CHAPTER TWENTY #2
“I beg your pardon?”
His mouth twitched in amusement. “You do not strike me as the type of woman who would be afraid to step onto a dance floor.”
“I…”
But Daphne really had nothing to say to that.
She wasn’t afraid. She was simply…aware.
They were in a room full of royals. Maximus himself was just beyond the edge of the ballroom.
All it would take was for the set of doors to open, and he could have a clear view of her.
How would the prince react if he saw her dancing with her teacher?
Part of her didn’t want Maximus to see her dancing with Kronos.
But another part—a smaller part but a part nonetheless—definitely did.
Daphne made her decision. “Let’s dance.”
Kronos raised his eyebrows. His smile widened. “Very well.” He took her glass, setting it on a nearby tray with his. Then he extended his hand, and Daphne took it. “Let us dance.”
Perhaps it was her imagination, but she could have sworn people parted for them as they walked onto the dance floor. Was this what it was like to hold some influence, to have power? People did not normally part for Daphne.
When they reached the center of the dance floor, Kronos turned to face her. She looked up into his eyes, focusing on nothing but how warm his body was even when it wasn’t yet touching hers. Being this close to him was intoxicating—she felt as if she were staring directly into the sun.
Kronos placed his hand on her waist, and Daphne suppressed a shudder as the motion applied pressure to the pearls beneath her dress.
He paused, as if waiting for her to protest. When she didn’t, he pulled her closer.
The last time they’d been this close, she’d had his cock down her throat.
Before she could lose herself in the memory, Kronos took her hand in his and spun her out in a single, elegant motion.
As soon as she was an arm’s length away, he spun her back, pulling her firmly into his chest. They danced together slowly, moving to the music with unhurried grace.
“Can I ask you something?” Daphne said eventually.
“Anything.”
“What…did you give me?” Daphne had no idea what to call the item she was currently wearing. She knew Kronos knew what she was referring to simply based on the way his fingers slid up her spine, tracing a string of pearls.
“A gift,” he said simply.
It wasn’t the answer Daphne was looking for. There was something special about the item—something magic. She knew Kronos knew it too. “Kronos. Tell me.”
There were so many other things she wanted to ask about—things that were far more important than arousing lingerie. But in this moment, Daphne simply wanted to know.
Yet all he said was, “In time.”
Daphne sighed. It was hard to pressure him to reveal his secrets when she was keeping secrets of her own. She hadn’t told him what Benjamin had said under the bridge; she could not blame him for withholding something in return.
Kronos spun her around again, and this time when he pulled her back in, his lips brushed her cheek.
Perhaps it was the wine making her feel warm.
But Daphne knew the real reason she was flushed was because of her proximity to him.
It was incredible to be this near to him, to feel his body and smell his scent.
Every time they came together in tandem with the music, she had to remind herself not to kiss him.
They were in the middle of the ballroom; there was no worse place to be feeling the way she felt.
“Where did you learn how to dance?” Daphne asked, if only to distract herself from how turned on she was.
“Basilisks are born with perfect rhythm. It is a skill we utilize during sex.”
He answered so matter-of-factly that she almost laughed. Everything seemed to circle back to sex with him.
“Where did you learn how to dance?” Kronos asked her in return.
“I didn’t,” Daphne said. “At least, not formally. We dance in the village sometimes, and at the Horseman.”
“The Horseman?”
“It’s a pub.”
“I see.”
“Have…you ever been to a pub?”
Kronos shook his head. “I have not.”
Daphne remembered their conversation the first time he’d walked her home—how he never ventured into the village. How he was hardly free. “Do you want to?”
His eyes shifted down to hers. “No,” he said simply.
Daphne nodded. She didn’t even know why she’d asked.
They couldn’t go to the Horseman even if Kronos wanted to.
The villagers would never accept a basilisk in their midst. Kronos would be seen as a danger to everyone.
Sudden, irrevocable sadness passed through Daphne.
How were they supposed to be together if they couldn’t even go to the local pub?
This was all wrong. She was dancing with a basilisk, wearing something magical he had given her, while the person she was supposed to be pursuing—a prince, for Kora’s sake—was just beyond a doorway.
What was she doing? Perhaps Maximus had been right to renegotiate their arrangement.
He was the only one thinking properly about their future.
It didn’t matter that Augustus didn’t accept her—she had far more of a chance with Maximus than she did with the man before her.
“Kronos,” Daphne whispered. It didn’t matter that they were in a loud ballroom, that music was playing. He was more than close enough to hear her. “What are we?”
His grip tightened on her waist. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she began, her throat suddenly tight, “what are we doing? We can’t be together.” She looked up into his golden eyes. “I mean—I don’t even know if you want to be together. All I know is that I’m—I’m—”
She paused, searching for the right word.
What was she, exactly? She was not in love, at least she didn’t think she was.
She was infatuated, that was for sure. She was emotionally attached to him—developing feelings that scared her.
And was she alone? They didn’t talk about things like this.
Perhaps they needed to, if they were going to risk everything for it.
Kronos had long since stopped moving. He stared down at her as he whispered, “What are you, Daphne?”
She settled on the word he’d once used to describe her—a word she hated: “Lost.”
Sadness passed over his face. “Daphne…”
“What are we, Kronos?” she asked again. “Because if we’re anything less than in love, maybe we shouldn’t be anything at all.”
There was so much at stake. So much risk.
Daphne had never heard of a situation like theirs before—of a teacher getting involved with his student or of a basilisk getting involved with a human.
Both were anomalies, and both were dangerous.
She didn’t know how anyone would react to their union—her mother, Ella, Maximus.
Everyone she knew would be at best, shocked, and at worst, disgusted.
The villagers did not trust basilisks. It might even incite a war.
The full weight of their reality crushed her like an avalanche.
Daphne couldn’t believe she’d let this go on so long without clarity.
“Daphne,” Kronos said quietly. “Do you love me?”
She stared up at him. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Just answer.”
Daphne couldn’t answer. It was too soon. She didn’t love Kronos—not yet. But she knew she could. Somehow, despite her previous track record and her deep-seated doubt that she was worthy of love, she knew she could love him. Just not right now.
“I can’t answer,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.
“And you should not have to.”
They were inches apart. Daphne did not know whether anyone else was watching—whether the royals were staring at the teacher and his student. But none of that mattered. All she cared about was this.
“Love cannot be rushed,” Kronos continued, seemingly equally oblivious to those around them.
“It cannot be convinced, or forced, or set to a deadline. It must be felt in its own time.” He took her face in his hands, looking her straight in the eye as he whispered, “Whatever we are is worth the wait.”
Daphne stared up into his golden eyes, seeing the sincerity in them.
The conviction. Perhaps they were nothing yet.
But they would be something someday. And Daphne had no doubt that day was worth waiting for.
Eventually, Kronos held her once more. They swayed to the music, not quite dancing, not quite standing still.
The music swelled again, but this time Kronos didn’t spin Daphne out.
Instead he held her against his chest, his lips against her forehead.
His hand was splayed flat on the small of her back, his thumb gently stroking her skin.
Even that was almost too much for Daphne to bear.
Their faces were far too close together.
Suddenly Kronos pulled back, looking at something beyond her. He tensed.
“What is it?” Daphne asked.
She followed his eyeline until she saw who he was looking at: a tall, terrifyingly attractive basilisk who was looking right back. Daphne immediately recognized him as the formidable man who had confronted her in the passageway: Agnes’s brother.
“Who is that?” she whispered.
“That is Caspenon.”
“Is he…important?”
“He is the son of the Serpent King.” Kronos looked down at her. “Why do you ask?”
“I…met him.”
His face twisted suddenly with concern. “When did you meet him?”
“When I came to find you that one time. Agnes told me he’s her brother.”
Kronos was frowning as if what she’d said was deeply concerning. “Why did you not tell me?”
Daphne shrugged. “I didn’t think it mattered.”
“It matters,” he said. “You must tell me if anything like that happens again. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“It is not safe for you to be alone with another basilisk,” Kronos continued, his words quick and sharp. “They will seek to harm you. Especially a Drakon. And especially if they know that I—”
Just then, Caspenon was upon them.