Split or Swallow (Split or Swallow, #1)

by Lindsay Straube

“How do you always know?” she whispered. “Know what, Tem?” “How to make me feel better.” He chuckled softly. “I never know. I just try something and hope for the best.”

He was right; it was enough. Tem knew she was lashing out for reasons that had nothing to do with him. She was nervous for tomorrow, she was frustrated with herself, she was feeling desperate and unsteady and utterly out of control. She was consumed with need. Tem wanted more. She’d wanted more since the very first night she’d come into this cave. But she couldn’t rush Caspen. He was immovable—an ancient basilisk who wouldn’t be swayed by her or anyone else. As much as she wanted more from him, she wouldn’t get it until he was ready to give it. So for once, she stood down.

“I’ll never get a straight answer from you, will I?” “Probably not. But isn’t it more fun that way?” “Yes,” he said. “It certainly is.”

She spent the next hour tracking down each girl left in the competition, subtly steering the topic toward their time in the caves, the twist in her chest becoming tighter with each conversation. They were all having sex. Every single one of them. Which meant that Tem was the only girl whose basilisk wasn’t fucking her. It felt like the surprise elimination all over again—like she was the ugliest girl in the room—like she was the girl that nobody wanted.

People parted for Tem like she was made of fire. By the time she got to Leo, a small circle had already cleared. He looked down at her calmly as she marched right up to him, grabbed his face, and kissed him. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t Caspen. But it was a kiss, and she needed it, and Leo kissed her back without hesitation, pulling her against him as if he’d been expecting this from her all along. And maybe he had.

The events of last night were still a blur to her. She’d tossed and turned until dawn, replaying her kiss with Leo again and again until she’d memorized every moment of it. She remembered his tongue in her mouth and his hands on her waist. She remembered the way he’d gripped her like she was the very air he breathed. Kissing Leo was different than kissing Caspen—the prince was younger and looser and free, with none of the restrained power or deep, complicated seriousness that radiated off the basilisk. None of the depth of character either. But at least the prince wanted to fuck her.

Tem stared at the package. With a sigh, she ripped the paper perhaps more aggressively than necessary, and a dress tumbled into her hands. It was beautiful. There was no doubt about it. Tight and velvet and dangerously low cut. But Tem hated it. It was sexy and revealing and clearly meant for Leo’s pleasure alone. Caspen’s dresses had complimented her, accentuating her beauty. Leo’s dress had a decidedly different purpose: to reveal as much of her body as possible. Tem’s ingrained stubbornness balked at the idea of wearing such a dress. All she could think about was how different it was from what Caspen would have chosen. But it didn’t matter what Caspen would have chosen. He didn’t care about her. He refused to have sex with her. And he certainly wasn’t going on a date with her tonight. There was nothing for it.

“Thelonius has taken a liking to you.” I wish he hadn’t, Tem thought violently. Out loud, she said: “It appears that way.” “Are his feelings reciprocated?” She fought the urge to make a face. “That’s really none of your business,” she muttered. Maximus leaned in. He had the same gold incisors as Leo. “Who my son loves is invariably my business.” “Loves?” “He can’t take his eyes off of you.” “Maybe he needs his eyes checked,” Tem said tartly. “Do not make light of this. Even now, he watches.”

“Something funny?” Tem prompted. “Certainly not,” he rearranged his expression until it resembled neutrality. “I just can’t picture you on a farm.” His eyes went to her breasts. They’d been going there all night, but now they lingered. “Surprising,” Tem shot back, “considering you act like a pig.” Leo let out another deep laugh. The meaner she was to him, the more he seemed to enjoy himself. “I can’t help it if I like what I see.” “You’re only seeing it because you chose this dress.” “I thought you said you weren’t offended.” “And I thought you said you’d make it up to me.” “So I did.”

“So difficult to please. What am I going to do with you, Tem?” Tem returned her attention to her salad. “That’s for you to figure out.”

