Page 9 of Between Two Kings

He laughed outright. “I am a basilisk, Tem.”

It was all he said, but Tem understood. Caspen was not like the human boys she’d grown up with, the ones who were raised to enter into monogamous relationships with their wives. Caspen was something else entirely—wild and free, beholden to the customs of his people just as Tem was beholden to hers. The fact that he wanted her to sleep with other basilisks may be baffling to her, but it was far from baffling to him. For Caspen, it was the norm. For Tem, it was incomprehensible.

“How can it not matter to you?” she insisted. “How can you not be jealous?”

His fingers trailed gently down her stomach, raising goose bumps on her skin. “I would only be jealous if you slept with someone you loved.”

Guilt prodded her. There was someone she loved. “I would be jealous if you slept with anyone else,” she whispered.

Caspen smiled. “I know you would. And that is understandable, given that you are part human. But I told you, Tem, there is no one else I want.”

He said the rest gently into her mind: My body and my heart belong to you.

She kissed him, and he kissed her back. When they drew apart, he said:

“I care only that you are loyal with your heart.”

Tem stared at the silver ring on her finger. Caspen hadn’t asked about it. Possibly it didn’t matter to him—basilisks wore no rings, and their matching gold claw necklaces were evidence enough of their love. But it mattered to Tem. And she couldn’t bear to remove it.

Tem leaned against his chest.

For a long moment, they simply lay there. Eventually, she asked: “What’s your favorite thing about me?”

Caspen smiled, and she saw the barest trace of his fangs. “That is easy: your mouth.”

She rolled her eyes. “Be serious.”

He laughed. “I am always serious.” He traced her bottom lip with his finger. “Your words are sharp.” He looked her in the eye. “Your opinions even sharper.”

Before Tem could roll her eyes again, he asked, “What is your favorite thing about me?”

She considered her answer, thinking of all the things she loved about Caspen. She also loved his mouth, although it certainly wasn’t because of his opinions. She loved how sure he was: how steadfast and solid. But most of all she loved the way he loved her: unconditionally.

“Your devotion.”

Caspen smiled. “It is easy,” he whispered, “to worship you.”

Then he kissed her. His tongue moved against hers, tracing the mouth he loved so much. When they were done kissing, they simply lay there, watching each other, until their eyes began to close. Eventually, Caspen’s breathing slowed.

Tem watched the great plane of his chest rise and fall rhythmically as he slept. She had always drawn comfort from Caspen. He was her protector; he would never let harm befall her. He was perfect in every single way. But Leo had ensnared her in a way she hadn’t expected, and Tem was having great difficulty shaking him.

She’d tried to do the right thing, tried to give him what he deserved. But in doing so, something had broken within her. A tiny piece of herself had walked off that stage right alongside Leo, and that piece had called to her ever since, no matter what she did to distract herself. It felt as real as a physical sensation, compressing her chest, making it difficult to breathe. Tem would never forget the way her mind exploded with sensation when her pinkie brushed against his. Was it an aftereffect of the crest? Tem knew nothing of such magic and, quite frankly, was too afraid to ask Caspen. She couldn’t even bring herself to mention the Sunday-night dinners for fear of what he might say. But that was a problem for another time.

Besides, Tem was not the only one keeping secrets.

The night after the wedding, the basilisks that had been kept at the castle for bloodletting had returned to the caves. Tem didn’t know whether Leo had freed them or if they had come of their own accord. The basilisks were all directed toward Adelaide.

“Why are they going to her?” Tem had asked.

“She is exceptional at healing,” Caspen had explained. It was a shorter response than the ones he usually gave. He had been distracted, his eyes searching the weary line of basilisks as they staggered into the caves, their hands cradled against their chests.

“Are you expecting someone?” Tem had asked.

Caspen’s gaze had flicked to hers, his expression returning immediately to neutral. “No.”

Too late, Tem had realized she should have asked a different question. Had she asked Are you hoping to see someone? she might have gotten a different answer. Part of Tem wanted to follow up, to insist that Caspen tell her who he was searching for. But the other part feared what he might say. Could she really blame him for having a past when it was Tem’s present that threatened to undo them? Her husband had lived a long life. He was the Serpent King, and he had earned that title. There was no point in holding his past against him. She hoped he would offer the same grace to her.

Eventually, Tem burrowed herself against Caspen and slept.