CHAPTER NINE
Daphne
Daphne did not know what to expect the next night in the cave. Her chest felt tight as she traversed the trail, winding through the forest under the bright autumn moon. When she reached the cave Kronos was already there. He stood with his arms crossed, his jaw set.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed. “How was the Showing?”
Daphne blinked. From the way he asked it, it seemed like he already knew the answer. She remembered the sensation she’d felt during the Showing—as if someone was watching her. Was it Kronos? There was only one way to test her theory.
“Why don’t you tell me?”
Tense silence fell.
Daphne waited for Kronos to speak, but he didn’t. In the past, she might have let this go. But this was too important. He was too important. She had to know.
“Kronos,” she said firmly. “Answer me.”
He raised his eyebrow. “Are you commanding me?”
She bit her lip, then nodded. “Yes.”
The other eyebrow rose. This time when the silence dragged, Daphne let it.
It wasn’t fair that he would withhold himself from her like this.
They’d shared plenty together already—conversations that Daphne wouldn’t have expected to have with a basilisk.
She wanted to share more. And if he had been watching her, she deserved to know why.
Slowly, under the protection of darkness, she dared to take a chance.
Daphne reached for Kronos, touching just the tips of her fingers to his forearm.
Kronos stiffened immediately at the contact, but Daphne didn’t stop.
Instead she brushed up his arm, feeling the veins beneath his skin.
He was uncommonly warm, almost as if he were burning from the inside out.
When she reached his bicep, his eyes fluttered shut. “Stop.”
Daphne stopped. It was the first time she’d seen him like this: restrained and tense. Up until now, Daphne had thought she was the one resisting Kronos. Now she wondered whether it was the other way around.
“You never answered my question,” she whispered.
Kronos still did not speak. Instead he raised his other arm, placing his hand over hers and holding her against him. They stood together, firelight flickering between them. Finally, he said, “Yes. I was watching you.”
A thrill surged through her. Part of her was ecstatic at the realization that Kronos cared enough to watch the Showing. The other part of her was terrified of the implications. What did this mean? Surely the other basilisks weren’t watching their students. Surely his behavior was an anomaly.
“Why?” she asked.
“To see whether the prince would choose you.”
The thrill intensified. Was Kronos…jealous?
“He did choose me.”
“So I saw.”
“He also took me to the castle.”
Kronos opened his eyes. He narrowed them. “I do not wish to know the details of your date with the prince.”
Daphne’s heartbeat, already racing, increased to what felt like a single, continuous thrum. “Why not?”
His gaze dropped to her lips. Slowly, his hand moved to her throat, his long fingers wrapping all the way around her neck. Daphne felt immediately calm. Kronos whispered his reply, his breath fanning against her lips. “You know why not.”
But she didn’t. Not at all. Kronos had not made his intentions clear; he was an enigma she did not yet understand.
All she knew was that he was her teacher; all he’d told her was that she needed to compete for Maximus’s hand.
If there was something deeper brewing behind those deep golden eyes, Daphne was not privy to it.
“I only know what you’ve told me.”
He didn’t respond.
“You could…tell me more,” Daphne said tentatively. “If you wanted.”
From the expression on his face, it was clear Kronos didn’t want to. And as much as Daphne might want the opposite, she was also terrified of pushing him any further than she already had tonight. She was so close to clarity. She decided to try just one more time.
“You’re not being fair,” Daphne whispered.
His eyes hardened. “I am not trying to be fair.”
“Then what are you trying to do?”
Kronos dropped his hand. Before it could fall completely, Daphne caught it. She took his long fingers in hers, threading her own through them.
“Kronos,” she whispered. “Are you ever going to open up to me?”
An expression of great pain flashed over his face.
“I cannot.”
That much was abundantly clear.
“But… Do you want to?”
An endless moment passed. The fire crackled beside them. Tentatively, Daphne brushed her thumb over the back of his hand. At the motion, his eyes fluttered shut.
“Yes,” he whispered. “I want to.”
His words were like a lightning strike, filling her with a brightness she couldn’t control.
“Then why can’t you?”
He sighed, his great chest rising and falling.
“If I open up to you, I will draw you into my world.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
“It would be a dangerous thing.”
“For me?”
“For both of us.”
“But how?”
His eyes were still closed as he continued: “The basilisks do not consider humans our equals.”
“Do you consider me your equal?”
He pursed his lips. It was then that Daphne realized Kronos was not just reckoning with his own feelings for her—whatever those may be—he was also reckoning with everything his culture had taught him to think of the humans. Finally, he answered, “I do, Daphne.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
A long pause followed. His answer was a whisper. “It would cost me something to be with you.”