“Do you know what else I want?” Leo took far too long to answer. “What’s that, Tem?” “An apology.” He blinked. “For what?” “For ranking me last during the first elimination.” His eyes slowly found their way back up to hers. “I thought we were past that.” “We aren’t.” Leo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry I ranked you last.” Tem shook her head. “Say it like you meet it.” He flashed his gold teeth. “Is that an order?” She held his gaze. “Yes.” The abject hunger in his eyes was undeniable. He trailed a single finger down the stem of his wine glass, taking his time before answering. “Tem,” he said quietly, “You were the most beautiful girl in the room that night. I never should have ranked you last. It was just another way to lie, and I’m sorry I did it.”

“You know you’re the only girl who isn’t throwing herself at my feet? All the others had their hands down my trousers the first night they met me. But not you. How should I interpret that, Tem?” She shrugged stiffly. “Interpret it however you like.” He leaned in even more. “What I would like is for you to tell me how you feel about me.” He was far too close to her. But despite his proximity, Tem found she didn’t want to lean away. She liked the way he smelled. And she liked the way he was looking at her. Tem wasn’t used to men looking at her that way—like they wanted her—like she was worth something. The feeling was like a drug. Lilly’s words ran through her mind: He always wants what he can’t have.

“Aren’t you curious to know how I feel about you?” “I think I can guess.” “Can you?” Leo looked down at her. “Then by all means, Tem,” he splayed his hands open. “Guess.” Tem looked up into his gray eyes, deciding how much she wanted to say. It was a delicate subject, and if she didn’t tread carefully, she might offend him. Then again, nothing seemed to offend Leo. It was almost as if he enjoyed her insults. Tem wondered if she was the only person in his life who didn’t completely cater to his every want and need. If that was the case, it put her in a position of power, and she savored it.

“I think I confuse you.” Leo raised an eyebrow. “How so?” “I think you like me, but you don’t know why. You want me, but you wish you didn’t. You’re used to getting what you want, but part of you likes that you can’t get me.” His other eyebrow rose. “Can’t I?” “No,” Tem said firmly. “Not until you’ve earned me.” His eyes flicked down her body, then back up again. “And you think you’re worth earning?” Tem held his gaze. “You think I’m worth earning.”

“I’m not going to kiss you,” he said. Tem was too shocked to react properly. “Why not?” He stepped closer. “Because if I kiss you, I’ll try to take you upstairs. And you’re not going to let me.” Tem opened her mouth but he kept talking: “And you were right. I’m not used to hearing the word ‘no’. And I don’t want to hear it from you. Certainly not after I had to see you in this dress—” he brushed his fingertips along her waist so lightly she almost didn’t notice until it was over, “—all fucking evening.” “You chose it,” she whispered. “Apparently I’m partial to torture.” There was a pause, and he stepped even closer. “I’m not going to kiss you. Instead I’m going to picture everything I want to do to you without that dress on. And I’m going to pretend that someday you’ll let me do it.” Her throat tightened. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. “You were wrong about one thing, though,” Leo continued, his voice eerily calm. “What’s that?” Tem managed to say. Leo took her hand in his, turning it over and pressing his lips to the freckles on her palm. He murmured his next words against her skin: “I know exactly why I like you.”

His consciousness curled around hers like a vice, gripping her at the base of her skull. The edges of her vision blurred, and she was suddenly light-headed. A moment later, strength entered her, and she realized it came from Caspen. She felt his energy join with hers, her mind clearing immediately as he fortified their connection. Tem found she could go on, quicker than before, and she sensed Caspen’s approval, feeling it in the back of her brain as if he were nodding inside her mind. It was an overwhelming sensation being intertwined with him like this. Tem knew she could do nothing but give in—there was no fighting his presence, and she did⁠n’t want to anyway. She only wanted to please him, and it was clear she was doing exactly that. Caspen’s breathing was ragged and strained; his thighs were slick with sweat. Tem knew from the way his moans had progressed that he was completely at her mercy. She was his weakness—the one thing he would never be able to fully resist. He needed what she was giving him.

