Page 85 of Kneel Before Me

He chuckled, running a hand through his long hair. “So I did.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He regarded her calmly. “Perhaps I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

Daphne watched him as he watched her, drinking in his magnificence. It seemed wholly unfair that a man could look the way he did. She stared at the angles of his lower abdomen, imagining they were arrows pointing directly to his cock.

“Are you ever going to fuck me?” she whispered.

He smiled. “Yes.”

“When?”

“When you are in love with me.”

Daphne couldn’t believe this. He was taking on her goal as his own. She found it significant that he hadn’t reversed it—that he was waiting until she loved him, not until he loved her. She wondered whether that mattered.

“You seem confident I will love you.”

His smile widened. “That is because I am.”

Daphne propped herself up on her elbow so she could glare at him properly. “And why is that?”

In response, Kronos lay down next to her, pulling her into his arms so there was no possible escape from his embrace. Daphne placed her hand over his scar, feeling his heartbeat, which was racing just as fast as hers.

“You ask too many questions, Daphne.”

“Only because you give too few answers.”

“Not every question requires an answer.”

“Mine do.”

She wasn’t surprised when Kronos didn’t reply. She was, however, surprised when he kissed her. Daphne hadn’t expected there to be anything…after. Anytime a man fucked her, he disappeared almost immediately. Not Kronos. He kissed her for hours. And when they were done kissing he simply stared at her, breathing her in, sinking deep into the moment without fear, encouraging Daphne to do the same.

He brushed his fingers along her jaw before tracing her lips so tenderly he might have been touching snow. The intimacy was staggering. Daphne felt the sudden need to draw away. Before she could do so, Kronos leaned forward and trailed his lips down her neck, as if he knew she needed a break from his arresting eye contact.

Daphne arched her head back, exposing her throat to a predator. Even now, she had never felt more safe. He kissed her neck until she was pulling him back to her lips again. Then he kissed her some more. Daphne fell asleep in his arms, her head against his chest, every wall she’d built rapidly crumbling down.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Caspen

Caspen stared out over the village, his mood becoming worse by the minute.

Below him the villagers were decorating the town square for their annual festival to celebrate their victory in the war against the basilisks. Rooster feathers were scattered, while golden flags hung from every eave, symbolizing the defeat of his people. Caspen hated the asinine tradition, but he hated what came next even more. At the end of the weeklong festival, the Passing of the Crown would occur. The king would take the stage with his son and place a golden crown upon his head—a crown made from the blood of the basilisks. For centuries, the royals had imprisoned the basilisks in order to exploit the fact that their blood could be alchemized into gold. The captured basilisks were kept in the castle, doomed to a lifetime of servitude to the royals.

The official transfer of power would occur at the wedding, but the ceremony was a way for the current king to express his faith in his son. Caspen watched the Passing of the Crown every year. As far as he knew, he was the only basilisk to do so. It was a reminder that the war had never truly ended. Although the battle was over, the basilisks were still at the mercy of the humans. Caspen had come here to remember that fact—to make himself angry enough to do what he knew needed to be done.

The basilisks held their own traditions in autumn, including mating season, which occurred every year. But that was still weeks away. Until then, the sole focus would be the Ranking. All basilisks would be in attendance, although only the top twelve contenders for the throne would participate in the actual event. Its structure was unique: three challenges, all sexual, all designed to eliminate those who were not fit to rule. All basilisks were especially feral during this time, desperate to secure the advantage for their quiver. Caspen was no stranger to it himself; the Ranking was a venerated event. It was a chance for anyone who was falling behind in the competition to regain ground. Whoever won the Ranking was directly in line for the throne, although victory did not guarantee the title of Serpent King. After the Ranking, a closing ceremony would occur. On that night, Kora would choose whether or not to pass the power to the basilisk with the highest rank. It would be a momentous occasion; the blood in the vial of the new Serpent King would turn black. If Kora did not choose to pass the power, the current Serpent King would remain in power.

Eventually Caspen made his way back to the caves, transitioning back into his human form just before he reached the passageway. The lake was packed; everyone was cheerful in the nights leading up to the Ranking. Caspen spotted his brother at the edge of the shore with Harmony. Half of him wanted to tear her away from Apollo. The other half hated himself for caring at all. He turned away from them only to run immediately into Agnes, whose face bore a pout.

“You went without me.”

“I beg your pardon?”