CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE #3
For a long moment, silence lingered. Then a deafening cheer broke out as the crowd mobbed Caspenon. His quiver embraced him; hands reached out to touch his face, his chest, his cock. His guest ran forward and kissed him on the mouth before taking his cock and beginning to stroke it.
Daphne turned away, uninterested in seeing any more of that. Instead she looked up at the vials. Shame twisted Daphne’s stomach. Kronos had barely lost. If they had participated in the second challenge, there was no doubt in her mind he would have overtaken Caspenon.
She turned to him. “I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head, taking her face in his hands. “Daphne,” he said quietly. “I do not ever want to hear that from you again. You have done more for me than you could ever know.”
“I just don’t understand,” she whispered, “what you see in me.”
Kronos looked down at her, his thumbs brushing tenderly over her cheeks. “What can you possibly mean?”
“I just…” Daphne trailed off, staring at his gorgeously sculpted shoulders, his golden hair, his stunning body. He was an angel incarnate. “I don’t understand why you’re with me.”
The words were barely a whisper. Daphne was ashamed to even say them. But if they were to be honest with one another, they might as well start here.
“Daphne,” Kronos said quietly, his eyes raking over her. “I do not understand you.”
So they didn’t understand each other. That much was obvious.
“You’re flawless,” Daphne said. “And you’re practically a god.”
Kronos raised his eyebrows, but she soldiered on.
“You’re perfect in every way. I’ve never seen a more beautiful man. I just… I don’t understand. You can’t blame me for feeling like this.”
Despite everything she had just achieved, Daphne still felt small. She still felt lost.
“I do not blame you,” Kronos said quietly. “But you are wrong on every count. I am no god; I am hardly flawless. You are the flawless one.”
Daphne just shook her head.
“Daphne,” Kronos leaned closer. “I cannot lie. You know this.”
“But you—”
“Every time I am with you I cannot believe you give me the time of day. Every moment in your presence is a blessing. I wake up thinking about you and fall asleep thinking the same. Even then, I dream of you. There is no respite for me—no escape. I do not want one anyway. You are the center of my universe; you are the only thing I care about. In all my years of living I have known nothing like this. No one has ever touched my heart the way you have. If I could drown in your presence, I would do so gladly. I am far from perfect. You, however, are the definition of perfection. If you do not understand what I see in you, then I am at fault for not expressing myself properly.”
Daphne stared into his eyes, mesmerized.
“I doubt you are ready to hear it, but I am ready to say it.”
Her breath hitched in her lungs. Was he really about to—
“I love you, Daphne.”
Her heart stopped beating. “You don’t know what you’re—”
“Do not,” he cut her off quietly, “tell me what I know.”
Daphne fell silent. Technically it was an order, although it was a harmless one. Daphne stared up at Kronos—at his beautiful, concerned face. He regarded her as if she were a treasure—an exceedingly priceless one at that.
“I love you, Daphne,” he said again. “It is the easiest thing in the world to feel, and easier still to put it into practice. Loving you is not difficult. It never has been. Loving you is a privilege—one I cherish. I love you even if you do not love me in return. Even if you will never love me in return. It does not matter to me. If you never reciprocate my feelings, I will die happy knowing I told you mine.”
Daphne’s eyes filled with tears. “You’ll get tired of me,” she whispered. “You won’t want me once you know me.”
“I already know exactly who you are.”
But she just shook her head. Daphne had weathered too much: years of being called the village slut, of taking whatever she was handed, of being treated like something less than human. Kronos may love her. But that did not mean she felt like someone worth loving.
The vial room had long since emptied; everyone was no doubt off to the courtyard.
“I’m nobody.” She was beginning to cry in earnest now, tears closing her throat. “I’m nothing. Everyone thinks that I—that I’m—”
The voice in her head was relentless, repeating words she’d said to herself ever since she was old enough to kiss a boy: No one will ever love you. Why would they want to? You’re not worth loving.
Men had only ever wanted one thing from her—something she knew Kronos wanted too.
But he had never asked for it. Never forced her to do it.
He had bent over backward to ensure she didn’t compromise her promise to herself even when it meant forsaking his own people.
She had never felt worthy of such a gesture, and she still did not feel so now.
All she felt was guilt. The shame Daphne carried was not something that could be dispelled with one sentence from Kronos.
It would take unlearning; it would take time.
“Daphne,” Kronos urged. “You are not nothing. You are everything. I love every part of you, including the parts you do not love yourself.”
Kronos brushed his thumb over her cheek to catch her tears.
“Please,” he whispered. “I cannot see you cry because of me.”
She just shook her head.
“There is nothing you could say that would push me away, Daphne. Nothing. I do not expect your love in return, especially considering how selectively you give it. But you must know that you have mine. You are my heart, Daphne. When I am not near you it feels as if someone has torn it from my chest.”
Sweeter words had never been spoken to her.
“I do not deserve you,” Kronos finished quietly. “I never will. But I am yours nonetheless.”
Daphne opened her mouth to reply. But before she could, someone appeared beside her, shattering their intimate moment.
“Kronos,” Rowe said sharply. “What is the meaning of this?”
For a single, endless moment, Kronos’s tender gaze remained on Daphne. Then he turned slowly to face Rowe, his expression hardening into something brutal. “What is the meaning of what?”
“Your rank,” Rowe snapped. “It is high.”
“My rank does not matter,” Kronos snapped back. “I did not win.”
“Yet you are clearly still a threat. You have the vote of those who come from the sea. What did you do to gain it?”
Kronos scoffed. “I did nothing. Their choice was their own.”
“You are an outsider,” Rowe said venomously. “You do not deserve to be Serpent King.”
Daphne understood the source of his rage. Rowe was a Seneca—he wanted the support of the mysterious basilisks for himself. Any vote for Kronos was a vote against him.
Rowe stepped closer. Kronos stepped back, his hand darting to Daphne’s waist. Rowe tracked the motion hungrily with his eyes.
“Whoever wins will be responsible for leading our quiver.” His eyes flicked to Daphne. “How can you be expected to rule? You cannot even fuck your human whore.”
Time stopped.
Pure, unbridled fury darkened Kronos’s eyes. “What the fuck did you just call her?”
Daphne had never heard his voice so deathly quiet.
Kronos was always reasonable, always calm.
But now she saw he was on the brink of fury.
Perhaps things would be different if Kronos had not just confessed his love for her.
Perhaps if she were simply his guest, he would not care what Rowe called her.
But they were far more than host and guest, teacher and student.
They belonged to each other.
A horrible chill shot down her spine as Rowe stepped even closer. “I called her a—”
But Daphne did not get to hear that awful word again. Instead she was propelled backward as Kronos pushed her out of the way. She caught herself on the edge of the basin in front of the vials, but not before her hip hit the stone, immediately bruising it.