Page 117 of Between Two Kings

The night went on.

Tem followed Gabriel’s lead—when he kissed someone, she kissed them too, performing the steps to a dance only they knew. Caspen was always there, right beside them, helping when needed. His motions were always in service of their pleasure. If Caspen touched another basilisk, it was to push them closer to Tem and Gabriel. The only cock he stroked was his own and only while looking at Tem. Pride flowed from him; it bloomed whenever someone else brought her to orgasm, particularly if they did it quickly.

Basilisks earned their ranking through sex, being with as many people as possible the ultimate goal. Tem could see the ancient cultural pull that these customs had on Caspen—how connected he was to his people and to her. She was becoming a part of his world, learning how to function in it. It brought Caspen great joy to see her like this, and it brought Tem joy too. She felt nothing but warmth and pleasure and bliss, giving herself over to the sheer thrill of it all. She was enraptured. And she enraptured in return. Eventually, she couldn’t get enough. Mouth after mouth touched hers, hand after hand gripped her skin. There was no difference between her flesh and theirs, her body and someone else’s.

Gabriel was among them, and it was clear that he was just as at home as Tem was. She’d never seen him so happy, so fulfilled. Always, no matter who he was entangled with, he ended up back with Damon. Perhaps that was right; perhaps it was meant to be. Tem had no desire to place judgment or restriction upon his experience anymore. It was his to have in the way he was meant to have it. Eventually, they were before each other once more.

They kissed for a long time in the middle of the chaos, safe and content in each other’s arms. There was no one she’d rather see her like this. Gabriel was a lover at heart, and he loved her. There was no better person to be here with.

Caspen was behind her, holding them together.

He is doing well, Tem.

For some reason, it felt like a victory. Tem had been so worried about tonight, so indescribably scared that something would go wrong or Gabriel would get hurt. Instead, the opposite had happened—no one was getting hurt. Not even close. There was only community and climax and pleasure.

Apollo was never out of sight. He was always in Tem’s peripheral vision, just out of reach, hovering along the edge of her orbit. She wondered if he stayed away because of Caspen, if he was keeping his distance out of fear of what his brother might do if he tried to come closer. But in the chaos of bodies, Tem allowed herself to indulge in curiosity. She wanted to know how Apollo’s skin would feel against hers, if his breath would hitch if she touched him. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him in front of Caspen. It wasn’t something she’d allowed herself to think about before—not really and certainly not when her mind was open and she knew Caspen could hear her thoughts.

I told you, Tem. I will not stop you.

There’s nothing to stop me from. I don’t care that he has first rights. He’s insufferable.

Apollo was getting closer.

You say that now. But if I die—

You’re not allowed to die. You promised.

I understand. And I will endeavor to keep that promise. But if, for some reason, I break it, Apollo is next in line for your hand.

Suddenly, Apollo was before her—just out of reach, tempting her. Always tempting her.

Kiss him, Tem.

EXCUSE ME?

I want you to kiss him.

But Tem just shook her head. Caspen couldn’t possibly want anything of the sort. You’re out of your mind.

And you are rather feisty tonight, little viper.

I’m only feisty because you’re being unreasonable.

I understand. But if my brother ends up marrying you in my stead, you must know that you are compatible.

Tem shook her head. She didn’t want to know anything of the sort. And she certainly couldn’t believe Caspen was telling her to do so. But Caspen was bound by the traditions of his people. First rights were given to the brother. It was absurd. And yet, her basilisk side purred at the thought of kissing Apollo in front of Caspen—to see which brother was a better match. But the answer was Caspen. It had to be. There was no need to search elsewhere, no kiss that would fulfill her in a way she wasn’t already fulfilled by him. Apollo could offer her nothing; that much had always been true. Or was it? Apollo challenged her, pushed her, tempted her. Those were qualities Caspen also possessed. They are quite similar, Adelaide had said. Tem could see that now. But Caspen was still better.

Kiss him, Tem. Do it now.

Was it a punishment? A test? A way for Caspen to exert control after Tem had gone out of her way to bring Gabriel here? She remembered what he’d said in the banquet hall after he’d found Tem and Apollo touching themselves to the sight of each other: Keep going. Caspen had won that day. Tem was not about to let him win today.

Apollo was upon her. His face was right before hers, his golden eyes in the forefront of her vision. He smelled like fruit—peaches—and Tem was utterly unprepared for it.

His voice entered her mind: My brother wants me to kiss you.

Tem was well aware of that. Apollo’s hand was on her neck. She shook her head. This is ridiculous.

I cannot disobey, Temperance.