Page 139 of Split or Swallow

“You are not safe in my world, Tem. Every time you come here, it is a risk.”

Tem knew her excursions under the mountain were dangerous. But she also knew they were worth it.

“You keep me safe,” she said.

He shook his head.

“I am not always here. You were alone with Rowe tonight.”

“He didn’t do anything.”

“Only because I was nearby. Next time he will not hesitate.”

“To do what?”

“To crest you.”

Tem frowned. Crest her? It wasn’t a term she’d heard before.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

Instead of answering, Caspen lifted her off his lap and set her next to him on the bed. Anticipation slipped down her spine as he said:

“The crest is a way for a basilisk to gain power.”

Tem mulled this over. Basilisks drew their power from sex. Was he worried Rowe was going to have sex with her?

“Caspen,” she laid her palm on his shoulder, leaning in. “Nothing happened between us. I promise.”

He shook his head. “The crest is not sex.”

“Then how does it work?”

“Limited contact is required for the crest. Rowe would only need to touch you⁠—” as if to demonstrate, Caspen wrapped his hand around her throat before finishing quietly, “—in order to crest you. When you are crested, you are forced to orgasm. It is a violent, nonconsensual act. My venom will protect you from this.”

“But why would Rowe want to give me an orgasm?”

“Think of it as taking, not as giving.”

“I don’t understand,” Tem said.

“The crest is a way to extract power from a human. When you climax, the basilisk who crested you becomes stronger. Rowe wishes to draw power from you.”

“Can’t he crest anybody? Why me?”

“He can,” anger crept into Caspen’s voice. “But I took something dear to him. He wishes to do the same to me.”

“What did you take?”

Caspen didn’t answer.

Revenge is already mine to seek.

Tem used the pause to sort through her thoughts. She was struck again by how little she knew of Caspen’s world, and how out of step she was in it. There were untold dangers around every corner here—dangers she couldn’t anticipate because she didn’t know they existed in the first place. It was a problem that was beginning to feel insurmountable. She understood that she was at a disadvantage—that Caspen often had to act in her best interests, without her knowledge. But she didn’t always like the way he did it. And it wasn’t the first time; the stone statues of Jonathan and Christopher flashed through her mind. Yet another decision Caspen had made to protect her. Tem still considered herself responsible for their deaths. She probably always would.

Tem needed to know more. But Caspen clearly didn’t enjoy this line of questioning. This conversation was a minefield, and it was becoming increasingly impossible to navigate it.

She counted thirty long seconds before asking: