Chapter Thirty-Seven
Everything was a blur.
“There will be a celebration now,” Adelaide continued. “Both quivers will attend.”
Tem nodded, barely registering her words.
“You did well.” Adelaide’s hand was on her waist, guiding her out of the arena. “The Drakons are thrilled.”
Tem didn’t know what to do with that information. If the Drakons were thrilled, it meant the Senecas were furious. It meant Rowe was furious. Victory for one quiver meant defeat for the other. The tournament was supposed to make everything right. This outcome did nothing of the sort.
“I need to see Caspen.”
“You will,” Adelaide said. “And soon. He will be at the celebration.”
It wasn’t soon enough. Tem desperately needed to look into his eyes and know that they were going to make it through this, that she had performed adequately—that Caspen did not notice the gap of time between when she drank from the chalice and when she had made her decision.
Tem’s battle had been silent. To anyone watching, absolutely nothing unexpected had happened.
Tem had been given a choice, and she had chosen Caspen.
Only Apollo knew the truth. Tem scanned the crowd for him, but he was nowhere to be found.
Was he talking to Caspen? Telling him of her deception?
Tem still didn’t understand what Apollo had done in order to make it so that she could choose Caspen.
All she knew was that her love for Leo—the thing that anchored her—was gone.
When she thought of him, she felt indifferent, as if he were a casual acquaintance or a friend.
It was bizarre to think of him that way. It was wrong.
By now, they had reached the lake. It was already filled with basilisks, all of them holding goblets of elixir. Rowe was nowhere to be found. Neither was Eros. Tem wondered whether they had left already. Before she could ask Adelaide about it, an arm was around her shoulder.
“Dearest,” Gabriel cried, pulling her close. “That was quite the performance. Who knew you had it in you?”
Behind him, Damon smiled. He’d watched the ritual; he knew exactly what Tem had in her.
“I can’t believe you’re allowed to fuck your husband’s brother,” Gabriel continued.
Tem smacked him on the arm. “Gabriel.”
“And for so long too.”
She smacked him again.
“What? I’m impressed. You should be studied. Scholars would marvel at your stamina.”
Tem rolled her eyes. Then her heart stopped.
There, walking toward her, was Caspen. Beautiful, stunning, glorious Caspen.
The same thing she’d felt for him during the tournament surged through her once more. Tem loved him. That was truth; that was real. She needed to touch him, and now she could. Tem ran toward him with all her might, knowing he would catch her.
The moment she reached him, everything fell away. Caspen’s hands lifted her up, his lips pressed against hers. They spun around together, clinging to one another, one body instead of two. Tem could have kissed him forever. Maybe she would.
Caspen set her down, cradling her face in his hands. His skin drew sparks from hers. “I love you.”
Tem stared up into his golden eyes. “I love you too.”
Then he was inside her.
For the first time, Tem understood just how much Caspen normally catered to her pleasure.
Usually there was a buildup, a slow crescendo into sex that started with foreplay and ended with penetration.
He did none of that now. Now he fucked her like she was the last person on earth—like he was suffocating and she was the air he breathed.
He held her so tightly, she thought she might break.
His fingers dug valleys into her thighs.
Tem welcomed it all, pulling him only closer, knowing he needed this even more than she did, knowing he needed to claim her.
Tem had no idea what it was like for him to watch her with Apollo.
But now, with Caspen’s cock inside her, she remembered how all other cocks paled in comparison.
Caspen filled her; Caspen fulfilled her.
No one else could fuck her like this. No one else could dive so deep inside her.
Tem welcomed him into every part of her body—every part of her soul.
Caspen was hers, and she was his. They belonged to each other.
Her climax left her gasping for air. Caspen was out of breath too, his face buried against her neck, his hands twisted in her hair. His mind joined with hers:
We will go slow next time, Tem. I just…needed you.
Tem pulled him closer. I needed you too. I never want to go without touching again.
We will not. You have my word.
He promised it with every kiss, assured her with every caress.
Caspen knew how to make everything better—knew how to turn Tem’s world back on its axis.
He was still inside her, still hard. He kept his word; this time, they went slow.
The celebration raged around them, and they both ignored it.
Nothing else mattered; no one else mattered.
