Page 189 of Between Two Kings

For the first time since she’d arrived under the mountain, Tem wasn’t inundated with the sight of thrashing bodies. There was not a moan to be heard—no intertwining body parts, no ejaculation. Everyone was just…talking.

“They refrain out of respect.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They know you and Caspenon cannot touch. It is a gesture of solidarity.”

Tem wasn’t sure how to respond. So she settled on “Oh. That’s…nice of them.”

“Do not be too impressed,” Adelaide said with a smile. “It will only last until after the feast. Then you may be shocked at what you see.”

A tingle of anticipation slid down Tem’s spine. She didn’t know whether to be excited or scared.

Before she could decide, she heard “Tem. My love.”

She turned to see Caspen looking down at her.

Tem immediately reached for him, but her fingers were stopped by the barrier. She dropped her hand, holding back the sudden urge to cry. Tem thought of what happened in the grotto, how he’d told her to touch Apollo. At first she’d thought it was because he wanted to watch them together. But now she wondered whether it was because Caspen couldn’t do it himself. Perhaps he’d used his brother as a conduit—if he could not touch her, at least his brother could.

How are you feeling?

She wanted so badly to touch him right now, to reaffirm their connection in the best way she knew how. For weeks, she’d found solace in his arms, in the pure surety of sex. But now that this barrier had been erected between them, that connection had faded. It wasn’t enough to tease each other with their minds or with the claw. It wasn’t enough to watch him touch himself in front of her. Tem was losing a part of herself—an important, empowered part—without him. She couldn’t bear the thought of not touching Caspen for even a second longer, much less until after the tournament was over. Worse still was the thought of never touching him again.

So she told him the truth: I’m scared.

His face softened. He looked at Adelaide, who was watching their interaction sympathetically.

“I will leave you two,” she said. “I shall return when it is time for you to select your contenders.”

Tem nodded. Adelaide left them.

“There is no need to fear, Tem.”

Why did everyone keep telling her that? “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not responsible for our entire future.”

To her surprise, Caspen smiled. “Neither are you.”

Tem shook her head. That just wasn’t true. “What if I mess it up?” she asked, her voice nearly cracking. “What if my heart chooses wrong?”

“Tem,” he said. “It is not possible for your heart to choose wrong. That is the entire point of the tournament. Whoever you choose is your right match.”

“How can you be so calm about this?”

“Because I have faith,” he said simply.

Tem thought about what Apollo had told her: how basilisks believed in fate. Did Caspen think his destiny was predetermined too? Tem couldn’t live in such limbo. She had to believe that she had some agency, that she had a choice.

“Tem,” he said again, quietly this time. “No matter what your heart decides, know that you are worth fighting for.”

She stared up at him. In another world, they would kiss. But in this one, they simply looked into each other’s eyes, their hearts beating in tandem, their bodies inches apart. Tem wished she could bottle this moment and keep it forever.

Just then, a murmur swept through the banquet hall.

Tem turned to see the crowd parting to reveal two tall, imposing basilisks. A chill slipped down her spine as she recognized one of them: Rowe. She hadn’t seen him since the wedding, when he crested Vera and ran off into the forest. Now he was walking through the banquet hall as if he owned it, his nose turned up, his mouth twisted in a triumphant sneer. Instinctually, Tem stepped closer to Caspen. Then her gaze dropped between Rowe’s legs.

Despite herself, Tem’s mouth fell open.

The last time she’d seen Rowe naked, there had been nothing but a mangled mound of flesh where his cock used to be. Now gold gleamed between his legs, molded to the space where his cock used to be, fused seamlessly to his skin, flesh becoming metal. It reminded her of what Apollo had shown her—a cock made from essence. But this was nothing like that. Rowe had bled for the apparatus between his legs. It was a horrible thing—a thing of power.