Page 268 of Split or Swallow

“Tem, I—”

But Tem held up her palm, and he fell silent. Hot, burning betrayal twisted her insides into a painful knot. It was similar to the way she’d felt when he’d told her she was a Hybreed. Tem tried to control her heartbeat, but it was no use.

“I want to go home,” she said, standing abruptly.

“You cannot leave—” Caspen stood too, following her to the doorway, “—you must transition—”

Tem whirled around to face him.

“You think I want to have sex with you after what you just told me?”

Caspen tried to touch her shoulders but she shook him off.

“We do not have to have sex,” he said. “But you must practice, Tem. You need to—”

“I need to what? What, Caspen? Transition so I can become more like you? A liar?”

His jaw tightened.

“Tem, please.”

“No. I don’t want to hear it. I’m going home.”

“At least let me walk you out. Rowe could still be—”

“I don’t need you to walk me out, Caspen. I don’t need anything from you.”

And with that, Tem ran from his chambers.

The passageway was empty; Rowe was long gone. Caspen’s blood was drying in a pool, and Tem leaped over it on her way out. She broke into a sprint as soon as she was on the trail, not stopping until she was all the way home.

Her mother was already in bed; the cottage was silent.

Tem went immediately to her room. She tore the claw from between her legs and shoved it into her dresser drawer, not wanting to receive a single pulse from Caspen tonight. She severed their mental connection, making sure there was no way he could access her mind, even while she slept. Then Tem crawled into bed and cried herself to sleep.

The next morning was blustery.

Tem didn’t mind; her mood matched the weather. When her mother knocked on her bedroom door to call her to breakfast, she simply pretended to be asleep. Tem wanted no part of the world today. She wanted no part of any of it—of Caspen’s world, of Leo’s, of her own. There were nowhere to go—nowhere to hide—nowhere that would shelter her from the reality of her situation.

Tem rolled over, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes traced the familiar knots in the wooden beams above her bed, and she wondered if it was the last time she’d be seeing them. She could recall a hundred nights crying herself to sleep in this very bed—a thousand where she’d been too tired to even do that. Her entire childhood had been spent struggling to fit in, struggling to feel right. Now that she knew the truth, somehow she felt little peace. Now there were two worlds she didn’t belong to.

And what of the blood bond? Adelaide had said what happened with Rowe couldn’t happen again—that they needed to keep each other safe. What did she mean by that? Caspen would have the answer. But Tem had no desire to speak with him. She wasn’t interested in hearing any more lies.

Finally, Tem rose. Her mother was in the kitchen.

“I saw the invitation,” she pointed at the letter on the table. “Are you ready for tonight?”

Tem sighed. Nothing could possibly prepare her for the ball.

“I don’t know,” she said.

Sympathy creased her mother’s forehead.

“My dear,” she crossed to Tem, placing a hand on her cheek. “You have made it this far. What’s a little further?”

Tem sat numbly, staring at Leo’s note.

It was true. She had made it this far.