CHAPTER THREE
Daphne
The moment Daphne got home from the caves, she went straight to her room to touch herself.
It wasn’t the way she’d expected to end her evening, and yet after meeting Kronos, there was no other possible course of action.
Daphne imagined what it would be like to pull down his trousers, to behold the cock he was so proud of.
Surely, it was impressive. The outline she’d seen already was enough to intrigue her.
She wanted to see the entire thing. She remembered what Kronos had said he would do to impress her: I would put my cock in your pussy. Then she pictured him doing it.
She wondered if Kronos was doing the same.
The next day was spent helping her mother with her work.
Daphne came from a long line of seamstresses.
Customers brought their coats that needed mending, their socks that needed darning.
From a young age, Daphne had learned how to fix things.
It was easy to lose herself in the rhythm of sewing, to understand life just one stitch at a time.
On days like these, she was grateful for the distraction.
By the time it was evening, she was utterly distraught. Nothing she did soothed her anxiety—no amount of chores or sewing was enough to quiet the maelstrom in her mind. All Daphne could think about was Kronos.
She traversed the trail to the caves with a surety she did not understand, putting one foot in front of the other as quickly as she could.
When she reached the base of the mountain, she paused.
Daphne knew she was being stupid, that she was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.
There was no worse thing to be around a basilisk.
And for some reason, she wanted him to respect her, to view her as an equal.
It was an absurd desire, and she tried to suppress it.
But as she entered the cave, she found that she couldn’t.
She was so eager to see him—to feel his eyes on hers.
He looked the same as he did the night before: regal, proud, sinfully gorgeous. His long wavy hair was thrown back over his shoulders, his golden eyes piercing the air between them.
“Daphne,” he said. Her name from his lips was like a church bell. It called to her.
“Kronos,” she said back.
“How are you this evening?”
Nervous. Terrified. Absolutely out of her mind.
“Fine.”
He nodded. “Good.”
There was a pause.
Then Kronos extended his hands to her, palm up. “Will you join me?”
Daphne looked down at his hands, which were unreasonably enormous. She noticed he had a unique pattern of freckles—twelve on each palm, three beneath every finger except for his thumbs.
It was such a specific arrangement of pigment that she paused to stare at it, not even realizing that the silence had dragged until he said, “Daphne?”
Her gaze snapped up to his. “Yes?”
“Will you join me?” he asked again.
“Of course,” she said quickly. “Sorry.”
She followed him to the mat, which she still wasn’t quite keen on sitting on, but she figured they were past the point of protest. They sat facing each other, just as they had the last time. Kronos spoke first.
“Are you sure I cannot bring you food?”
Daphne shook her head. “I don’t need it.”
Kronos nodded, although he still looked concerned.
Before he could offer again, Daphne said, “Did you have a good day?”
It was the first thing she could think to ask, and as soon as she said it, she wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Kronos was not her husband coming home from work—he was a deadly basilisk who could kill her with a single glance.
Yet to her surprise and utter relief, Kronos smiled.
“I did. Did you?”
“Yes,” Daphne said. It was hardly the truth—she’d spent the day having what could only be described as a singular, drawn-out panic attack.
Kronos seemed to know she was lying because he laughed softly. “Is that right?”
Daphne crossed her arms, suddenly self-conscious.
She was acutely aware of the way he was looking at her as if he could see into her soul.
He’d opted not to wear a shirt this time, and the sight of so much bare skin was making Daphne rather warm.
She wished he wasn’t wearing anything at all.
The urge to touch him was so tempting it was almost a physical sensation, tingling in her fingertips.
She wondered whether that was a result of his mysterious basilisk magic or whether it was fully her own desire.
“Yes. That’s right.”
Kronos smiled. “What did you do?”
Was he actually…asking her about her day? “I…sewed.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You…sewed?”
“Yes.”
“What did you sew?”
It was a completely normal question. More than warranted.
Yet somehow it felt like a significant inquiry, and Daphne couldn’t help but pretend that it meant he was deeply interested in the intricacies of her life.
“Lots of different things. My mother is a seamstress, and I help her out with her work.”
Kronos nodded. “I see.”
Daphne nodded too. Then silence fell, and she attempted to look anywhere but at his tantalizing expanse of exposed chest.
“Have you changed your mind?” he asked presently.
