CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Daphne
The letter was on her bed when she returned from the castle.
Daphne,
Come to me.
—K
Daphne stared at it in disbelief. The Frisky Sixty had just ended; it hardly seemed like the appropriate moment to go see Kronos.
The sight of Maximus, the future king, cock in his hand, was still burned in her brain.
He’d been so hard. For her. Daphne attempted to suppress the flush that flooded her face, but it was useless.
She couldn’t deny that the sight had turned her on.
Neither of them could deny it. Maximus had been just as aroused as she was—if not more so.
Daphne wondered if he had touched himself again after she left.
Part of her hoped he had. She did not need to slip her fingers between her legs to know that she was wet too.
It was an inevitability—an unavoidable truth.
The Frisky Sixty had revealed them both.
And now Kronos wanted to see her.
Daphne crumpled the note in her hand. She wanted to tear off her dress, lie on the bed, and touch herself until she came.
But Kronos was waiting, and she wanted to see him far more than she wanted to think about Maximus.
What if something was wrong? Or, more enticingly, what if he was jealous?
He’d seemed that way earlier, asking whether she would undress for the prince.
She hadn’t undressed for Maximus. But she might as well have.
Perhaps she hadn’t revealed her skin, but she’d revealed herself in other ways.
Daphne didn’t even know why she’d done it.
The sight of him naked before her had simply been too tempting—too appetizing to resist. It wasn’t that she’d wanted to touch him.
That hardly mattered to her. She’d wanted to control him—to see what she could make him do.
It was a power she’d never wielded before, and she was eager to wield it again.
Usually men were the ones telling Daphne what to do, and she always did it.
Tonight was the opposite. She’d been in a position of power, and she’d liked the way it felt.
Now all she wanted was to feel even better.
Without a second thought, Daphne grabbed her coat and began the journey to the caves. It was a bitterly cold night, and by the time she reached the wall, she was shivering.
Kronos was waiting for her when she arrived, standing with the fire crackling behind him.
The moment she arrived he turned and disappeared into the passageway.
Daphne followed, her heart beating out of her chest. So they were going to his chambers again.
That meant that whatever the reason he’d summoned her, it was important enough that he did not want to have the conversation out in the open.
Daphne stayed one step behind Kronos the entire way to his chambers.
He opened the door, waited until she was inside, then closed it after her.
“Did you undress for him?” he asked immediately.
“Whatever happened to hello?”
Kronos crossed his arms. He was shirtless, wearing the same low linen trousers she’d seen him in before.
Daphne thought about how different his body was compared to Maximus’s—how the basilisk was a monument of breathtaking angles and muscle.
Truly beautiful. The body of a boy versus the body of a man.
“Did you undress for him?” Kronos repeated.
“Is this why you called me here? Just to ask that?”
“Daphne,” he said, his voice becoming sharp. “Answer me.”
There was a hint of something in his command. Anticipation. Or perhaps fear.
Daphne crossed her arms too. She considered lying, just to see his reaction but something stayed her tongue. “No.”
Kronos looked surprised. In a wild moment of realization, Daphne wondered whether he actually believed that she wasn’t fucking Maximus.
“Would you care if I had?” she asked quietly.
He stiffened, then squared his shoulders. “I care that you win the competition.”
“You always say that.”
“Because it is the truth.”
Daphne knew that tone. It made her want to push him—to see how far she could take this. So she said, “He undressed for me.”
Kronos’s eyebrows shot up, then quickly returned to a neutral position. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Did you like what you saw?”
If she’d been sure before, now she was positive.
An apathetic man would not ask such a question.
There was no doubt in her mind that Kronos cared whether she liked what she saw.
Daphne considered how to answer. Had she liked what she saw?
She had. That was the truth. But not as much as what she saw before her now.
“I didn’t hate it,” she said primly.
Kronos let out a harsh bark of laughter. “That is hardly high praise.”
“It’s hardly your business.”
“Hardly my business?” He stepped closer, stopping only when they were inches apart.
“You refuse to train with me,” he said, his voice low and rough.
