Page 264 of Split or Swallow

Rowe was no longer struggling. Time was running out.

“He isn’t worth it,” she cried.

Caspen let out a noise that made it clear he didn’t agree. But Tem couldn’t let Caspen kill Rowe. It would mean war—it would mean a target on Caspen’s back, and by extension, a target on Leo’s. And it would all be because of her. She could⁠n’t have any more deaths on her hands.

Not even Rowe’s.

“Be merciful,” Tem whispered. “Please. For me.”

For a moment Caspen didn’t relinquish his grip.

Then came a deadly whisper:

“There is nothing I would not do for you, Tem.”

Finally, he released Rowe, who let out a sputtering cough as he grasped at his own throat. Caspen sneered down at him in disgust before looking straight at Tem.

“This is the only time you will get mercy from me. Do you understand?”

Tem nodded because she couldn’t do anything else. She understood that she had asked too much—that she had forced Caspen to go against his instincts—that he had compromised himself for her.

“I understand.”

Caspen looked at her for a long moment before his expression softened. He touched her throat again—gently this time—and concern returned to his face. It was like watching the sun slowly set.

“Are you in any pain?” he asked.

Tem tried to answer him, but found that she couldn’t. She felt lightheaded, as if she might faint.

A moment later, she did.

. . .

“Will she live?”

Caspen’s words came to her through a fog. Tem was somewhere warm, a soft pillow beneath her head. Caspen’s chambers. She was conscious, but she couldn’t seem to move.

“She is breathing. Beyond that, I do not know.”

The second voice belonged to Adelaide. Some vague part of Tem was distantly jealous.

“What can be done?” Caspen whispered.

“Nothing,” Adelaide said just as quietly. “We must wait.”

Caspen’s voice turned suddenly sharp.

“If you are lying to me—if this is some pathetic, jealous ploy to take her place, I will—”

“I would never stoop so low,” Adelaide snapped, and Caspen fell silent. A second passed. She continued quietly: “I do not wish to prolong your pain, Caspenon. This clearly wounds you. If I had a solution, I would readily give it.”

Tem opened her eyes.

Caspen was the first thing she saw. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his brow furrowed in worry. Rowe’s blood, as well as his own, was drying on his body. Adelaide was leaning against the wall, watching them with her arms crossed. She was naked, and Tem tried not to look at her infuriatingly perfect breasts.

“Tem,” Caspen leaned forward, and Tem flinched. He retreated, concern flashing across his face. “How do you feel?”

What a question. Unanswerable, really. Tem asked a question of her own: