CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO #2
His words made Maximus want to vomit. He could not understand what was happening.
How had this meeting spun so far out of control, so quickly?
One moment he had the power, and the next it belonged to Kronos.
It was not a scenario Maximus had ever found himself in before.
As the prince, other men feared him. Every woman wanted to be with him.
But now, in this room, he did not have the advantage. It would not do at all.
“Compliment her again and I shall have your head.”
The basilisk squared his shoulders.
Maximus did the same.
“She deserves to be complimented.”
“Then she shall be complimented by me.”
Beside them, Daphne’s head was whipping back and forth as if she were watching a sport match. She might as well have been; there would be a winner and a loser here, of that much Maximus would make sure.
“She is mine,” Maximus snapped. “And only mine.”
Kronos did not reply, nor did he speak again. He simply turned and stormed out of the room.
Daphne stared after him, her face twisted in concern.
“What,” Maximus said slowly. “The fuck was that?”
Daphne opened her mouth. But Maximus no longer cared to hear it.
“Get out,” he said.
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
Without another word, Daphne left.
Maximus stood there, suddenly alone, trying to comprehend what just happened. He was not a stupid man. He considered himself intelligent by most measurable means. As such, he was quite sure of what he had just seen.
Kronos had feelings for Daphne. And Daphne had feelings for Kronos.
Maximus wasn’t even sure whether they knew it themselves yet. But he knew it. And he would not accept it.
“Your Highness?” The butler reappeared, snapping Maximus from his stupor.
“What is it?”
“You have one more meeting tonight. Are you ready?”
Maximus sighed. The show must go on. “Yes. Bring them in.”
He already knew who the final meeting would be with. There was only one contestant left, and Maximus had no doubt that his father had designated the order specifically to ensure she was last. He took a long, lingering sip of his wine as the door opened.
Constance’s basilisk was taller than the other basilisks—even taller than Kronos had been. His golden eyes pierced Maximus’s as he entered the room, trailed by Constance, who looked far too proud for Maximus’s liking. All he could see when he looked at her was a woman who wasn’t Daphne.
When the snake extended his hand in the same way Kronos had, Maximus shook it. “And your name is…?”
“Caspenon.”
“Great.” Maximus could not have cared less at this point. The repetitive niceties of the evening had worn him down to the bone.
He barely listened as the snake said, “Are you satisfied with her performance?”
Maximus closed his eyes. He’d had too much wine. The room was beginning to spin. “Yes,” he said. “Constance is fine.”
A pause. Maximus opened his eyes to see that the basilisk was frowning.
“Fine?”
“Yes, fine.”
Now Constance was frowning too. It was clear his words hurt her, but he found it difficult to care.
“She excels at her lessons,” the snake said slowly, as if Maximus were a small child who needed educating. “She is quite skilled.”
“I’m sure she is.”
“Constance would make an exemplary match.”
“I’m sure she would.”
The basilisk raised its eyebrows, clearly shocked by his response. “If you are not pleased with her, I can adjust my teaching. Is there something you prefer her to do that she is not doing?”
But Maximus was in no mood to discuss this any further.
The entire conversation was ludicrous. The snake was asking him what Constance could do to satisfy him when the truth was Constance could never satisfy him.
There was only one woman who would make him happy, and she wasn’t willing to have sex until she was in love.
But how to tell this snake that? It wasn’t information Caspenon should be privy to.
“I said she’s doing fine,” Maximus snapped. “My preferences are none of your business.”
The snake raised his eyebrows. “Your stance is…unconventional,” he said carefully. “Most princes tell me what they like.”
“I’m not most princes.”
“That much is clear.” His retort was sharper than it should have been.
Maximus straightened. “I suggest you watch your tone. It’s not your job to question me.”
The basilisk straightened too. Much to Maximus’s chagrin, he was a good deal taller than him. “It is my job to train your future wife.”
“And who says Constance is my future wife? Last time I checked, that’s not your choice to make.”
“My girls always win.”
“That’s not my problem.”
The basilisk rolled his shoulders. For the second time tonight, Maximus felt suddenly uneasy.
“It is my responsibility to educate my student so that she satisfies you. If there is something you would like me to teach her, it would be in your best interest to inform me.”
Something seemed to be at stake here, and it had nothing to do with Constance. The basilisk obviously cared deeply that Maximus chose his student, but he had no idea why. It was almost as if he had a personal stake in this. But that was absurd. The snakes didn’t covet the way humans did.
“They aren’t cattle. You can’t just train them,” Maximus said.
The snake blinked. Clearly, he disagreed. But all Maximus could focus on was the conversation he’d just had with Kronos—how he’d said Daphne was exceptional at giving head. The jealousy hadn’t abated. It probably never would.
“If you do not tell me what you like, I cannot improve her performance.”
“I don’t care if you improve her performance. I like someone else.”
If the snake looked surprised before, he looked downright angry now.
Beside him, Constance’s face twisted into a pout.
Maximus didn’t care. He was done pretending that any of this was even remotely interesting to him.
He didn’t care to have Constance throw herself at his feet.
He didn’t care to be satisfied in bed by anyone who wasn’t Daphne. No one could satisfy him but Daphne.
“Constance is the front-runner,” the snake said. “I suggest you choose her.”
Constance flushed. Clearly his compliment flattered her. But it did not convince Maximus. He raised his eyebrows. “Are you…allowed to say that?” he asked.
Caspenon looked him straight in the eye. “I am allowed to say anything I wish.”
Maximus suppressed a shudder. The snake was intimidating him, and he did not like to be intimidated. “I make my own choices.”
A tenuous silence fell. Caspenon’s golden eyes bored into Maximus’s with scalding intensity.
Maximus should look away, but the events of the evening had pushed him to his breaking point.
The woman he truly wanted had a bond with someone else.
And the woman he did not want at all was being foisted upon him by this snake. It was beyond what he could handle.
“We are done for tonight,” he said quietly yet firmly.
A muscle twitched in Caspenon’s jaw. He was truly a terrifying creature. But Maximus held his ground, determined not to yield.
Finally, the snake said, “Very well.” He grabbed Constance by the arm and marched from the room.
Immediately, Maximus downed the last of his wine.
It barely helped the pounding of his heartbeat, which felt like a hammer in his chest. He couldn’t stop picturing how Kronos had looked at Daphne.
Worse still was the way she’d look back at him.
What confidences did they share? Had Daphne lied to Maximus about not wanting to have sex?
Was she leading him along while fucking the snake on the side?
Perhaps it wasn’t possible to resist the draw of the basilisk.
They were known for the sexual prowess, after all.
What chance did Daphne have against such power?
Maximus knew in his heart that there was more to their special glance than mere physical attraction. There was emotion there. Love, perhaps, although he was loath to admit it. The thought made him hurl his wineglass into the fire.
He needed to take action—to assert his dominance over Kronos in some way Daphne would recognize and respect.
But that was a fruitless mission. She did not respect assertions of dominance.
She only respected vulnerability and truth.
One of her finer—if infuriating—qualities.
He could not win through a show of force. No.
This would require planning and skill, things he had not had to put into practice for a long time.
This would take effort and care. If he was going to win Daphne over—and save her from that snake—he was going to do it right.
Force would be a last resort. He would use it only if he failed.
Only then would he do what needed to be done.
Only then would he resort to violence.