“You deny me the right of my people, and you deny me the power that comes with it. You go to the castle with the human prince, and he undresses in front of you, and now you tell me it is none of my business?”
They were so close his body was nearly touching hers.
He was so tall she had to crane her neck to look up at him, the heat of his skin warming her even from inches away.
Not for the first time, Daphne felt a sliver of fear.
Kronos must have sensed it because his expression softened and he said, “I…should not have said that.”
It was a rare admission of fault from Kronos. Daphne could not remember a time when he had ever admitted to making a mistake. But if this was a mistake, she was dying to know why.
“Kronos.” She purposefully lowered her voice, drawing him even closer. “You can talk to me.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
In reply, he stepped back. On pure instinct alone, Daphne grabbed his arm, holding him close.
He froze, staring down at the place where she was touching him.
She thought suddenly about the last time she was here—how they’d sat and talked and then he’d walked her home and kissed her against the garden fence.
Daphne had felt their bond deepen that day, and she knew he’d felt it too.
“Kronos, please. Let me in.”
He stared down at her, obvious pain in his eyes.
“Don’t you want to?” she whispered, barely able to get the words out. Why was he making her beg? Surely, he wanted this too.
Still, he did not answer.
Daphne stepped forward and pressed her forehead to his chest. Kronos shuddered as she did so.
She could feel the tension in his body—she could sense just how much effort he was expending in order to resist her.
Daphne leaned into him, resting her whole body against his.
He was unbelievably warm. Slowly, as if he were moving through water, his arms wrapped around her.
They were embracing. It was the first time they had done that.
They stood there, pressed together, the fire crackling beside them.
“You do not understand how difficult it is for me to be this close to you,” Kronos murmured into her hair.
Daphne understood quite well, since it was just as difficult for her to be this close to him. “I wish you would let me be closer.”
She didn’t mean physically, although she had no doubt they both wanted that. She wanted him to let her in.
Kronos sighed and pulled away.
“Daphne,” he said quietly. “My position is complicated. Things are difficult with my people right now.”
“How so?”
Again, he hesitated. Daphne realized he had probably never told these details to a human before. She wondered briefly whether any human had ever heard them before. Until now it had seemed rude to ask about his private life. Now it seemed stupid not to.
“Kronos,” she said quietly. “What is going on with your people?”
She could see in his eyes that he knew it was time for them to lower the wall between them.
If they were to progress in their relationship, it needed to happen right now.
Kronos turned from her, crossing to the bed and sitting on it.
Without a word, Daphne followed. The last time they were on his bed, he’d asked her to stay the night. She wondered if he would do so again.
“For you to understand my situation, you must know that basilisks are divided into two quivers,” he began slowly. “Only one quiver can hold power at a time.”
Daphne raised her eyebrows but didn’t interrupt.
“Both quivers have fought for the throne over the course of centuries. The Drakon quiver is currently in power.”
“Is that your quiver?”
“No. I am a Seneca.”
Daphne remembered their first conversation in the cave. Kronos Seneca. “I thought you said Seneca was your last name.”
“It is.”
“So…your quiver is your family?”
Kronos pursed his lips but did not answer. Daphne studied his handsome face, wishing she could touch it. Then she realized she could. Without hesitating, she reached for him, cupping his jaw in her palm. His eyes met hers.
“Most basilisks do not compete for the throne,” he continued. “Not everyone is destined for such a path. Only the twelve highest-ranked basilisks are eligible, including the current Serpent King.”
Daphne frowned. “He’s in the running for his own position?”
“Yes,” Kronos said. “In a way.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Kora is the one who ultimately decides who rules. Not even the Serpent King can decide how long he reigns.”
A pause followed as Daphne digested this information. Then she asked, “So…are you in the top twelve?”
“I am.” He said it with pride.
Daphne understood this was significant for him. “That’s…good,” she said, unsure how congratulatory to be.
“It is,” Kronos continued. “But I may not remain there. Significant consideration is given to the basilisk who trains the girl who wins the prince’s hand in marriage. It is considered an enormous honor to hold influence over the human prince.”
“So…” Daphne said slowly. “You want your quiver to gain power. You want to be Serpent King, and you want to use me to do it.”