Kiss of the Basilisk (Split or Swallow, #1)

by Lindsay Straube

Say goodbye to the person you were before this book. And once you’ve read it, hand it to your friend so they can read it too.

Vera knew quite well that she had never seen one, at least not in person. There were plenty depicted on the marble statues that lined the steps leading up to the church, but those were nothing to write home about. They looked like baby carrots.

“You hold the stars in your hands,” her mother had always said, rubbing Tem’s fingers between hers. “Just like your father.”

“It couldn’t hurt to get you some practice before tomorrow.” “With who?” Tem asked bitterly. “I’m sure we can find a lively bartender who would delight in your company.” “The only bartender at the Horseman is Old Steve. You want me to fuck Old Steve?”

“You seriously can’t go two weeks without kissing a stable boy?” Tem said. Gabriel laughed. “I could. But why would I want to?”

All the girls took it, including Tem, although it wouldn’t matter during the training; it wasn’t possible to become pregnant by a basilisk. At least that’s what everyone said.

And if it were to happen, the baby would be an abomination of nature: half human, half basilisk, forever caught between the two species, never fully fitting in with either. But that was nonsense. Nobody Tem knew had ever met such a creature, and there was no reason to believe the rumors.

When she finally slept, she dreamed of fire. It didn’t burn her. Rather, it warmed her gently, from the tips of her toes to the base of her skull. The fire felt familiar somehow, as if it were sent by someone she had known a long time ago.

“Temperance,” she managed to whisper. “But I go by Tem.”

“My name is Caspenon. But I go by Caspen.”

If what he said was true, it meant that Caspen was the Serpent King: the legendary basilisk whose power was far superior to all the others. His reputation was exemplary in the village; people talked about him like he was a god. Tem had the most coveted teacher.

And yet basilisks couldn’t lie—they were fundamentally incapable of it. At least that was what all the legends said.

But Tem wasn’t accustomed to following orders. It went against every instinct in her body—it violated everything about who she was as a person.

“You will need to gain weight,” he said. “The prince requested a fuller girl.”

It was the easiest thing in the world to surrender to Caspen, to show herself at her most vulnerable, to lower her walls just for him.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Then it is like you.” The words were a breath. She barely heard them. But he had said them, and Tem knew she would never forget the first time a man had called her beautiful.

“What is its purpose?” “It will connect us while we are apart.” “How?” Caspen stepped closer. “You will keep it inside you.”

“Caspen sounds delicious.” “He’s a basilisk, Gabriel. He’s terrifying.” “Terrifyingly delicious.”

“So? Aren’t you going to ask me how to win his heart?” Tem didn’t know how to answer that. The only heart she really wanted to win was Caspen’s.

Do not touch that.

“I’d rather you didn’t lie to me,” the prince said. “Plenty of people do that already.”

At her reply, he smiled fully, and Tem saw that his lateral incisors were sheathed in gold and tapered to points.

“There’s no need to be rude,” she hissed. “I know there’s no need. I’m rude because I want to be.”

“Do you want me to be here?” Their faces were inches apart. Suddenly, the castle disappeared, and they were the only two people in existence.

For some reason, kissing seemed far more daunting than what they had already done. There was something simple about touching him and him touching her back. But a kiss required connection. It required them to move in tandem, to establish a rhythm with each other and an intimacy that she’d never experienced with another person before. To kiss someone was to taste them and to let them taste you. Tem couldn’t imagine a greater responsibility.

She knew they had crossed a line somewhere, probably the first night they met, when she’d asked him to undress and she’d touched herself in front of him. She was not just his student, and he was not just her teacher. They were more than that. They had to be.

They stared at each other for a long moment. His next words were barely a whisper. “You are not meant to be tamed, Tem.”

Without thinking, Tem’s hand went to his neck. Caspen’s eyes widened at the motion. Then they narrowed, and she heard his voice in her mind: Squeeze, little viper.

“You should not have doubted me.” She clung to him. It felt like her soul had been cracked open. “I hate that you have this much power over me.” To her surprise, he laughed. “What’s so funny?” His grin only widened. “Of the two of us, I am not the one with the power, Tem.”

Up until an hour ago, she’d thought there was nothing redeemable about Leo. But he’d revealed his true self when he’d talked about his father. There was a person under his insufferable exterior. And that person had a chance with 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.

“You chose it,” she whispered. “Apparently I’m partial to torture.”

There were no words to describe what had just happened. It was as if an invisible thread now connected her to Leo, as if his vulnerability and candor had weakened her defenses against him.

“I want to taste you.” Primal hunger bloomed in Caspen’s eyes. “As you wish,” he said quietly, his finger slipping down the expanse of her throat. “On your knees.”

She wanted to see Caspen in his true form. She wanted to understand this final, most fundamental part of him. It didn’t matter that it would surely kill her. Tem had never been afraid of dying anyway.

His next words filled the cave, penetrating every inch of the air: I could eat you alive. “I could let you.”

I would give you anything you asked for, Tem.

“Sixty seconds with you is worth an hour with Vera,” he said quietly.

“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.”