Caspen was transitioning into his true form. A deafening hiss filled the cave as Caspen lurched backward, pushing Tem away. “You need to leave,” he growled. She barely understood the words—two razor sharp fangs were warping his mouth. His tongue was splitting in two. “No,” she said. Caspen’s hands were fisted into the mat, his back arched at an unnatural angle. “I am not asking.”

LEAVE ME, TEM. But she couldn’t leave Caspen. It was the last thing she would ever do. Despite every one of her instincts screaming otherwise, Tem moved closer. He was barely a man anymore. His once smooth skin was now a shiny expanse of black scales. Sharp, ridged horns were puncturing his back, growing straight out of his spine. His angular head was pointed at the ground, and she knew it was his attempt to protect her. She pressed the palms of her hands to what remained of his shoulders. He was blazing hot—it took everything she had to keep touching him—but the second she made contact, he stilled. “Caspen,” she whispered. “Stay with me.”

Tem. You must go. “I’m not going anywhere.” It is not safe. I will hurt you. “You won’t. I know you won’t.” The hiss surrounding them grew louder. His body was still changing, his head slowly rising toward hers. I cannot control it, Tem. “You have to try.” I AM TRYING. His rage was palpable. Tem was dripping with sweat; she couldn’t hold on much longer. Smoke seeped from between his scales, stinging her eyes. “Focus on something else,” she begged. “Focus on me.” Caspen didn’t reply. Perhaps he was beyond response. But Tem would not be dissuaded. “Focus on me, Caspen.” She said it firmly, like an order. Close your eyes. He ordered back. “No. Stay with me.” Something was dripping onto the mat. Tem looked down to see blood seeping from Caspen’s mouth. He was biting his own tongue. “Caspen, please,” she whispered.

For some inexplicable reason, she was not afraid. Instead, she felt the same peace she had felt the night before she came to the caves for the first time. She felt the same breath on her cheek—just one single breath, softer than a feather against her skin. She knew now what she had suspect⁠ed then: that it was Caspen in the dream—that he had drawn her to him like a moth to a flame.

Tem. His voice was in her mind, in her body, it was everywhere. “Caspen,” she said in return. At his name, the claw pulsed, and Tem let out a desperate whimper. It was so much stronger than usual—as if his true form allowed his power to operate at full force. “Again,” she pleaded. Another pulse came, more intense than the first. Tem cried out as her clitoris throbbed with pain instead of pleasure. Beautiful. One word. But it was all she needed. Tem’s hand went between her legs, pressing on the claw, fortifying their connection. The smoke skimmed over her skin in whorls and eddies, brushing her hair from her shoulders and exposing her breasts. She arched her back—wanting him to see that she would do anything—withstand anything—for him. His next words filled the cave, penetrating every inch of the air: I could eat you alive. “I could let you.”

Finally, the barrier between them was lowered. Finally, they were connected, just as they were always meant to be. Talking to Caspen was like sending her thoughts down a long, dark corridor and through an open door—one that until now, had been locked tightly. It felt natural to be joined with him like this, and Tem couldn’t believe it had taken so long for him to allow it.

Will you think of me? His reply was barely a whisper, lost in the wind: Constantly.

The tip of the claw gleamed between her legs, its pearly sheen glowing in the darkness. It was the most beautiful thing in the world to her—certainly the most beautiful thing she had ever owned. Although she wondered if she did truly own it. Could one even own a part of someone else? Was any part of Caspen hers to own? Tem wasn’t sure. All she knew was that he owned her completely, whether he wanted to or not. Tem

She pictured it with all her strength: her on top, him underneath, her palms splayed flat on his chest, his hands gripping her ass. She imagined how he would pull her against him with sharp thrusts, again and again, until they finished in unison. As she pictured them together, she felt Caspen’s hunger grow. He sent her a vision back—the mirror of her own, but this time from his perspective. He was looking up at her as she rode him, her face flushed with heat, her breasts pushed together. Was that what she looked like to him? Surely, he was embellishing the vision. Tem had never seen herself like that—beautiful, fierce—a sexual being—a woman. It was incredible to see what he saw, to view herself through the lens of his desire.

