Page 206 of Split or Swallow

I will be gentle.

But he couldn’t be gentle. Every time their eyes met, she could practically feel his hunger. The scales on his shoulders were spreading; his skin was scorching to the touch. She could taste smoke on his tongue. He was transitioning before her, his body slipping into its true form against his will. Nobody—not even Caspen, with his unparalleled self control—could change his fundamental nature. Tem was prepared to argue again. But before she could, Bastian stepped forward.

Tem froze as father and son stared at each other once more.

Her heart leaped in anticipation. Was there a problem? Had they done something wrong? Was the ritual over? Tem glanced up at the sky. It was not yet midnight. She looked at Caspen, but his face revealed nothing. After a moment, Bastian stepped back again, crossing his arms and leaning once more against the wall.

What did he say?

Caspen’s eyes met hers.

We have one hour left.

Dread pooled in Tem’s stomach. An hour.

It was far too long. She knew her body; she couldn’t go another hour like this.

I will try to be gentle, Tem. But I…

Caspen didn’t finish his sentence. Tem finished it for him:

But you can’t.

He was still thrusting slowly, still trying to resist. He buried his head in her shoulder; he couldn’t even look at her anymore. She could feel his heartbeat—normally so slow and steady—beating erratically against her chest.

He was fighting. But he was losing.

Caspen’s body refused to behave; the monster inside him was dying to get out. Tem pressed her palms against his shoulders. His skin was white-hot.

Just hurt me, Caspen.

No.

Even if you’re gentle, I’m not going to make it.

He shook his head. But they both knew she was right.

Hurt me, Caspen. Then heal me. It’s the only way.

I cannot.

You don’t have a choice.

I will not.

But it was not a matter of will.

I trust you, Caspen.

It was true. There was no one she trusted more.

The crowd of basilisks had grown. Tem wasn’t surprised; this was the grand finale, after all. This final hour would determine whether everything had been worth it—whether Tem was worth it.

Caspen rolled on top of her. Tem knew it was his way of protecting her from himself. This way her body was covered—she was no longer on display, and Caspen could control the pace. Tem heard just a singular thought in his mind, desperate and deliberate:

Keep her safe.

He clung to it like a life raft, syncing his thrusts to its rhythm, chanting it again and again and again. It was a temporary solution; nothing could prevent what was coming. Caspen was pressing her into the mattress; his skin was burning her alive. Despite being soaking wet, Tem felt as if she were straining to take his cock—as if he were growing inside her. He no longer felt the way he always felt. He felt hard⁠er. Tem remembered the first time she’d stroked him in the cave—how her hand had bled.