Filed To Story: Spit or Swallow: Kiss Of The Basilisk
Or could she?
Tem had always felt out of place, like she was wearing the wrong clothes. She’d always hated the farm, always loathed the sound of the roosters. It grated against her on a molecular level-on an instinctual level. She’d always wanted something else from her life-something more. But she’d never expected this.
She looked up at Caspen, and her resolve hardened. “You knew.”
Caspen shook his head. “I only suspected.”
“At first, maybe. But eventually, you knew. And you didn’t tell me.”
“I am telling you now.”
“That’s not good enough.”
Tem stepped back. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She was so sick of his evasions, his half-truths, his twisted efforts to keep her in the dark. Tem was always the last to know. Even this most important, fundamental thing about herself-she’d had no idea. She was the last to be kissed, the last to be fucked. Do you know your own anatomy? Caspen had asked her once. Not at all, it would seem.
“How long have you known, Caspen?”
He didn’t answer.
“How. Long.”
The pause went on forever. Finally, Caspen reached for her hands, turning them over so her freckles caught the firelight.
“This is a distinct feature,” he whispered. “Even among basilisks. It was no coincidence that you, a human, had such a rare thing. Your father has the same ones. That is when I suspected you were a hybreed.”
Hybreed. Half human, half basilisk.
Tem had heard the stories just like everyone else-that such a creature existed. But they were stories, nothing more. Hybreeds were not supposed to be real. They were not supposed to be her.
“When I spoke to you using my mind, that is when I knew for sure,” Caspen finished quietly. “Only basilisks can communicate with one another that way.”
Tem stared down at her freckled palms. There was a pattern to them, she realized suddenly. All these years, and she’d never noticed that she had exactly twelve freckles on each palm, evenly split, with three freckles beneath each finger except her thumbs.
Tem shook her head. She pulled her hands from his grasp.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because I did not want to frighten you.”
“Right,” she spat. “Because we both know I am so easily frightened.”
“Tem-” He reached for her again, but she smacked his hands away.
“Don’t.”
There was silence as they stared at each other, and Tem felt anger-true, unstoppable rage-begin to flow through her. Her chest was tight; it was becoming difficult to breathe. She fought to stay calm, asking her next question with her fists clenched.
“Why would you make me do the ritual if I’m not even human?”
“I did not make you-“
“You know what I mean.”
Caspen’s face was drawn. It pained him to see her like this. But Tem didn’t care.
“Only humans are subjected to the ritual. Nobody would suspect you were anything else.”
To her surprise, his response satisfied her. What better way to convince everyone she was a human than to put her through a ritual that only humans were subjected to? But she still didn’t understand why he’d done it.
“Why would you want everyone to think I’m human?”
“To protect you, Tem.”
“From what?”
“Everything.” He threw his arms wide. “My father. My world. My quiver. If they find out you are a hybreed, they will-“
But he cut himself off. Now it was Caspen’s turn to take a moment to compose himself. Tem waited impatiently for him to continue. When he did, his voice was low.
“I was a fool, Tem.” He stepped closer. “I thought I could protect you, but I have made things incomparably worse.”
Tem frowned. “How?”
“My father accessed your mind during the ritual. He knows what you are.”
Tem remembered how Bastian had told her to finish first. She thought of the moment afterward, between father and son-how Caspen had said, I will not allow it.
“Caspen,” she said with conviction. “What does your father want with me?”
Caspen closed his eyes. For once, Tem didn’t rush him. Somehow she knew that they had arrived finally at the last piece of the puzzle. She was about to get the truth.
When he opened his eyes, Tem saw unmistakable fear in them. It matched the fear she’d seen in his mind-the dark cloud of worry surrounding his thoughts of her.
“He wants you to crest the royal family.”
Tem’s mouth fell open.
“Usually, contact is required for the crest,” Caspen continued quickly, his voice low and strained. “But your power is unique. Hybreeds can crest many people at once without touching them at all. You simply need an opportunity where all the royals will be gathered together.”
Tem felt lightheaded. “The wedding,” she whispered.
Her wedding.
Caspen nodded. “Once you crest them, they will lose their free will. They will be vulnerable. My people would immediately take over.”
Tem narrowed her eyes. “Was this your plan all along?” she asked. “For the prince to pick me so I could crest his entire family?”
“Of course not. I never wanted this for you.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“I cannot lie, Tem.”
“Yes, you can. You twist the truth all the time. How do I know you aren’t doing it now?”
“What do you wish for me to say? You are precious to me, Tem.” His voice almost broke. “I do not want anything to happen to you. My father is the last person I would want to find out what you are. He is the cruelest man I know.”
“And yet you were willing to kill for him.”
Caspen went perfectly still. “That was a long time ago. And it is my deepest regret. You know this.”