Chapter Thirty-Six #2
It is not enough to fuck you just this once, Temperance.
I want you as many times as I can have you.
I will do anything you want. Anything. Just let me fuck you again.
I want to fuck you in my bed. I want to bend you over and fuck you in the banquet hall for everyone to see.
I want to lick your cunt. I need to taste you, Temperance.
I need to come inside you. I need to come on your back and on your tits and in your mouth and on your hands.
I cannot live without those hands, Temperance.
I need them on me. I need them on my cock.
You have no idea what it is like to look at you and not be able to touch you.
Every day I want you and every day I cannot have you.
It is agony. You parade around with your perfect cunt and your perfect tits and you do not let me fuck you and I cannot take it anymore, Temperance.
His words were crude. But that was Apollo.
I cannot look at you without growing hard.
It was agony to watch my brother fuck you in front of me.
I wanted to rip you away from him—I wanted to put you on my own cock instead.
You do not understand what it is like to be around you and unable to fuck you.
It is all I think about. It is all I need.
I think about you every time I am with another woman.
None of them satisfy me the way you do. I have lived hundreds of years, and your cunt is the best I have ever touched.
I want to run my tongue over it. I want to taste you, Temperance.
I want to spit in your mouth. I want to see you take my cock from behind.
I want to watch it stretch you until you are begging for more.
I want those pretty lips on mine. I want to bite them until they bleed.
Are you going to let me do that, Temperance?
Are you going to let me fuck you again? Just this once is not enough for me.
I need you again and again and again. I need you every fucking day and night. I need you. I need you. I need you.
He was not sentimental, like Caspen, or romantic, like Leo. He was domineering and controlling and he needed her like this—desperate, at his mercy—in order to get off. Tem didn’t care. Tem was ready to come. Apollo had only one more thing to say, and Tem could have guessed it in her sleep:
You first.
Tem was already coming. She threw her head back in victory, her fingers gripping him so hard she knew it would cause him pain.
But that was the way it was between them: she and Apollo were not soft or tender.
They were wild and rough, and it wasn’t sustainable, but it was real and it was now and Tem needed it.
Apollo gripped her too, squeezing her ass and leaving bruises, pinning her on his cock so she could not escape.
She didn’t want to anyway. Pain kept her sane; pain meant she was alive.
Kora, Kora, Kora, Kora—
He was calling Kora’s name. But for some reason, it felt like he was calling Tem’s.
Apollo was nearly there. Just before his moment of climax, Tem placed her lips right against the shell of his ear so there was no possible way he would miss her saying, “Good boy.”
Apollo groaned. Then he came.
His hips hitched beneath hers, driving his cock deep into Tem’s center as his release poured out of him and into her. Tem closed her eyes, feeling the rich warmth, allowing herself to drown in it.
When she opened her eyes, Apollo’s stared back at her.
She smiled, and so did he. It seemed like the time to kiss him had passed, like their moment was ending.
But Tem did it anyway, pressing her lips gently to his.
It was the complete opposite of the aggressive way they’d been kissing just moments ago. This was intimate; this was slow.
Tem traced his tongue with hers. You taste like peaches.
Do I?
Yes.
Fascinating. He sucked on her bottom lip, pulling it between his. You taste like the sea.
Tem shouldn’t have been surprised by his answer. Caspen had once told her she’d smelled like the sea. Why shouldn’t she taste like it as well?
Does the sea taste good?
He smiled, releasing her lip. It does.
With that, their moment was over.
Tem looked around the arena, blinking at the sudden rush of sound. Being with Apollo was like being in a tunnel: close and suffocating. Now Tem felt as if someone had lifted the curtain, and she was suddenly reminded that they were in an arena full of basilisks, in the middle of the tournament.
Apollo lifted her slowly off his cock, and Tem knew he was letting her feel every inch of him as he slid out of her.
She realized suddenly that her knees were bleeding; the friction of the sand had torn them to shreds.
Apollo pressed his palms against them, healing them with a cooling rush.
Then he pressed a tiny, gentle kiss to each one.
The gesture surprised Tem. It was not in his nature to nurture.
She didn’t think they had the type of relationship that warranted aftercare.
For the first time, she wondered if she was seeing yet another new side of him: a side of tenderness.
He took her hands in his, brushing his fingers over her freckles.
They stood together, looking out at the crowd.
Despite the deafening hiss, there was no hive orgasm this time.
But that didn’t surprise Tem. Her and Apollo were not her and Caspen.
Their union would not incite the same reaction that she had brought forth during the ritual.
A face stood out to her in the crowd: the new mother who had given her blessing to Apollo.
She was descending the steps and entering the arena.
The rest of the contenders were all standing, turning to face Tem.
Caspen was still in the stands, and something told Tem he would remain there.
She looked up at him, reaching for him with her mind even though she knew he couldn’t hear her.
What did he think of what he’d just seen? Tem would find out soon enough.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Adelaide approaching.
“Well done, Temperance,” she said. “You have completed the tiers. It is time for your heart to make its choice.”
Against her instincts, Tem glanced at Apollo. He was looking at Caspen.
