Page 345 of Split or Swallow

Tem turned to see Bastian’s blackened eyes searing straight into hers. Before she could speak, his hand wrapped around her throat.

Immediately, Tem felt her power seep in his direction. It was as if someone had begun to pour her into him, and the familiar euphoria from the crest started to swell over her. It would be so easy to give in. So simple. The king’s pull was undeniable—his ancient presence so much stronger than hers—strong enough to override the protection of Caspen’s venom. And yet, Tem found she was able to resist him. Every time he pulled at her, she pushed back. The king grew impatient; she could sense his agitation.

Yield.

Tem would not yield—not her body, and not her mind. Never.

She wanted to call for Caspen. But it took all her energy to hold off the king, and Caspen was occupied anyway. He was outnumbered, fighting two basilisks at once, trying to prevent them from ascending the stage. Tem didn’t even know whether he’d noticed what his father was trying to do to her.

Do as I say, Temperance.

No.

The king let out a growl of frustration. His grip on her throat tightened.

Tem watched in horror as scales crept up the sides of his neck. She tried to pull away but it was no use—he was holding her so tightly she could barely breathe. His mouth widened; his teeth became fangs. Tem knew, without a shadow of a doubt, what was about to happen. Still, nothing could prepare her for the way Bastian’s jaw unhinged itself, opening to reveal the dark abyss of his throat. Tem didn’t have time to think before his fangs crushed into her shoulder with terrifying finality, the force of their bite nearly causing her to black out right then. She felt her collarbone break with a horrible crunch.

Then her shoulder blade.

Then her sternum.

Pain like she’d never known shot through her. It was worse than when her pelvis had broken during the ritual. Agony was all she could feel—overtaking her mind and forcing her body into a state of shock. Tem knew the bite had a purpose: to weaken the part of her she was drawing power from. Her basilisk side wouldn’t be harmed by Bastian’s venom—but her human side would. It was the exact opposite of the problem she’d just solved by cresting herself.

All that work for nothing, she thought vaguely.

Tem tried to fight back. But her power was stretched too thin—she couldn’t free herself from Bastian’s grip, much less heal her shoulder. The king’s crest grew stronger, forcing her into submission. The well of power she drew from grew weak⁠er. She grew weaker.

Tem screamed as her feet left the stage, stars clouding her vision as Bastian lift⁠ed her into the air. All her weight yanked against the injury, pulling on her with enormous, merciless pressure.

TEM!

Caspen’s voice barely registered. Consciousness was fleeting. Bastian was mauling her—ripping her apart with monstrous glee. Her mind was numb; she couldn’t resist his crest any longer.

Then, without warning, he released her.

Tem fell with such speed that she thought her kneecaps might split open on the stage. She heard Caspen behind her—recognizing his roar and the smell of his smoke—as he attacked. Bastian fought back ferociously, matching his son with a roar of his own, landing blow after blow as they parried across the stage. But it was Caspen, finally, who landed a well-timed bite to the king’s face. Bastian howled in pain, collapsing in a writhing pile of scales.

He was transitioning again—slipping into his human form as he weakened. As scales became skin, Tem felt the pull of his crest retreat, and with it, the last barrier between her and the insurmountable pain in her shoulder.

As soon as the Serpent King resembled a man once more, Caspen bent his head. Tem watched as his glorious fangs emerged from his mouth, curving down into Bastian’s pale, exposed neck.

Bastian let out a tortured scream. The sound was so horrible it finally shattered Tem’s daze, yanking her violently back into the present.

Caspen!

He didn’t reply. There was no way he heard her over Bastian’s cries.

Caspen—

She tried again, flinching at the horrific thing happening before her.

STOP.

But Caspen didn’t stop. Instead, his fangs sank deeper into Bastian’s body, ripping his skin and splattering blood everywhere. Bastian’s ribs broke with a dull crunch as Caspen yanked the bones apart, forcing his way into his chest cavity, his mouth opening wider, his fangs slick with red. Tem saw Caspen’s throat bulge, then swallow. Horror twisted her stomach as she realized what was happening.

Caspen wasn’t killing Bastian quickly—that would have been a mercy, and he owed nobody his mercy. His father would be alive when he cannibalized him. Tem understood that it was Bastian’s punishment. It was only fair—it was exactly what Caspen had just watched him do to Tem.

Tem couldn’t save Bastian. She didn’t want to anyway. But she wanted dearly to save Caspen from himself. It was a terrible thing to kill your own father. More terrible still to do it in such a violent way. But there was nothing she could do. Her head was clouded with smoke; the entire right side of her body had gone numb. More of her was covered in blood than not, and she knew it was all hers.