Page 209 of Kneel Before Me

Kronos scoffed. “I did nothing. Their choice was their own.”

“You are an outsider,” Rowe said venomously. “You do not deserve to be Serpent King.”

Daphne understood the source of his rage. Rowe was a Seneca—he wanted the support of the mysterious basilisks for himself. Any vote for Kronos was a vote against him.

Rowe stepped closer. Kronos stepped back, his hand darting to Daphne’s waist. Rowe tracked the motion hungrily with his eyes.

“Whoever wins will be responsible for leading our quiver.” His eyes flicked to Daphne. “How can you be expected to rule? You cannot even fuck your human whore.”

Time stopped.

Pure, unbridled fury darkened Kronos’s eyes. “What the fuck did you just call her?”

Daphne had never heard his voice so deathly quiet. Kronos was always reasonable, always calm. But now she saw he was on the brink of fury. Perhaps things would be different if Kronos had not just confessed his love for her. Perhaps if she were simply his guest, he would not care what Rowe called her. But they were far more than host and guest, teacher and student.

They belonged to each other.

A horrible chill shot down her spine as Rowe stepped even closer. “I called her a—”

But Daphne did not get to hear that awful word again. Instead she was propelled backward as Kronos pushed her out of the way. She caught herself on the edge of the basin in front of the vials, but not before her hip hit the stone, immediately bruising it.

Daphne looked up just in time to see Kronos lunging for Rowe. His body was changing, elongating and hardening, morphing into a mass of scales and smoke. Rowe was transitioning too, his feral screech filling the room as Daphne dropped to her knees and covered her head with her hands, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. She wished dearly that she could see what was happening—that she could know Kronos was safe.

Warmth enveloped her suddenly—a tingle in her chest that spread throughout her body. It felt like a shadow of what she’d felt when Kronos crested her in her bedroom, almost like the afterglow of an orgasm. Immediately, the sounds of the fight changed: One side was clearly winning. Blow after blow was administered, eliciting the same anguished cry every time. Daphne could do nothing but stay in place, covering her face, praying to Kora that Kronos would be the victor. At long last, the sounds quieted.

“Daphne. It is over.”

She opened her eyes to see that Rowe was gone. A trail of blood led out of the vial room, wet and glistening on the rough stone floor. Kronos leaned over her, clearly concerned. There were wounds on his chest. Daphne felt a sharp stab of despair at the sight. This was the cost of them being together—of her presence under the mountain. This was what Kronos claimed was worth it.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. “I had to get you out of the way. I—”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.” She touched her fingers tentatively to the blood on his chest. “Are you hurt?”

Kronos shook his head. “No. But I…”

Daphne stared up at him. “But you what?”

“It was difficult,” he said.

“What was?”

“To transition.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Normally it is like second nature. This time I could not access it. I had to draw from you in order to overpower Rowe.”

Daphne thought of the warmth she’d experienced—the shadow of the crest. “Why?”

He shook his head. “I do not know. Earlier, on the mats, something stopped me too. I could not fully reach my true form.”

Daphne had thought he’d resisted because of her. She’d been thankful for it at the time. Now she wondered whether it was a problem. Before she could ask him anything, Kronos extended his hand. Daphne took it, standing unsteadily.

“You are tired,” he said. “I should get you home.”

She looked up at him. “Don’t you…want me to stay?”

His expression softened. “Of course I want that. But I also want you to be safe. Rowe is unpredictable, and I have made him angry. He may try to attack again. I would prefer if you were not here when he does.”