Beautiful. The claw went deeper. Perfect. Even deeper. Angel…fucking angel. She could barely take another second. Beautiful, perfect Tem. Fucking perfection.

I would give you anything you asked for, Tem.

“If you expect me to take my clothes off—” “I expect nothing of the sort,” he interrupted her. Tem scoffed. Leo’s mouth twisted in a smile. “Do you not believe me?” “Why would I?” Leo’s eyes traveled over her body. Even when she was covered from neck to toe, it felt like he was looking straight through her. “What I expect and what I want are two different things, Tem.” “And what, exactly, do you expect?” “I expect you to be difficult. Like you always are.” Tem crossed her arms. “And what do you want?” Leo took a long swallow of whiskey. “Whatever you’re willing to give me.”

“I don’t need to fuck you,” she said softly, her lips grazing his throat. “I don’t even need to take my clothes off. You want me so badly you’d marry me just for the chance to see me naked. Am I wrong?” Tem didn’t know where her courage came from. She was risking everything on this—her place in the competition, her mother’s reputation, her reputation. She was banking on Leo’s predictability, assuming that what his sister had carelessly said about him in the bathroom was not only completely true, but a surefire indicator of his future behavior. It was the biggest gamble she’d ever taken, and if she was wrong, it would cost her everything. A vein was twitching in Leo’s neck. Tem wanted to lick it. Instead, she waited. When he finally spoke, his voice was a raw groan: “You’re never wrong, Tem,” his eyes were hooded, the greed in them unmistakable. “I hate that about you.”

Leo’s hands grabbed her waist, nearly lifting her off the floor as his body curled down to intertwine with hers. She could taste every ounce of whiskey he’d consumed—along with something sweet, like honey. They didn’t bother going slow. His tongue was in her mouth; her chest was pressed against his. Tem matched Leo’s energy, giving him exactly what he was giving her, kissing him as hard as she wanted with no regard for consequences. It was liberating to be with him here—completely alone—where no one could see what they were doing. Tem felt irrefutably free, like she was flying over open water. She wondered if Leo felt the same.

“I’m still not taking my clothes off for you,” she said. Leo leaned in so his arms formed a cage around her head. “You assume I wouldn’t fuck you with your clothes on.” Tem rolled her eyes. “Don’t push it. You should be happy I let you kiss me.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “I am,” he lowered them slowly, and the smirk faded. “I am very happy.”

When Leo returned to her, he kissed her again. It was a proper kiss this time—one that built slowly, warming Tem from the inside out. His tongue traced along hers as his arms pulled her closer with unprecedented tenderness. He held her as if she were something precious to him—something sacred. In the sanctuary of his embrace, Tem forgot about the evening. She forgot about Vera, about Caspen, about the voice in the castle. There was only this kiss, right now, with Leo. When they finally pulled apart, the hourglass had long since run out. “So,” Tem whispered, her lips still an inch from his. “Will you keep me around?” Leo smiled, his gold teeth flashing in the dim light. “For as long as you’ll let me.”

She fell asleep thinking about Leo. She woke up thinking about Caspen.

“You are hurt,” he said. Tem followed his gaze to her breasts, where Jonathan’s greedy fingers had left several grape-sized bruises. “I’m fine,” she shook her head. Caspen reached for her, and she jerked away sharply, pulling the shirt up to block him. Caspen dropped his hands, his eyebrows knitting together. “I only mean to heal you, Tem. Nothing more.” “Oh,” Tem said. “Sorry.” “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he paused. “I will do it later, if you prefer.” His voice was soft. Tem wasn’t used to that tone from him. Their relationship had only recently become a collaborative one, and she didn’t know what to make of the way he was treating her tonight. But she knew one thing: Caspen would never touch her the way Jonathan had.

“You should only know pleasure,” Caspen murmured, tracing the curve of her breasts before filling his palms with them. “Never pain.” “Tell that to Jonathan,” Tem said without thinking. It was the first thing that popped into her mind, and she immediately regretted it. Caspen’s eyes narrowed. He looked her in the eye, and she saw all the anger in the world there. “I intend to.” Tem had never heard such fury in his voice before. “I…don’t want anyone to get hurt,” she whispered. Caspen smiled coldly, dropping his hands. “We cannot always get what we want, Tem.”