That didn’t surprise her. Of course it would cost him something: status, surely, and certainly the respect of his peers. If basilisks considered the humans to be below them, being with her was a risk. Daphne understood this was not simple for him. But it was not simple for her either.
“It would cost me something to be with you too,” she said honestly. “But… I want to try.”
He shook his head. “You do not know what you want.”
But that wasn’t true. Kronos had perplexed her at first—scared her, even.
Not anymore. Daphne did not look upon his chiseled face with fear; she did not shy away from his penetrating gaze.
She knew very well what she wanted. To choose him would be to choose the path less traveled—the path never traveled.
To choose Kronos would be to choose uncertainty and possibility and adventure.
It was a choice she only wanted to make if he was willing to choose her in return.
Yet the more time she spent with him the more she realized there could be no alternative for her.
Daphne had been ordinary all her life. No one had ever made her feel special; no one had ever made her feel alive.
Kronos made her feel both, and so much more.
Anyone else would not be worth the trouble—not even Maximus, who considered her nothing but a tool to use in his battle against his father.
But Kronos was worth the trouble. The potential of what they could be together was enough for her.
The potential of more. Before she could gather the courage to say as much, Kronos opened his eyes.
“I have never met anyone like you,” he said quietly.
“And… What am I like?”
Kronos let out a low laugh. “Astonishing. Remarkable. Stunningly beautiful.”
Daphne shook her head. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
“I do not say things I do not mean, Daphne. You know I cannot lie. Choose an accolade, and that is what you are like. When I am with you, I no longer understand myself. When I am with you, I feel…free.”
Daphne couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was exactly the way she felt when she was with him. Up until now she’d been quite positive they were not on the same page. Now Kronos was confirming that they were.
“If that’s really the way you feel,” she said slowly, “then why haven’t you acted on it?”
“The way I feel is irrelevant.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because it is true.”
“Then why are you still standing here?”
For the second time tonight, Kronos sighed. This time it was a sigh of utter weariness, as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders.
“I have no choice.”
Daphne frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that sometimes, despite my best intentions, fate intervenes.”
Daphne stared up at him. They were standing so close she could count his eyelashes. The urge to get up on her tiptoes and press her lips to his was nearly irresistible.
“Then maybe you should let it,” she whispered.
Kronos shook his head. He was resisting her; Daphne knew what it looked like when a man was on the brink.
She wondered what it would take to push him over the edge.
Gently, she pressed her palm to his chest, directly over the Y-shaped scar.
His skin was warm—far warmer than she’d expected.
His heartbeat was slow and steady, the exact opposite of hers.
She leaned in. So did he.
Their lips were an inch apart when suddenly Kronos stopped. He asked sharply: “Did the prince kiss you?”
Daphne blinked in surprise. She was still touching his chest. “I…thought you didn’t want to hear details.”
“Now I do.”
“Why?”
His jaw tightened. “I wish to know what I am up against.”
It was an astonishing admission from Kronos.
“You care whether we kissed.”
Daphne said it with confidence even though it terrified her to do so.
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand,” Daphne whispered. “Why?” she asked again.
As much as it pained her to admit it, she desperately needed to know the answer.
Daphne had never been anyone’s first choice—never been desired for anything beyond a stint under the bridge.
Yet she was quite sure that was not what Kronos wanted from her.
It was true he wanted to fuck her—he’d said so himself.
But that was not all he wanted. They wouldn’t be having this conversation if it was. His answer was not what she expected.
“Because you unmoor me, Daphne. I am…reckless when it comes to you.”
Reckless was the last word she would use to describe Kronos. But she knew he must be telling the truth. And if he was telling the truth, that meant he felt something for her. The air between them seemed to grow warmer. A bead of sweat slid down her spine as Kronos leaned in.
“Tell me, Daphne. Did he kiss you?”
She stared up at him, his eyes blazing into hers.
“What would you have done if he had?”
Anger hardened Kronos’s gaze.
“I would have acted accordingly.”
Daphne had no idea what that meant. Before she could ask, he pulled away, staring into the flames with his fists clenched.
Daphne wanted to touch him again but didn’t dare.
Why had she said that? Perhaps some part of her wanted to test him—to see how reckless he really was.
Daphne did not know what Kronos was capable of.
He’d only asked whether they’d kissed; he knew nothing of what she’d done in Maximus’s bathtub—how she’d touched herself in front of him—how she’d come.
What would he do if he knew about that? Before she could decide how to fix what she’d broken, Kronos said, “Go home, Daphne.”
“But I—”
“Go home before I do something I regret.”
Daphne had no idea what that might be. A moment ago, Kronos had been an inch away from kissing her.
Now his posture was tense, his face turned pointedly toward the fire.
Daphne wondered whether she should apologize, although she didn’t know what for.
Before she could say another word, Kronos turned and disappeared into the darkness.