Page 144 of Between Two Kings

They walked on in silence. Eventually, a structure emerged in the distance: a low brick wall with a run-down cottage just beyond. When they reached the wall, Apollo gestured with his hand. “After you.”

Tem rolled her eyes, knowing full well that he only wanted to watch her climb over the wall so he could stare at her ass. But she couldn’t care less at this point.

The cottage was crumbling in on itself; Tem couldn’t picture anyone actually living here. To their right was a chicken coop. There were hardly any chickens inside, but the sight still made her flinch.

“Why here?” she whispered. For some reason, it felt like she needed to be quiet.

“Its occupant is dying.”

“How do you know that?”

“I can tell.”

“But how?”

Apollo sighed. He looked at her. “I understand why my brother did not want to teach you to petrify. You are extraordinarily impatient.”

Tem smiled. They were always trying to teach her patience, these men. It was a skill she had no interest in learning, and if Caspen hadn’t succeeded in getting her to master it, Apollo certainly wouldn’t either. “He likes my impatience.”

“That, I cannot fathom.”

She shrugged. “He likes other things too.”

Apollo smirked. “Now that I can fathom.”

Tem pursed her lips. She would not be baited into flirting.

“Impatience is a maddening trait,” Apollo continued lightly. “I shudder to think what a task it must have been to train you.”

Tem rolled her eyes. “Maybe I already knew everything there was to know before I met Caspen.”

Apollo’s mouth twitched up at the sides. “Now, now, Temperance. Do not lie. Your heartbeat betrays you.”

Tem sighed. She could never get away with anything with the basilisks. She didn’t know why she cared in the first place. But for some reason, she didn’t want Apollo to think of her as inexperienced. She wanted him to view her as his equal.

“There is no shame in being a virgin,” Apollo said. “Even I was one once.”

Tem pursed her lips. Apollo was right, of course.

But being a virgin had been the bane of her existence for so long that it was difficult for her to extract herself from that mindset. Vera’s cruel taunts still haunted her. It had taken a long time to get over the feelings of inadequacy that had plagued Tem her entire childhood, and now that she was the object of Apollo’s sexual desire, she loathed the thought of him knowing how she used to be. It was a victory, somehow, to make someone like him want her. A victory she savored.

“I’m not ashamed,” Tem said sharply.

She had no doubt he could tell that was a lie too. But mercifully, Apollo didn’t retaliate. Instead, he said, “To answer your question, I can smell the decay. Their body has already given up. It is only their mind that keeps them here. Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

A sigh. “Must you question every single thing I tell you?”

“Yes.”

Another sigh. “If you close your eyes, your other senses will heighten. You will smell what I smell.”

Reluctantly, Tem closed her eyes. At first, there was only the familiar scent of smoke on Apollo’s skin. Then something else began to creep in: something dark. Decay.

Death was already upon this doorstep; Tem could sense it just as Apollo had. She sensed something else too: suffering. She could hear the human inside: an old man. Blood flowed sluggishly through his veins, coagulating. His lungs had corroded; each breath he took caused him excruciating pain. His heart was working far harder than it should to keep him alive—an signal of mortality, an undeniable ode to the fragility of humans. Tem couldn’t imagine all that muscle and blood turning to stone. She opened her eyes.

“How does petrification work?”