CHAPTER ELEVEN #3
Daphne looked into the fire too, staring at the glowing coals.
Between the heat from the flames and the heat from Kronos’s body, she was beginning to sweat.
The instinct to remove her dress had only increased since the urge she’d felt earlier.
It wasn’t just the heat; she wanted to be naked in front of him.
“Whatever you gave him, he will expect more,” Kronos said, oblivious to her struggles. “And if you do not give it willingly, he will take it.”
Dread twisted her stomach. Daphne knew how men were—knew how they acted when you rejected them.
She had seen it many times before. Only, with Maximus, it would surely be worse.
Benjamin only had the power to call her names.
The future king could destroy her. But would he?
Daphne pictured the way he’d watched her in the bathtub, remembering the hunger in his eyes.
She’d denied him then, and he’d liked it.
Daphne was quite sure she could deny him again.
She looked up at Kronos, who was still staring at the fire. Tonight was not about Maximus.
“I didn’t come here to talk about the prince,” she said firmly.
Kronos looked down at her. “Then why did you come here?”
“To spend time with you.”
He raised his eyebrows, but she continued before she lost her nerve. “Do you want me to leave?”
In the silence that followed, they stared at each other.
Daphne wished she had the basilisk ability to know what he was thinking.
Was he angry with her? Or did he want to spend time with her too?
He could have kicked her out long ago. He was the one who’d pulled her into his chambers instead of escorting her back to the cave.
There was something between them. They both felt it, both knew it.
So it did not surprise her when he whispered, “I do not want you to leave.”
Relief coursed through Daphne. “Good,” she whispered back.
At this point, Daphne had no idea where the evening might go. Everything that had happened had been a complete surprise to her. There was really nothing left that could shock her. Thankfully, Kronos spoke next. “How shall we spend our time?”
He was watching her so intently it was almost too much to bear.
“I…don’t know,” she said. “But I’m not going to—”
He finished for her: “Fuck me?”
Daphne jutted her chin up in defiance. “Yes.”
To her surprise, he smiled. “I do not expect you to. And you should know that by now.”
Daphne did know that by now. “I know,” she conceded.
He smiled wider. “Good.”
Despite this positive development, Daphne had no idea what they were supposed to do instead.
She’d never spent time with a man without the end goal of sleeping with him.
It seemed wrong, yet at the same time, somehow right.
Every instinct told her to jump into bed with him.
But that had gotten her nowhere in the past. What she had with Kronos felt different than what she’d had with anyone else.
It felt special. Perhaps there was a chance for intimacy of another kind with him.
She wanted to get to know Kronos on an emotional level.
She suspected he might want the same. This was their chance.
“We could…talk.”
He raised an eyebrow. “About what?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “You choose.”
Kronos tilted his head, and Daphne was hit with the sudden memory of the last time she’d wanted to simply talk.
I was promised free pussy. I don’t want to talk to you.
Why would a basilisk want to talk to her?
Why would anyone? Daphne had never been anywhere or done anything.
She had absolutely nothing to contribute to a conversation that could possibly be of interest to an ancient creature.
Just as she was about to call the entire evening off, Kronos said, “Tell me about your life.”
“Why would you want to hear about my life?”
“Because I am interested in the answer.”
Daphne read the subtext—Because I am interested in you—and smiled. “What do you want to know?”
His eyes pierced hers. “Everything.”
“Ask me something specific.”
Kronos tilted his head the other direction. Firelight shone in his eyes. “Why do you refuse to fuck me?”
Daphne’s throat tightened. “I thought you said you—”
“I am not asking so that I can convince you otherwise. I am asking because I wish to understand your choice.”
Daphne pursed her lips. Her gut told her he was being honest. Still, she was afraid of sharing this part of herself with him. She hadn’t even told Ella the specifics of what happened beneath the bridge. It felt shameful to Daphne, as if it were somehow her fault.
“I want to be in love first.”
It was the only thing she could say without going into detail. At her admission, Kronos’s expression didn’t change. “Why?”
Now Daphne felt as if she might cry. How could she explain it to this beautiful man before her? The memories from that night pressed against her, tightening her chest. You’re pathetic, Daphne. Why would I want anything else from you? Why would anyone want anything else from you?
