When he looked back at her, Daphne asked the question with her eyes. Caspenon?
Kronos nodded. Caspenon’s guest was close to making him orgasm. Of course she was; she had a special hold over him. Daphne and Kronos could not hope to compete when Daphne was not doing what every other guest was more than willing to do.
Just when she was beginning to lose hope, something happened.
The motion of their mat changed from frenzied jerking to deep, steady movements. Daphne frowned. She tried to look to her side and found a basilisk looking right back. It was one of the cold ones from the sea. It was practically climbing onto the mat, its entire torso out of the water. In her haze of adrenaline, Daphne saw a Y-shaped scar on its chest. The same one Kronos had. Its silver eyes held hers as its brethren took over the edges of their mat, continuing the same purposeful, fixed motion. They were setting a rhythm—causing Kronos to thrust the way he would if he were doing it himself.
“Daphne,” he said again, his voice nearly a growl. “I am close.”
His cock was down her throat; she could not respond. She could only wonder whether he meant he was close to coming or close to transitioning. Daphne dearly hoped it was the former. Yet she feared it was the latter. His cock felt different—harder than usual, and warmer too. It was causing friction. Daphne’s mouth grew hot as her lips began to burn. Something warm and liquid ran over her chin, and she knew it was her own blood. Smoke curled all around them, rising from Kronos’s body in arresting black plumes.
“If you wish to move,” he panted, each word clearly a chore to get out, “if you wish to push me away, you can.”
Immediately, the heaviness in her body dissipated. Daphne understood he was trying to save her. She was free from his compulsion, free to move. But she did not want to. All she wanted to do was stay here, with him, and see this through to the end. So instead of pushing him away, she placed her hand on his abs, splaying her fingers wide. He clamped his own hands over hers, holding her against him.
“This may hurt, Daphne,” he whispered. She could barely understand him. He was speaking through fangs. “It may hurt and I am so sorry.”
If she could have nodded, she would have. Instead she felt a stretching sensation in her jaw as his cock thickened and grew. She could not take it; no human could.
“Stay with me.”
The world was going dark. Every instinct in her screamed to move—to push him away. But if she did that they would lose the challenge. Kronos was seconds from finishing. Daphne knew him so well—knew the sounds he made right before he came. Sounds that were animalistic now that he was transitioning. She knew she just needed to hold on for one more moment.
But even one moment was a moment too long.
“Daphne—baby—please—”
Pain like she had never known cracked through her skull.
Daphne felt herself opening—breaking—accommodating something she was not built to accommodate. She saw stars. Daphne was not unconscious, although she wished she could be. Her body seemed to be holding on, refusing to pass out despite the trauma it was experiencing. Instead of falling into darkness, she remained present as the man above her turned into something that was not a man at all.
At last, darkness took her.
When she awoke she was still on the mat in the middle of the lake. Kronos’s hands were on her face.
“Come back to me,” he whispered over and over as a gentle, healing coolness knit her jaw back together. “Please come back to me, Daphne.”
Daphne opened her eyes. Their mat was moving again, but this time toward the shore.
“Did…?” The rest of the sentence was too painful to get out. Her mouth felt wrong—loose.
“We won,” Kronos whispered. “I am in your debt.”
Relief coursed through her.
It was the strange basilisks from the sea—she knew they could not have done it without them. Their intuitive understanding of the rhythm Kronos needed to finish was what had caused him to climax. Daphne knew their victory was no guarantee of anything—that even though they had won two out of three challenges, they had also forfeited one. At this point she could barely find it in herself to care.
“Does it hurt anywhere else?” Kronos asked, his voice low. “Are you in any pain?”
“No.”
Kronos hung his head, pressing his lips gently to her shoulder. “Are you certain?” he whispered. “Please. I just want to fix it. Anything that hurts…let me fix it.”
Daphne knew he wanted to comfort her, to check in, to ensure that the damage he’d done wasn’t permanent. But Daphne couldn’t form a single thought, much less articulate them. Instead she leaned her head against Kronos’s shoulder and he held her until they reached the shore. When their mat touched the sand, he helped her into the shallows.
“What happens now?” Her jaw was working again. Sore but functional. Basilisk magic was truly a wonder to behold.
“Now we will see who won the Ranking.”