Page 232 of Split or Swallow

He released her breasts, instead taking her hand in his. They wound through the tunnels together, and already Tem was beginning to feel nervous.

Is there anything I need to know before we get there?

Caspen’s hand tightened in hers.

The purpose of this meeting is to guarantee that the Drakons remain in power. My father hopes to unite the quivers against the royals, and he thinks if the Senecas know we have a Hybreed, they will fall in line.

Tem looked up at him.

Does he know that I haven’t agreed to his plan?

Caspen clenched his jaw.

Yes. He knows.

Then why would he want me at this meeting?

Because we are newly engaged.

I don’t understand.

You and I have a significant connection. Your presence contributes to my power. It may work in our favor.

Tem took a moment to process this. She’d never thought about how she might contribute to Caspen’s power—how their relationship would benefit him political⁠l⁠y. Before she could ask anything further, Caspen stopped in front of a large wooden doorway.

It is time.

Tem turned to him. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but before she could, Caspen pressed his lips to hers. He was not gentle; she could feel his anticipation. Even now his power was growing—the same energy Tem sensed on him whenever he was about to transition was present now, thrumming between them. Caspen’s tongue found hers, and she wondered if he could taste Leo’s cum.

I can.

Despite this admission, he didn’t stop kissing her. His hands grabbed her ass; his cock pressed against her. Tem felt desperately warm, and was suddenly grateful she wasn’t wearing any clothes. By the time Caspen pulled away, wetness was dripping down her leg. He traced his finger up her thigh, trailing it through her center before raising it to his lips. He licked his fingers slowly, and Tem couldn’t help but think of how similar it was to what she had just done for Leo. Caspen smiled, as if he knew it too.

They entered the council meeting together.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

The ceilings were high, just like the auditorium where the ritual took place.

The floor was stone, as were the walls, and there was an enormous, white marble table in the center of the room. It was long and oval, surrounded by twelve marble chairs. Ten basilisks sat along the table—the Senecas on one side, and the Drakons on the other. They all wore their human forms, and they were all naked.

At the head of the table sat Bastian.

It was jarring to see him for the first time since the ritual. Tem had a sudden memory of how he’d felt inside her—how she’d strained to take him. Her cheeks flushed at the thought.

What of your mother? Tem asked, desperate for a distraction. Where is the queen?

My mother is dead.

Caspen said it so simply—as if he were reporting the weather. Tem couldn’t believe they’d never talked about it—that he’d never mentioned this deeply significant fact. What were the chances that the two princes in her life were motherless?

Caspen took the seat at the other head of the table, directly opposite his father. There was no additional chair for Tem. Instead, Caspen pulled her between his legs, his knees on either side of hers. She was grateful for the contact; his proximity made her feel less nervous, and she leaned back against his chest.

When everyone had settled, Bastian cleared his throat.

“We shall begin by congratulating my son on his engagement.”

Rowe made a scoffing sound. The king turned his blackened eyes to him.