Page 162 of Split or Swallow

A moment later, her hand was empty.

She stared at her palm in shock. The claw was gone—disappeared as if it were never there in the first place. It had happened only once before—at Tem’s request, before the Frisky Sixty. Did Caspen know what she was thinking about doing with Leo? She felt for him with her mind, but the door between them was firmly shut. Tem flexed her fingers in disbelief. There was no point in dwelling on it any longer.

Instead, Tem climbed into bed and fell asleep immediately. But she awoke just hours later, and no matter what she did, sleep wouldn’t return. She tossed and turned violently, trying not to stare at the open door.

But she couldn’t ignore it.

She thought about how she had taken Leo in tonight. He was right; it was her choice. And she had made it readily, without outside influence, simply because she’d wanted to. She thought about Caspen, whose voice was painfully absent from her mind. He was always the one drawing the line between them—it was always Caspen who decided when and how their relationship would progress. Now Tem was the one drawing the line with Leo—keeping distance between them, policing his behavior and holding him at arm’s length.

Now the person setting boundaries was her.

And why, exactly, was she so against the human prince? What was it about Leo that Tem found so abhorrent? Was there really anything wrong with him, or was it just that Maximus was his father—something over which he had no control—something he himself had expressed disgust over. Should a son suffer for the sins of his father? Maximus judged Tem constantly, with no justification or remorse. Was she really going to do the same to Leo?

Leo had never lied to her. He’d defended her in front of his father—more than once—at great personal cost. She’d never taken his constant advances seriously, but now Tem wondered whether that was just because she’d gotten so used to the polar opposite from Caspen. Was she only interested in affection when it was being withheld from her? Leo had proven time and time again that he wanted her, even when she didn’t believe him. Leo, whose opinion of her was informed by her actions, yet her opinion of him was formed by her own prejudice. Leo, whose only sin was his lineage. Leo, who despite the fact that girls were throwing themselves at him left and right, had only pursued Tem. Why should she deprive herself of what she knew they both wanted? Leo was right. Caspen never had to know.

Tem got out of bed.

She crossed to the door, which was still cracked open. As if in a dream, she walked through it. Leo was still at the table, fast asleep, his head tilted back against the wall. His sharp cheekbones were softer in the dark, his thick blonde hair mussed in the back. She stared at his exposed neck, his prominent Adam’s apple. He was completely defenseless. For some reason, seeing him like that confirmed Tem’s decision.

She touched his shoulder.

At the contact, Leo’s eyes flew open. He looked up at her calmly, as if he knew what she was about to say.

Tem said it anyway:

“I changed my mind.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

There was absolute silence as they stared at each other.

For some reason, Tem felt perfectly at ease. From the look on Leo’s face, he did too. His mouth turned up at the corner as he stood slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Leo whispered:

“What are we about to do, Tem?”

Her mind was already blank, her arms wrapping around him.

“Whatever we want,” she whispered back.

Then she kissed him.

It wasn’t their first kiss, yet somehow it was new. Somehow, this time, it felt as if they were on equal footing—like Tem’s cottage was far away from everything that had been weighing on them—like they both knew they were safe with the oth⁠er here. They kissed slowly, neither of them in a rush, neither of them giving in to necessity just yet.

Tem tugged on Leo’s shirt.

“Take this off,” she said.

He laughed softly.

“If you insist.”

She watched as he took it off. Leo’s torso was angular and lean, so different from the brutal muscles on Caspen. There was a tiny scar under his chin, and she touched it tentatively.

“What’s that from?” she asked.

“Carriage accident.”