Page 173 of Split or Swallow

Caspen grabbed her shoulders, shocking her into silence. He sighed, hanging his head and pressing his forehead gently to hers. “Put it out of your mind. It will not come to pass. I will never request it of you.”

To Tem’s surprise, she felt a flare of anger.

“Why not?” she stood taller. “Do you think I’m incapable?”

Caspen sighed.

“Tem. Do not do that.”

“Do what?”

“Do not bait me into saying something you will hold against me. It is not that I think you are incapable. It is that I would never subject you to something that should not be expected of anyone. It is not a tradition I wish to be a part of.”

“Then why did you propose to me in the first place?”

Caspen’s grip on her tightened.

“I proposed to you because a life without you is not a life I care to live.”

His words stopped her short. A life without Caspen wasn’t a life she cared to live either. But it didn’t make what he’d done any better.

Now it was Tem’s turn to close her eyes. She was still aware of Caspen before her, of the burning fire beside them. But she took a moment to delve deep within herself—to listen only to her own mind. Tem couldn’t believe Caspen had kept this from her. And yet, she understood why he’d done so. She was quite sure she wouldn’t have been able to absorb this information even a week ago. But things were different now. She was different now.

Tem opened her eyes.

“If it’s the only way I would be accepted, why wouldn’t you beg me to do it?”

A slight frown wrinkled Caspen’s brow.

“Because it is an insult, Tem.”

“It’s also tradition.”

“Fuck tradition.”

To her surprise, there was true anger in his eyes. Caspen was sometimes firm, often strict, but he rarely used profanity with such emphasis. Tem recalled their conversation about his strained relationship with his father—a relationship that surely wouldn’t improve if Tem were to have sex with him. It occurred to her that she was not the only one who would be affected by the ritual: Caspen would suffer in his own way.

“It is meant to test you,” Caspen continued. “Basilisks value sex above all else. It is how we measure our capability—how we determine who succeeds, who ascends, who rules. It is both a revered and deeply primal act: one that, the more it is done, and the better you are at it, the higher your position in our society. The king holds the highest male ranking. He earned that position through sex.”

“Earned?”

“Yes, Tem. Such is the basilisk way.”

Tem was in shock. At the look on her face, Caspen sighed.

“If the king approves of you, everyone will. Or at least, they should. The idea is that if you are worthy of the king, then you are worthy of any basilisk.”

So it was an initiation. Tem could understand that on a basic level—she could understand, theoretically, how the basilisks would want a human to prove themselves worthy.

“But he is your father,” she whispered.

Caspen sighed again.

“Yes. I am well aware of that. But this has always been the way things are done. I would not be the first son to experience this situation with my father.”

Tem shook her head. There were no words.

She thought about Leo’s relationship with his father. She could only imagine that Caspen, also a prince, had similar problems—problems that couldn’t be fixed with a single conversation—problems the depth of which Tem couldn’t possibly fathom.