Page 223 of Between Two Kings

Caspen just shook his head. “There was a solution. She crested him, and she sent him away.”

Only Apollo knew that the crest was no solution at all. Only Apollo knew the implications of that crest—that it had to be consummated, or Leo would die. Perhaps that would be ideal to Caspen, Tem thought suddenly. Perhaps he would be thrilled to learn that Leo might soon be out of the picture. But Caspen knew better than that. Caspen knew that if Leo died, Tem would never be the same. A race won by default is no true victory.

A darker thought occurred to Tem: a world in which Caspen was never on board with their arrangement, that his intent had never been to share her but to encourage her to crest Leo so he became nothing but her servant. It was too horrible to even consider. She refused to believe Caspen could be so cruel. He had sworn to protect the people she loved—that included Leo.

“Caspenon,” Apollo said quietly. “You know better than anyone that you cannot control who you love.”

Something unspoken passed between brothers. A part of their shared history—a part Tem did not know about.

Then Apollo whispered, “She is in pain, Brother.”

Caspen let out a bitter laugh. “She is pain, Brother.”

“She does not want this. It is killing her.”

Wrong. It was killing Leo.

Caspen’s eyes narrowed suddenly. He stepped toward Apollo, who subtly angled himself so that Tem was behind him. “And what do you know of it?”

“I know there are things you do not understand.”

“Such as?”

It was the first time Tem had seen Caspen be the last to know—a position usually reserved for her. He stepped closer.

“What exactly do I not understand, brother?”

Now Apollo looked at Tem. She knew what he was asking—knew he was seeking permission to disclose what he had discovered during the tournament. But if he told Caspen her secret—that she had to consummate the crest—Tem was afraid of what might happen. It was bad enough such a secret existed. Worse still that they had kept it from Caspen.

Tem held up her hand. This was her burden to bear. She would not hide behind Apollo, now or ever. “When I crested Leo, it formed a bond,” she said quietly.

Caspen swiveled to look at her. “I am aware of that, Tem. I am the one who told you to crest him.”

Tem pursed her lips. “I know. But what neither of us knew was that bond came with a condition.”

“What condition?”

“We must consummate the crest.”

A pause. And then:

“You have to sleep with him?”

“If we don’t consummate the crest,” she continued, raising her voice above his, “I will never be able to transition again.” She dropped her voice, the last words causing her physical pain. “And Leo will die.”

In the silence that followed, Tem watched as Caspen processed this revelation in real time. She saw confusion, then disbelief, then pure fury cross over his face. When he finally spoke, it was not the words she expected.

“I do not believe you.”

Tem stared up at him. “You have to.”

“You are lying to me. You are—”

“I’m not lying. My father told me. He has seen it before.”

“Why have I never heard of this?”

“Because it’s uncommon,” Tem said. “How many basilisks do you know who are in love with the humans they crest?”