” she insisted. “I promise.”
“You cannot make such a promise.”
Finally, Tem understood what this was about. Caspen was scared for her. He’d seen his family and his people get massacred by the humans for centuries. Now, with tensions rising, he didn’t want the same thing to happen to her.
“I’m fine, Caspen. It’s Gabriel that I’m worried about. And my parents.”
Caspen shook his head. “Your parents are under our protection. They will not be harmed.”
“And Gabriel?”
Caspen pursed his lips.
Tem squared her shoulders. “He’s my best friend, Caspen. I don’t want him to starve because of me.”
“He will not starve.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I will always protect those you love, Tem. And if you believe otherwise, you do not know me at all.”
The fire crackled beside them. Tem didn’t know what to say to that. She knew Caspen would protect her. But she didn’t always believe he’d protect the people she loved. Especially when the people she loved wanted to hurt him.
Caspen sighed, and some of the tension left his shoulders. “I will not let anything happen to them,” he finished quietly. “I promise.”
Tem couldn’t meet his eye. She had heard many promises in her life. Mostly by men. She hoped dearly that Caspen would keep this one. A moment of silence passed. Caspen’s fingers traced her face again, touching the spot where the bruise had just been.
“You must be careful,” he whispered.
She sighed. “I am careful. It was just an accident.”
He shook his head. “If they try to hurt you, I will turn the entire village to stone.”
Rather than comforting her, this statement did the opposite. “How can you say that? Wasn’t once enough?”
“You belong to us now,” Caspen said firmly.
It was a truth Tem wasn’t yet ready to acknowledge.
When she didn’t reply, he whispered, “You must protect yourself, Tem.”
“How? You won’t teach me.”
The words just slipped out. Caspen’s eyebrows rose, then furrowed. “Petrification is not protection.”
Tem just shook her head. This was not an argument she was going to win, and yet she wanted to argue it anyway. “Why not?”
Tem wasn’t even sure why she was pushing this.
She’d never given much thought to petrification—it was technically murder, after all.
And Tem had no desire to be a murderer. But she did desire to learn everything there was to know about her basilisk side.
If Caspen wanted her to protect herself, this was the best way to do it.
“But what if I need to do it someday? What if I’m in danger?”
“You will never be in danger when I am with you.”
“But you’re not always with me.”
Caspen hesitated, and she knew she had him. It was impossible for him to protect her all the time—more impossible still if he was going to be absent for long hunting periods, as he had been tonight. Indignation rose suddenly within her.
It was unfair of Caspen to withhold such pivotal knowledge. Every other basilisk under the mountain knew how to petrify. But not Tem. “What do you expect, Caspen? That I’ll never petrify anyone?”
He didn’t answer.
Tem stepped closer. “You can’t keep this from me forever. It isn’t right.”
“Enough, Tem. We will discuss this another time.”
“But—”
“I said that is enough.”
Tem pursed her lips. She wasn’t only upset about the petrification. That was just one problem in a growing list of things that were pressing in on her like an avalanche—Evelyn’s obstinance, the protest she’d seen tonight, Apollo’s advances. It was becoming too much, and it had all just begun.
A moment of silence fell as they stared at each other.
Tem raised her hand and gently brushed the leaves from his shoulder, savoring the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips.
Caspen closed his eyes as she did it, and she knew he was savoring it too.
This was all it took with Caspen: one touch, and she would forgive him.
It didn’t matter that they were out of step, that things were rapidly reaching a boiling point.
All that mattered was that they were together now.
Tem drew him into a kiss.
The moment it deepened, he pulled away. “Not now, my love.”
She couldn’t believe he was denying her sex. It was unheard of. “Why not?”
“Because we are already running late.”
“For what?”
“Mating season.”