They were not dating, and the basilisk was not her boyfriend. He was a fearsome creature—one who was her mentor and her teacher, training her for a role. He could not possibly care about an ordinary girl like her. Not to mention that their last conversation had consisted of Tem telling him to remove the claw so she could undress in front of Leo. Caspen was probably furious with her. And yet. He had healed her. He had taken her into his private chambers, and he had protected her. Those were not the actions of someone who didn’t care. He could have sent her away when she showed up with her ripped dress. Instead he chose to comfort her. Surely that meant something. Tem stared at the fireplace, losing herself in the flames. She knew what she hoped would happen tonight. But would it?

“How did you get away from those boys?” “Oh. Um…” Tem paused, embarrassed at having to recount the story. “Why do you ask?” Caspen’s jaw clenched. “Because I need to picture you getting away,” he said, his voice low. “Otherwise I only picture you getting hurt, and that I cannot bear.”

“I only wish to protect you,” he said quietly. “This isn’t protection.” “Then what is it?” “Retaliation.” “Would you have me do nothing?” “I would have you be merciful.” Caspen snorted. “Mercy is for fools. I owe nobody my mercy.” “Not even me?” A pause. They studied each other in the flickering firelight. “I owe you many things, Tem. But mercy is not one of them.” Many things. What did he owe her? Her heart slammed in her chest as he raised his fingers to her face, brushing gently along her cheek. “Am I not allowed to protect you?” he murmured. “You are,” she murmured back. “I just didn’t realize you wanted to.” Caspen held her gaze. “Protecting you is only the beginning of what I want to do.”

“Do you know why I gave you a piece of myself?”​ He was referring to the claw. Tem had always wondered why he’d done it—what exactly it had meant to him. “No,” she said quietly. “Why?” His fingers returned to her face, cupping her cheek with his palm. “You surprised me.” Tem’s heart stopped at his words. It was the ultimate compliment considering how many people he had met in his unusually long life. “How?” The corner of his mouth twitched. “You asked me to undress.” “Oh. I can’t believe I did that. I figured it would make you angry.” “On the contrary. It made me curious.” “Curious?” “Yes,” he was still holding her face. “It made me want to know you.” “But why?” “Because, Tem,” he pulled her closer. “You are worth knowing.”

“I find you extraordinary, Tem.” Tem couldn’t fathom that. At her expression, Caspen leaned in. “Is that so difficult to believe?” Tem scoffed. “You’re the extraordinary one.” Caspen tilted his head in the way he did when he was considering something. “What do you find extraordinary about me?” he asked. “Everything,” she answered immediately.

“You are the extraordinary one.” “No. I’m not. I’m utterly ordinary.” Caspen sighed. “That is patently untrue. But I do not expect you to believe me.” “You don’t?” “No,” he said, the gold of his eyes flashing in the dim firelight. “You do not see yourself as I do.”

“How do you see me?” His eyes remained on hers for a long moment. “It would be easier to show you.” Before Tem had time to wonder what that meant, Caspen was pulling her to her feet. He positioned her so she was in front of the full-length mirror with him standing behind her. Gently, the motion so slow she barely noticed it was happening, he unlaced the linen shirt and slipped it from her shoulders. It fell to the ground. Then he brushed her hair back so she was completely uncovered. Despite herself, Tem blushed. She rarely used the mirror at home, and when she did she never looked at herself naked—certainly not for any prolonged amount of time. Her body had changed, she realized, since the last time she had really seen it. The awkward angles of her childhood were long gone. She had curves now, and rather impressive ones, thanks to the additional meals after her training sessions with Caspen. Her skin was tanned from hours spent outside on the farm, and her hair had lost its tight curls as it lengthened, framing her face with soft, graceful waves.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “Perfection.” Tem stared at the two of them in the mirror. She supposed it was possible someone might consider her pretty. But it took only one look at Caspen to dispel the notion that he could believe anything of the sort. His muscles were perfectly toned, his arms flexed in rigid precision around her waist. His jawline stood out in sharp contrast to the soft lines of her face, and his hair was somehow perfectly styled. Tem felt an insistent jab of jealousy as she looked at him. She would never hold herself the way he did—with such easy elegance—she would never look that effortless. She felt herself retreating inward, to the place where she’d learned to hide from the bullies at school. Caspen’s voice was suddenly in her mind. Do not do that. Do what? Do not compare yourself to me. I already told you I am nothing to aspire to.

