am someone who loves you, Temperance. And I will not watch you die tonight.” “Excuse me?” Leo interjected. Tem held up her hand. “He doesn’t mean it like that, Leo. He just means—” “I mean it,” Apollo said firmly, enunciating each word. “In the way I have earned the right to mean it.” Basilisks were always being vague. But somehow this made sense to Tem. She understood how Apollo loved her: not like Leo did and certainly not like Caspen. Love can take many forms, just as Adelaide had said. He loved her the way she loved him—without expectation or judgment. Freely.
