Page 261 of Split or Swallow

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.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

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.

The word was thunder in her mind.

Yes, she insisted. It’s the only way.

I would rather die.