Page 141 of Split or Swallow

“Yes,” he said again, quietly this time. “It is possible.”

Something about his tone made Tem ask:

“Have you ever done it?”

His jaw locked. Tem tried to ignore the sharp stab of jealousy that shot through her at the thought of him using the crest on someone else.

“Caspen,” she whispered, fearing his response. “Is there a basilisk who is bound to you?”

To her surprise, he said:

“No.”

Tem thought he might elaborate, but he didn’t. There was only one thing left to ask.

“What happens to a basilisk when they’re crested?”

Caspen took an eternity to answer:

“They die.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tem wanted to know more. Needed to know more.

But she feared she had already asked too much—probed too deep into Caspen’s past after an already stressful evening—and he was on the brink of shutting down because of it.

She pressed her lips to his cheek.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” she murmured. Her wording was purposeful; Tem wanted, without a doubt, to talk about it at some point. But it would do no good to push Caspen any further. They had both been through enough tonight.

Tem shifted closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He relaxed against her, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Caspen murmured:

“You should go home, Tem.”

Her stomach flipped. She pulled away.

“Are you upset? I didn’t meant to—”

“I am not upset.”

At the look on her face, he softened his tone.

“I promise I am not upset, Tem. But it is true that you should go home.”

Tem frowned. They were engaged, or nearly so. She had hoped they would stay together at least until the morning.

“But why?”

“The quivers have called a council meeting. I must attend.”

Tem had already asked too many questions tonight. But Caspen seemed far more willing to discuss this topic, so she asked another:

“What’s the meeting about?”

“Me.”

“Oh.”