Caspen laid her down in the sand, thrusting into her with limitless patience.
Even after she came again, Tem held him only closer, needing him over and over again.
Eventually, she could take no more. Caspen kissed her as he pulled out, both of them clinging to the other with desperate certainty.
His fingers laced once more through hers, pulling her up from the sand.
Tem wasn’t fully present—she was lazy and dazed from sex, her wetness dripping smoothly down her thighs.
She didn’t bother wiping it away; she had no desire to remove any evidence of her congress with Caspen.
When they were upright, Caspen spun her around before kissing her on the cheek. She was not used to seeing him like this: loose and undone. He was usually so reserved; his joy was rare. But now he smiled freely, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked at her with pure, unencumbered love.
“I’ve never seen you so happy,” Tem said.
“I am always happy when I am with you.”
“You’re acting drunk.”
“You have never seen me drunk, my love.”
Tem realized he was right. “I’d like to.”
He smiled down at her. “Shall we do it together?”
Tem was sorely tempted. She’d tried the elixir enough times to know how it affected her; perhaps it was time to indulge in it properly. After the events of the tournament, she wanted nothing more than to be numb.
“Yes.” Tem stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Please.”
“Very well. Do not move. I will return with elixir.”
A moment later, he was gone. No sooner had he disappeared than someone said her name:
“Temperance.”
Tem turned. “Apollo,” she said quietly. “What did you do?”
A long silence followed. Tem resisted the urge to ask him again; she knew he would tell her. This was too important not to discuss. But Apollo said, “Not here.”
Tem didn’t bother arguing. She simply followed him out into the passageway.
Apollo turned to face her. “I performed an extraction.”
“An extraction?” The word was foreign to Tem. It sounded violent. Medical, almost.
“Yes.”
“But what does that mean? Why do I feel so…?”
“Empty?”
She looked up at him. “Yes.”
“I took your love for the human king.”
Tem blinked. “Took it?”
“Yes.”
“So it’s just…gone?”
“I did not say that I disposed of it. Only that I took it from you.”
“Oh.”
Tem was having trouble wrapping her head around the fact that her love for Leo was something that could be taken.
But then she remembered how Caspen had once placed his hand on her chest and taken her desire away—how basilisks were able to manipulate emotions and remove them at will.
Love was an emotion, was it not? There was no reason why it couldn’t be taken like anything else.
“So that’s why I was able to choose Caspen?”
“Yes.”
“And nobody else knows that I…?”
“Love another?” He turned to her, his eyes dark. “No. They do not.”
Tem stared at him. “I can’t believe you did that for me,” she whispered.
“It is not a permanent solution,” Apollo said. “It must be given back. And quickly.”
“Oh,” Tem said again. There was a pause, and in it, she half expected him to give it back right that moment. But Apollo was looking at her with a peculiar expression on his face, as if he had just figured something out.
“What?” she prompted.
He didn’t answer. Instead he stepped closer, his brows furrowed. “You did not tell me the extent of your feelings for him.”
“Excuse me?” Tem had told him that she was in love with Leo. That was pretty much the extent of her feelings for him.
“You did not tell me that you crested him. Or that you have yet to consummate it. You did not tell me that his life hangs in the balance.”
Tem’s mouth fell open. “How do you know that?”
Apollo pressed his hand to his chest. “It is right here.”
She stared up at him. He’d gleaned all that just from extracting her love for Leo?
If she’d known he was going to find that out, she never would have let him back inside her mind.
Up until now, this had been her burden to bear—a secret only she knew the consequences of.
Even Adelaide, her closest confidant, was not aware of the extent of it.
But now that Apollo knew it too, Tem felt…
relief. And also fear. What if he told Caspen?
But Apollo would not do that. The time had come, finally, to trust that he wanted what was best for his brother and also what was best for her.
Apollo was selfless in that way. He hid behind a facade of carelessness, but underneath it all, Apollo cared about Caspen, and he cared about his family.
He was a fierce protector—that much was abundantly clear—and he had done the unthinkable in order to ensure Caspen’s victory.
He’d placed his brother’s feelings over his own—he’d acted selflessly. That was a person she could trust.
“I must give it back, Temperance. I have no desire to hold on to this lie.”