Page 249 of Between Two Kings

Leo rolled his shoulders. “She said she couldn’t understand why I freed them. She said that the snakes deserved to bleed.”

Disbelief passed through Tem, followed closely by rage.

Before she could respond, Leo went on. “She said you deserved it too.”

He said it quietly, as if he didn’t want her to hear it. But Tem would never forget it as long as she lived.

“Leo.” Tem placed a hand on his arm, careful not to touch his skin. “Can’t you just talk to her about it?”

He let out a harsh laugh. “I’m done fucking talking to her.” His eyes slid to hers. “And to you.”

Tem froze at his tone. She knew he was angry at Evelyn. But by extension, he was also angry at her. It was Tem’s fault Evelyn was here in the first place—Tem’s fault they had reunited. It didn’t matter that she’d tried to do the right thing. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t how she thought things would turn out. Intent was irrelevant.

Leo was still breathing hard. His next word was said with gritted teeth: “Leave.”

“What?”

“Leave, Tem,” he said. “Go back to the caves.”

“But why? What are you going to do?”

“I am going to make my choice.”

Then he was gone.

Chapter Forty-Two

Tem stood alone in his bedroom, staring at the fire, wondering what on earth to do. Should she go downstairs and rejoin the celebration? Should she stay here and wait? Would Leo return once he’d talked to Evelyn? Or was he even going to talk to her at all? Perhaps he wanted Tem to leave so that she wouldn’t have to see him marry Evelyn even after he found out the truth. Perhaps he was ashamed. Tem couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t even breathe.

Leave. It’s what you do best.

The women in Leo’s life were always leaving him. And then coming back and leaving him again. The last thing Tem wanted to do was leave. It went against every instinct in her heart. But she also wanted to respect his wishes. If Leo was telling her to leave, he had a good reason to do so. And Tem had never wanted to see this wedding anyway. There was no point in lingering.

So Tem left.

The caves were bustling when she returned to them. Everyone under the mountain was preparing for the funeral. Tem found Caspen at the lake, speaking to a member of the council. She didn’t ask him why he left, and he didn’t ask her why she had returned. It didn’t even matter. It all seemed like minutiae compared to the prospect of laying forty-six basilisks to rest. All Tem knew was that Caspen needed her support, and she was glad to give it. She was by his side as he made arrangements for the funeral. She was by his side as he talked to every single family member of each of the basilisks who had died. She was by his side as he gathered the bodies and placed them in a line on the shore of the lake. The surrounding grottos were decorated elaborately, the entryways wreathed in leaves. It was not unlike the way the castle was decorated for the wedding. Only at this event, the dead would not find their way back.

Every basilisk was in attendance for the funeral, Senecas and Drakons alike. Only Rowe and Eros were nowhere to be found; they had left the night after the tournament. Tem stood next to Apollo, whose hand found hers. She knew he was seeking comfort, and without hesitation, she intertwined her fingers with his.

I’m so sorry for your loss.

Thank you.

Can I do anything for you?

He shook his head.

Are you sure?

There is nothing to be done, Temperance. By you or anyone.

His words gutted her. All Tem wanted to do was fix this—to go back in time and make it so that the last few days hadn’t happened.

Adelaide appeared on her other side. Without thinking, Tem reached for her hand too.

One hand held Adelaide’s. The other Apollo’s. Tem could feel their grief as solidly as she could feel her own. It was not unlike the hive orgasm, but instead of pleasure, she felt pure, unfiltered sadness. It was too much for one person; if she hadn’t been standing among the basilisks, she would have collapsed. But here, surrounded by her people, the grief was bearable. Burdens were easier to bear when shared, after all. There was beauty in this—in the collective ability to stand in community, to hold and to be held. Beside her, Apollo’s grip tightened. Tem sent him a soothing wave of solidarity. Not enough to alter the way he was feeling—only enough to let him know he was not alone. He turned to her and pressed his lips to her temple.

The crowd fell silent as Caspen approached the line of bodies.