Filed To Story: Spit or Swallow: Kiss Of The Basilisk
Gabriel raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Come on, Tem. You mean to tell me you haven’t taken a dive in the princely waters yet?”
She shook her head.
“Really? You know the ball is tomorrow night, right?”
“I know.”
“Well then, you’d better hop on it if you want a chance at the crown. And by it”-he smacked her knee-“I mean him.”
Tem closed her eyes in exasperation.
“Anyway, rumor has it that the king might interfere.”
Tem’s eyes flew back open. “Interfere with what?”
“The competition.”
Gabriel was standing, ready to order more beer.
“Wait.” Tem grabbed him, pulling him back down. “Interfere how?”
Gabriel sighed, as if this line of questioning was a great burden standing in the way of his acquisition of alcohol.
“If he doesn’t like who Leo picks, he won’t allow the wedding.”
Dread pierced Tem’s stomach. She remembered how Maximus had told Vera she was his favorite. “But how do you know that?”
“Henry said he heard the king and Lord Chamberlain talking.”
“Well, what did they say specifically?”
“Patience, Temperance,” Gabriel tutted. “I’m a little bit drunk, you know.”
“I know,” Tem sighed. She waited for Gabriel to continue.
“The king said, ‘if he chooses her, I will choose another.'”
Tem didn’t need to ask him who the king was referring to. If Leo chose her, Maximus wouldn’t allow them to get married. But Gabriel had no idea what was at stake here. Tem needed to marry Leo in order to prevent war. Tem had to win the competition. There was no other option.
Tem no longer had an appetite for beer. “I have to go,” she said. “Caspen is expecting me.”
“On his cock.”
Tem gave Gabriel a good shove for that.
She slipped from the booth and walked quickly through the village streets. She’d planned on staying at the Horseman for far longer, perhaps having a drink or two. But after this news, she only wanted to see Caspen-only wanted to find solace in his arms.
He was waiting for her in the cave.
Tem felt immediately drawn to him, as if the basilisk side of her awoke the moment he was near. She wondered if Caspen felt the same, because he drew her into a kiss so urgent she could barely catch her breath.
Are you ready to transition again?
Tem kissed him back. Transitioning again meant sex, and she was always ready for that.
Yes.
The kiss lasted a moment longer before Caspen took her hand in his and pulled her into the darkness of the passageway.
They had barely gone ten feet when it happened.
Tem felt nothing at first, only a slight whoosh of air as someone appeared before them. It was so dark she couldn’t even tell who it was. Beside her, Caspen tensed.
Then her mind exploded in pain.
Tem had never experienced a mental attack like this before. It came at her from all sides, piercing every part of her brain and shredding her mind with brutal insistence. Beside her, she heard Caspen cry out, and she knew he was experiencing a similar assault.
Fools. Both of you.
The voice belonged to Rowe.
He was shrouded in smoke. Tem saw only a bright flash of something sharp before Caspen let out a strangled grunt of pain, his hands clasping his neck. Deep crimson blood seeped between his fingers.
“Caspen!” she cried.
Rowe’s presence surged into Tem’s mind, crushing her with excruciating force. She tried to slam the door shut between them-to cut off the corridor that allowed him access to her. But Rowe was far too strong. He’d had centuries more practice wielding the gifts granted to basilisks. Tem fell to her knees, surrendering to the assault.
Caspen’s voice came to her then, tight with agony. Transition, Tem. Do it now.
But Tem couldn’t. She was too new and in too much pain. Rowe’s mental attack was crippling her, cutting off her ability to access the power Caspen had only recently taught her to wield.
It hurts, Caspen.
I know, Tem.
Panic clenched her chest. Caspen’s voice was faint, as if he were far away. Rowe’s attack had caught him off guard, and now they were both vulnerable. Tem reached for him, trying to pull him closer.
A hand grabbed her. But it wasn’t Caspen’s.
Stupid girl. Filthy blunt. Did you think there would be no consequences for your actions?
Tem couldn’t answer. There was no point in doing so anyway. Rowe’s grip on her tightened, his fingers twisting the skin around her wrist.
You little slut.
It was the same thing Jonathan had called her-the time-honored insult men threw at women they could not control.
Tem’s back hit the hard stone floor as Rowe cast her violently aside. A moment later, Caspen’s body crashed to the ground next to her. She turned her head to look at him, her heart nearly stopping at what she saw. Blood poured from the wound on his neck, dripping down his chest in horrible streaks. He wasn’t healing himself. Perhaps he couldn’t.
She’d never seen Caspen like this before-broken and in pain. Tem had watched many animals die on the farm. She knew what it looked like when someone was past the point of no return.
“Caspen,” she whispered with what was left of her voice. “Crest me.”
No.