CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE #2
Daphne frowned. It had already been a confusing night, and this was only making it worse.
Between meeting with Maximus and wearing oddly responsive lingerie, she had just about reached her limit for strange experiences for the evening.
Without another moment’s hesitation, she touched her pointer finger and her thumb to Kronos’s broad shoulder and pinched hard.
A jolt of heat went through the lingerie as he stirred.
“Kronos,” Daphne hissed. “What are you doing here?”
In reply, he groaned.
“Kronos,” she whispered firmly, trying to sound stern while still keeping her voice down, “Answer me.”
He made a strained noise, and it scared her. When he spoke, the words were slow and muffled by her pillow. “I…am…here because…I had nowhere else…to go.”
That didn’t make sense. How could he have nowhere else to go? “I don’t understand,” she said. “What about the caves?”
In reply, Kronos finally sat up, turning to face her with a tortured grunt.
With a gasp, Daphne realized he was bleeding.
Blood dripped from his neck, trailing down his chest in horrible red streaks.
Daphne couldn’t tell how bad it was from where she was standing—there was too much blood to see the wound clearly—but from the look on his face, she knew it had to hurt. Fear coursed through her.
“Kronos,” she gasped. “What happened to you?”
“Caspenon.”
Horrible dread filled her stomach. Daphne knew something had happened.
She’d felt it in her bones—in her soul. She thought about what Kronos had told her about the Drakons, how they were bloodthirsty, ruthless, and cruel.
Daphne wished she’d trusted her instincts and followed Kronos out of the castle.
“What did he do?”
“He…caught me unawares.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means,” Kronos said weakly, slumping back on her pillows and causing the entire bed to creak. “He bit me.”
Daphne stepped closer. The moment she did so, the bite mark on his neck was thrown into sharp relief.
Two deep puncture wounds glistened with blood.
They were unlike any animal bite she had ever seen—these were perfectly sharp, almost surgical.
Daphne had a wild flashback to the wounds on Maximus’s neck.
“But when—how?”
“I was…hunting in the forest…shortly after I left…the castle,” Kronos said slowly, each word an effort. “I needed to…release some energy. I should have known Caspenon would attempt something. It was…violent. I was not prepared. He is…stronger than me.”
There was a pause as he coughed up a significant amount of blood. Daphne sat down on the edge of the bed, unable to keep her distance any longer.
“I could not return…to the caves,” Kronos continued. “I knew if he attacked me again, I would not survive it. I…could think of nowhere else to go.”
His eyes found hers. She heard the apology in his voice—and also the desperation.
She placed her hand gently on his chest. His blood felt as if it were boiling.
She had no idea what to say. There were too many things to process in too short a time.
She still couldn’t believe he was here, in her room, bleeding on her sheets.
Part of her was thrilled he’d thought of her in his moment of crisis.
The other part was terrified for him. Of all the things that needed addressing, there was only one that mattered.
“Kronos,” she breathed. “You need stitches.”
He shook his head, the motion clearly paining him. “Stitches will not help.”
“Why not?”
“A basilisk bite is magical in nature. Human methods will not heal it.”
“Can’t you—I mean—can’t you just heal yourself? Like you did in the cave?”
He shook his head again, causing more blood to flow down his neck. She wished he would stop doing that. “If it was a normal injury, I could. But an injury like this would take an extraordinary amount of power.”
Guilt laced through Daphne. Power he did not have because of her.
At the look on her face, Kronos shook his head. “Do not take this on, Daphne. It is not your doing.”
That was difficult to believe. But Kronos would not have said it—could not have said it—if it wasn’t true.
“So what will happen?” she whispered.
“When a basilisk bites another basilisk, the effect is permanent.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means the bite will take a long time to heal. And even once the skin closes, the venom will remain in my bloodstream. It will weaken me.”
“How will it weaken you?”
“When Caspenon bit me, it created a connection between us. That connection gives him the ability to corrupt my strength. Caspenon will be able to…siphon from me.”
“He’ll take your power?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
“What happens when your power is gone?”
Kronos didn’t meet her eye. “A basilisk’s power is its life source,” he said carefully.
“So you’ll die.”
He sighed. “Yes, Daphne. Eventually, I will die. But it will take a long time. Years, even.”
At his tone, something inside Daphne set itself on edge, as if she were a cat with its hackles raised. He could barely get the words out; it looked as if it physically pained him just to say them—even more than speaking had pained him earlier.
He’s lying, Daphne realized. This is what a basilisk looked like when they lied.
“There must be something that will help,” she insisted. “Just tell me what it is, and I’ll do it for you.”
Kronos shook his head. “There is nothing to be done, Daphne.”
“There must be something.”
He laughed quietly. “So stubborn. Even against the laws of nature.”
Daphne shook her head. “There’s always something.”
“There is nothing you can do.” He placed his hand over hers. “But I appreciate your concern.”
It was far more than concern that Daphne felt for him.
Kronos was a fearsome presence—he consumed every room he was in, to the point where it was overwhelming to be anywhere near him.
Now he was collapsed in front of her, a shadow of himself.
She had never seen him this way before, and she never wanted to again.
Whatever the venom was doing to him was more aggressive than he let on. There had to be something she could do.
A memory came to Daphne: a time when a snake had bitten her as a child. Her mother had sucked the venom out.
“I can help,” she said before there was time to doubt herself. “I’ll suck the venom out.”
Kronos’s face immediately darkened. He tried to sit up, and Daphne stepped forward, pushing him back down. His skin was scalding hot.
“No, Daphne.”
“You told me that Caspenon can siphon from you—that you can die from this. You said so yourself.”
“That is true,” he said. “But the risk is too great.”
“How is the risk too great?”
“Basilisk venom is lethal to humans.”
“Then why aren’t I already dead?”
Kronos fell silent. Daphne hadn’t forgotten what had happened in his chambers—how he’d spit his venom on her center and kissed her after. She still remembered the taste of it.
“You never would have done that unless it was safe,” she insisted. “Am I right?”
“That was safe,” he said. “But this is not.”
“Why not?”
“Our venom is lethal when administered directly from the fang. Blood and bone activate the poison.”
“Then it is safe,” Daphne insisted. “It isn’t straight from the fang. It can’t harm me.”
“You could have a cut in your mouth that you do not know about. There could be a fragment of Caspenon’s fang in the injury. Blood and bone. There is no guarantee the poison will not activate in you.”
“I’m doing it,” she said, already crawling forward to position herself over him.
“No.” He lurched away from her. “You are not.”
“Kronos. You’re going to die if I don’t.”
“And you will die if you do.”
“There’s a chance I’ll die. That’s different than a guarantee.”
“I will not allow you to put yourself in danger for me, Daphne.”
“Allow?”
He raised his hand in an attempt to calm her. “I do not mean it like that. You can make your own choices. But this choice involves me, and I say no.”
That really made her angry. “You’re hardly in a position to make rational decisions.”
“There is nothing irrational about wanting to save your life.”
“Then you can understand why I want to save yours.”
“No, Daphne. That is final.”