Page 12 of Split or Swallow

“That is good,” he said. “It means there are no bad habits to unlearn.”

Tem nodded, although she didn’t quite believe him. She couldn’t imagine it was better to have no experience at all. And yet, basilisks couldn’t lie—they were fundamentally incapable of it. At least, that’s what all the legends said. So he must be telling the truth, and if he was telling the truth, it meant Tem was better off than Vera. The thought cheered her immensely.

“Is that what we’re doing tonight?” she asked with sudden courage. “Kissing?”

“No,” Caspen shook his head. “I will not touch you tonight.”

“Oh.”

He seemed to sense her surprise, because he continued:

“Before we touch, I need to see you.”

She frowned.

“You’re seeing me right now.”

He smiled.

“Not all of you.”

Anticipation curled in her stomach. She remembered the dream, the warm darkness surrounding her. She remembered the feel of breath against her bare skin. She wondered if somehow, it was Caspen’s breath she had felt—if the dream was foreshadowing this.

He stepped back, splaying his hands palm-up.

“Please. Whenever you are ready.”

Tem’s heart leaped in her chest. She remembered that basilisks could smell fear, and she didn’t want Caspen to think she was afraid. And yet, she hesitated. She’d never disrobed before anyone—certainly not a man. She was only ever naked at home, when she bathed or when she touched herself. And even then, she avoided looking at herself in a mirror. There was nothing natural about this to her—she didn’t know how to show herself to someone else. Not even the dream could have prepared her for this.

At her hesitation, Caspen clasped his hands together.

“All journeys begin with a step, Tem.”

She still didn’t move. Her mother’s voice was beating through her brain: You will do as he says, and try to learn something.

But Tem wasn’t accustomed to following orders. It went against every instinct in her body—it violated everything about who she was as a person. She couldn’t just blindly obey him. She wasn’t built that way. She never had been. So she said:

“You first.”

Caspen’s eyebrows shot up, then darted immediately together. At his reaction, a sharp knife of anxiety stabbed Tem’s chest.

Do not offend him, or else he may not allow you to come back.

Her heart dropped to her feet. What if she had just offended him? What if he hurt her? Or worse—what if he transformed into his true form, looked her straight in her eyes, and killed her? She would apologize—she would get on her knees and beg for forgiveness—she would disrobe and let him look as long as he liked.

Before she could do any of those things, Caspen said:

“As you wish.”

Now Tem was surprised. She had no idea whether anyone had requested this of him before. But there was no taking it back, and she didn’t want to anyway.

Caspen stepped closer, stopping only when he was a few feet away. He was so much taller than her; she had to crane her neck to meet his eye.

He looked down at her calmly, as if this entire process was of no concern to him. And she supposed it wasn’t. He’d seen dozens of girls before her, and would see hundreds after. This was a duty for him—nothing more.

For Tem, it was everything.

Caspen removed his shirt slowly, grasping the bottom and pulling it up over his head in an impossibly smooth motion. Half of him was still clothed, yet Tem could barely handle what she was already seeing. His body was unreasonably fit, his torso corded with hard muscle. His trousers were slung low enough to reveal the sharp angles of his lower abs, which pointed downward like two arrows. Tem felt her entire face flush at the sight, accompanied by a wild urge to pull his trousers down herself. But Caspen’s hands were already untying them, and before Tem could take another breath, they dropped to the ground.