We will try something different. Tem had no idea what to expect. A moment later, a curious sensation overtook her. It felt as if Caspen were pulling her—drawing her consciousness away from her body and down the shared corridor between their minds. For a moment, everything went completely black. When light returned, Tem was still looking at herself in the mirror. But instead of looking straight ahead, she was looking down, and she realized with a jolt that this was Caspen’s perspective. She was inside his eyes—inside his mind—and she was seeing herself, literally, from his viewpoint.

Now pay attention. His focus, and hers, returned to the mirror. It was like looking at herself through a kaleidoscope—the childish toys she had played with at the market after church—except instead of seeing a rainbow of fractured colors, she saw herself through all five senses. Suddenly she could smell her own scent—at least, how she smelled to Caspen—which was warm and rich and something else she immediately recognized, but couldn’t name. The sea. Caspen supplemented softly. You always smell like the sea.

His gaze wasn’t sexual, exactly, although it was impossible to remove sex from a basilisk’s mind entirely. It was more intimate than anything, and Tem watched in fascination as Caspen’s eyes explored the curve of her hips, the dip of her collarbones, the soft crease where her thighs pressed together. She felt his craving for her—the ache of want that lurked just beneath the surface of his thoughts—and the herculean effort it took him to suppress it. There was such unrestrained certainty in his desire—such unparalleled ownership—that Tem finally understood what Caspen had said earlier. Protecting her was his most basic instinct. It was at the forefront of his mind, even greater than his lust, which was stronger than anything she had ever felt. Caspen wanted her—need⁠ed—her. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, nothing he wouldn’t sacrifice—including himself—if it would guarantee her safety. Tem couldn’t believe Caspen was willing to be this vulnerable. It was like seeing straight into his heart. Everything he had said was true. He found her extraordinary.

Nobody could control you, Tem. But even if I could, I would not. She watched as Caspen traced his fingers slowly across her waist. The sensation was completely foreign to Tem. She could feel every one of her own heartbeats pounding insistently beneath his fingertips, speeding up as he trailed his hand down her stomach. The temperature of her skin increased the lower his hand went, and when he slipped his fingers inside her, she gasped, but not because she felt anything between her legs. Instead, she felt what he felt, which was a tidal wave of hunger so deeply animalistic and desperate that she had no idea how he didn’t unleash it immediately. He wanted her so badly—more, if it were even physically possible, than she wanted him. He wanted to taste her, he wanted to fuck her, he wanted to bury himself inside her. He wanted to hear the sounds she made when she came, and he wanted to hear them over and over and over again. He wanted to be the only one who understood her body, the only one who knew what turned her on, the only one to pleasure her. Caspen wanted her on a primal level—one that went far beyond the limitations of his true form or her courtship with the prince. He wanted her in a way that was possessive, irreversible, and guaranteed to result in consequences if he didn’t have her. He wanted her more than life itself, because a life without her wasn’t one he cared to live.

She was his sun. He revolved around her.

As they rode their waves together, Tem felt something seal itself between them—a bond that could never be broken. They belonged to each other now; there was no going back to the way things had been before they’d shared this essential, fundamental thing.

His sole purpose was no longer only to pleasure her. Now Caspen was taking as much as he was giving—consuming her wetness like he needed it to survive. A deafening hiss filled the cave as he pushed his tongue even further inside her. It went impossibly far—she ached as if she were being stretched. Tem moaned as he teased her clitoris and penetrated her center at the same time. Realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. His tongue had split.