By now, the new mother had reached them. It was then that Tem noticed she held a goblet in her hand, similar to the goblet of elixir. Only this chalice contained a different liquid, one that Tem had seen many times in the village, in bottles held by babies.
The woman held it out to her.
Tem turned questioningly to Adelaide.
“She offers you a holy substance,” Adelaide said, “the ultimate symbol of life. Nothing is more sacred to us. Once you drink it, your heart will make its choice.”
Tem looked once more at Caspen.
“It will force you to be truthful,” Adelaide said quietly. “So make sure you are ready.”
The woman nodded at Tem. Tem nodded back. Was her prediction about to come true? Only Kora could tell. She took the goblet, tilted her head, and drank.
Immediately, something tugged at her—a physical sensation, yanking her chest in two directions.
She felt an undeniable pull toward Caspen—so strong it nearly hurt, straining against her rib cage.
It was not unlike the sensation she’d felt before, on the night before the training began.
Caspen had come to her in a dream, his presence as warm and as real as a flame.
She’d been drawn to him then and she was drawn to him now, her body turning in his direction.
But Caspen was not the only draw.
Something else pulled her heart’s focus: someone else. As strong as the sensation she felt for Caspen was the sensation she felt for someone who wasn’t even here.
She loved them both. She always had.
Tem threw herself into her basilisk side, concentrating on nothing but the way she felt for Caspen, willing it to take over her.
She thought of the night they met, how they’d undressed in front of each other; how she’d known, even then, that their paths were destined to cross.
She thought of his body and the way it conformed to hers.
They fit together perfectly, the way two lovers should.
It was not enough.
Leo crept in, as he always did. She thought of his hair, his laugh, his gold incisors.
She pictured the way his hands grasped his whiskey glass: tightly, so his veins stood out.
Tem thought of their time together, how she had fallen for him slowly, almost against her will. But she had fallen nonetheless.
Temperance, Apollo’s voice came to her. You are taking too long. What is happening?
Tem shook her head. It was too much effort to speak.
This wasn’t supposed to be happening; her heart wasn’t supposed to call to two people. The tournament was supposed to force her to choose—to solve this once and for all.
Instead, it was splitting her in half.
Is it the human king?
It was. But it was also Caspen.
Do you love him more than my brother?
I love them both equally.
That is not possible. You must love one of them more.
But she didn’t. They both held equal value to her. It wasn’t possible to compare them—to tally Leo’s qualities next to Caspen’s.
I can’t choose.
You must.
I can’t hurt Caspen.
Are you saying you want the human king?
She wanted them both.
It will not just hurt him. It will destroy him. I know my brother, Temperance. He cannot live without you.
Tem shook her head. She couldn’t fathom it, couldn’t imagine doing that to Caspen. She would stop loving Leo—she had to.
But she couldn’t. Not right now, not ever.
Not when his presence permeated everything she did, not when he was always at the forefront of her mind—not when she didn’t even want to.
Tem felt the crest pulling them together, forcing her hand.
It didn’t matter that she’d sent him away.
It didn’t matter that he was with Evelyn now.
Her heart called to him. Her heart would not be tamed.
Apollo, please. Help me.
You must choose, Temperance.
I can’t.
You must.
I CAN’T.
YOU MUST.
But he was asking the impossible. Not even an arena full of basilisks and the pressure of the tournament could change the way she felt about the human king. Tem would sooner stop breathing than stop loving Leo.
And perhaps that’s what it would take.
This was killing her anyway. If Tem was going to die, it may as well be at her own hand.
All would be solved. Caspen would mourn her, then move on.
Leo would be with Evelyn. She would not have to be with Rowe or Apollo or anyone else.
Life would go on without her, and everyone would be better off for it.
She looked up at Caspen, who was looking down at her.
His mind was closed off, per the rules of the tournament.
But she tried to reach him anyway, willing the corridor between them to open.
His brow was furrowed. Tem could understand his confusion.
Caspen would have no idea why she was hesitating—no context for the battle currently waging within her heart.
Only Apollo knew what was going on. He was still here, still in her mind. Tem needed to shut him out.
No, Temperance—do not—
She slammed the barrier between them, concentrating on the urge forming in her gut.
If her human side loved Leo, then that was what she would kill.
She would use her basilisk side to destroy it, to extinguish the part of her that was unfaithful.
Tem closed her eyes, willing herself to kill.
If she could crest herself to gain power, surely she could also do the opposite.
Surely she could destroy her human side before it destroyed her.
Apollo tore violently at her mind, ripping at the barrier she’d built to keep him out. He was strong—and so determined. His roar of disapproval shattered her concentration, forcing her to hear him as he yelled, If you will not choose, then I will.
Tem didn’t know what that meant. All she knew was that one moment she was fine, and the next Apollo was touching her. Then a knife pierced her heart.
It felt like something had been removed—like Apollo had taken something from her.
The way she felt for Leo—her love—was gone.
There was still love left, but it was all for Caspen.
The moment it happened, everything in Tem surged toward Caspen.
The sensation was so strong that she fell immediately to her knees, her arms clutched to her chest. She screamed his name—whether aloud or in her mind, she did not know.
The crowd roared, and Tem knew it was over.
Adelaide’s voice came to her through the noise. “Congratulations, Temperance. Your heart has made its choice.”