She couldn’t answer. It was too painful. Somehow, it felt safer to say, “I don’t think I know how to love.”
Kronos shifted closer. “What about your mother?”
“What about her?”
“Do you love her?”
“Of course.”
“Then you know how to love.”
Daphne shook her head. “That’s different. That’s not…” She searched for the words.
Kronos found them for her: “True love.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
That was exactly it. Loving someone was not the same as being in love with them. Surely, it felt different. It had to. But it had never been within reach for her. She was always destined to end up underneath that damn bridge.
“Daphne,” Kronos said quietly. “You are worthy of true love.”
She couldn’t help it. She was going to cry.
The tears fell slowly, then faster and faster. Kronos didn’t touch her. Possibly because he was still naked or possibly because he didn’t want to. Instead he simply stepped closer, and she felt the heat of his body permeate hers. Daphne wished to drown in his warmth.
When she finally recovered, she looked up at him.
Kronos was looking down at her not with pity but with kindness.
In the wake of her admission, Daphne only wanted to tell him more.
It felt good to talk to him, to share a part of herself with someone who cared to hear it.
Building trust was a new sensation for her, and it was one that she liked.
She wondered if Kronos was willing to share a part of himself in return.
“Will you tell me about your life now?”
His mouth twitched. “If that is what you wish.”
Daphne knew next to nothing about the serpents or the way they lived. After the brief preview she’d seen today, she had a hundred questions, and Kronos surely had the answers. “It is.”
“In that case, what do you wish to know?”
She repeated his answer from earlier: “Everything.”
He repeated her words right back. “Ask me something specific.”
Daphne was dying to ask about what she’d seen in the courtyard—about what was allowed under the mountain. But after the conversation they’d just had, sex was the last thing she wanted to talk about. So she asked, “Have you ever petrified someone before?”
“Of course.” He said it easily.
Daphne was reminded suddenly that if he wanted to, he could petrify her right now. For some reason she knew he never would. “But doesn’t it bother you?”
He frowned. “Why would it bother me?”
“Because it’s…violent.”
“I suppose it is violent in a way,” Kronos said slowly. “But it is also the circle of life.”
Daphne frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I am a predator, Daphne,” he said gently. “It is my instinct to kill my prey.”
He was right, of course. But that fact only made their circumstances even more unbelievable. How was it that she, a human, was standing here with him unharmed?
“Do you consider me prey?”
Daphne expected him to hesitate, but he didn’t. She’d barely finished her sentence before Kronos said, “No. I do not.”
“Why? I’m a human, aren’t I?”
“You are,” he said, nodding his head. “But you are not my prey.”
“Then what am I?”
Now silence fell, and Daphne suddenly regretted asking the question. She wondered whether any of his other students had ever asked him anything like that before. Shame and disappointment curled in her at the thought. Nothing could be more embarrassing than asking a basilisk how he felt about her.
Just as she was about to lose all hope, Kronos replied, “You are Daphne.”
He’d said nothing at all, yet he’d said everything she needed to hear. She was not prey to him—not his next meal nor his next conquest. She was a person—someone worthy of his focus, his time, his attention. She was Daphne.
“Am I a predator to you?”
Kronos asked it so quietly that she barely heard him.
At his tone, Daphne realized how dearly he wanted to know the answer.
It was a rare display of vulnerability from Kronos—a moment where he was not in power.
Daphne realized suddenly that he truly cared what she thought.
She decided to grant him the same courtesy he had just granted her, saying with conviction, “No. You are Kronos.”
He smiled. She loved it when he did that.
At some point during their conversation, they migrated to the bed.
They did not lie down, nor did Kronos uncover his cock.
They simply sat facing each other the same way they did on the mat in the caves.
Something about the arrangement brought Daphne comfort.
In an evening of unknowns, this was something she was used to.
She suspected Kronos knew this—she could tell he was being overly cautious with her, as if he were afraid she might change her mind and run away.
There was no chance of that. Daphne felt warm and safe in his chambers, as if she was always meant to be here.
She studied his sculpted body in the firelight, marveling at every angle. Even his scar suited him.
“What are you thinking about?” Kronos murmured.
“How beautiful you are.”