She frowned. “About what?”
“About fucking me?”
Her mouth fell open. Heat bloomed on her cheeks. “No,” she said firmly. “I haven’t.”
“That is a shame,” he said.
Daphne could not fathom how to reply to that.
He made her so unsteady, as if she were walking on a tightrope over open water.
There was something about the way Kronos looked at her that made her quite sure he would take her passionately if he could.
She shook her head, trying to clear it. Basilisks were known for their powers of seduction.
It was his nature to make her feel this way. It meant nothing.
“Why is it a shame?” she managed to say.
Kronos shifted, and her eyes darted immediately to the bulge between his legs. He was hard again. “Because I wish to see you naked.”
If she had been flustered before, she was downright feral now. Daphne hoped dearly that he couldn’t tell how turned on she was by his admission.
“Do you not wish to see me naked too?” Kronos continued.
Her blush deepened. Of course she wanted to see him naked.
It was all she wanted, and she’d wanted it ever since the first moment she met him.
But that didn’t mean she could have it. Then again, they were supposed to be having sex.
In all the other caves, the girls were naked.
Daphne was the outlier. She decided to answer honestly: “I…do.”
He smiled. “In that case, shall I undress?”
His hands went to the waistband of his trousers, beginning to pull them down.
“No,” Daphne cried.
Kronos paused, raising a single eyebrow. The trousers had been lowered exactly two inches, and it took all of her self-control not to look at what they revealed.
“Please don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s going to…tempt me.”
“Temptation is not a bad thing.”
“It is when it leads to other things.”
“Who said we would do other things? I only offered to undress.”
She shot him a look. “That’s the first step to everything else, and you know it.”
He shot her a look right back. “Do not tell me what I know.”
When Daphne didn’t reply, Kronos let go of the waistband of his trousers. They remained low, but not low enough to reveal anything.
“You are a curious creature, Daphne,” he said.
No one had ever referred to her as a creature before. The word was more fitting for him. “Why?”
“Most humans are not so strong.”
Daphne sighed. She wasn’t strong. Every moment she sat here was a moment she came closer to giving in. But she was a woman of her word, and she had made a promise to herself. She wasn’t going to break it, even for Kronos.
“I am very patient,” he said, still smirking. “You will give in eventually.”
Daphne shook her head. “I’m never going to change my mind.”
He tilted his head. “Never is a long time, Daphne.”
Didn’t she know it.
When she failed to reply, Kronos leaned forward. “It is risky to deal in absolutes when you cannot predict the future.”
That was some basilisk bullshit if she’d ever heard it. “Do you always speak like that?”
“Like what?”
“In riddles.”
Kronos let out an incredulous huff. “I do not speak in riddles.”
“You absolutely do.”
“I speak the truth.”
“By using riddles.”
He sighed, and the sound was so familiar Daphne laughed. It was a sigh she’d heard many times before—from her mother, from the teachers at school. The sigh of utter exasperation.
At her laugh, Kronos crossed his arms. His muscles flexed. “It is no fault of mine that your human mind cannot comprehend my intelligence.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“If you are so fascinated by my riddles, solve this: What cannot be touched but can be broken?”
Daphne blinked. She’d heard plenty of riddles before—usually from Steve, the bartender at the Horseman after he’d had a few too many meads—but never that one. She frowned. “I don’t know, what?”
Kronos raised his eyebrows. “Do you not care to guess?”
Daphne shrugged. “I want to know the answer.”
“It is not only the destination that matters. There is value in the journey.”
“Oh, come on.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I can’t believe you think you don’t talk in riddles when you say shit like that.”
Kronos looked genuinely offended at her outburst. “It is not shit,” he said emphatically. “It is the truth.”
“Basilisks love the truth.”
It wasn’t a question—merely an observation given the topics they’d covered so far.
“Yes,” Kronos nodded. “We do.”
Daphne nodded too. “What else do you love?”
For some reason, he stilled. His deep golden eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”
“You’re a stranger,” Daphne said. “We’re getting to know each other, aren’t we?”
It was a genuine question—she wasn’t quite sure he wanted to get to know her at all.
Yet he was still here, wasn’t he? He could have left long ago.
So could Daphne. They were both sitting here, inches apart, in front of a crackling fire.
It was more intimate than anything she’d experienced with another human being.