Page 6 of Bitten By the Basilisk

“And if neither of us likes the other?”

“She knows her role. It’s time you knew yours.”

Father had always been demanding, but Silas had hoped he would back off after stepping down as Basilisk. However, Gabriel seemed determined to see Silas mated with an heir on the way.

Serpent-folk had fewer chances than other supes to conceive a child, often taking years. Silas wasn’t opposed to being a father, but unlike his parents, he wanted his child’s parents to truly love each other. The last time his mother, Vesta, had been in the same room as his father had been a “family dinner” more than a month ago.

According to his father’s old lieutenant, Vesta had loved Gabriel when they’d first become mated, but it hadn’t been mutual, and her affection had turned into resentment the first time his father had cheated.

He would ask why they didn’t get divorced, but it would be rhetorical. His father’s desire for control was the reason, whereas his mother would lose ownership of Stone Jewelers and her stake in Stone Mining Group if she were to initiate divorce proceedings.

Before Silas could argue with his father any further, Basilisk Conrad returned with a familiar face in tow.

“Now that my glass is empty, allow me to introduce you to one of our candidates for this year’s festival,” Conrad announced, ushering forward the young lady whom Nic had pointed out earlier.

Silas forced a congenial smile and listened attentively as Conrad presented the debutante—his only daughter, Regina. Bruno had said she was barely of age, which serpent-folk considered to be twenty, but if Silas had to guess, her age still ended with -teen. She was attractive, with a serene sort of demeanor, but her smile was as forced as his was.

“Good evening, Basilisk Silas,” she greeted, dipping her head.

“Just Silas is fine.”

Conrad clapped his shoulder. “We’ll let you two talk.”

“Yes, excuse us a while,” his father said in parting, sending him a pointed look. Silas had never had to try so hard to conceal his frustration, not wanting to insult Regina.

“I believe I was not expected,” she remarked once they had privacy, wincing with guilt.

“It’s no trouble, really. The more the merrier.” He lifted his glass in a toast, then took a sip. “Our fathers clearly expect us to go through the motions of a courtship.”

“That was also my understanding. Are you seeking a mate?”

The tourist with the red scarf flashed before his mind’s eye. “Only in the truest sense of the word. You?”

“Truthfully?”

He smiled wryly. “That would be preferable.”

“I’m currently attending Brown. Then, only twenty-four hours ago, I was told I had to attend this festival, or else forfeit my tuition next semester.”

Silas sighed in disappointment. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” she said, her expression softening. “Of course, I would like a mate someday, but not right now.”

He nodded, the pressure in his chest easing. “I’ll be sure to smooth things over with your father, then. If he holds your tuition hostage anyway, let me know. I’ll pay it.” After all, his father’s meddling had endangered her education.

At first, she was stunned. “Brown is really expensive.”

“I’m aware.”

She smiled with gratitude, visibly relieved. “Thank you. Wow, I…I was honestly worried you would be…well, an asshole.”

He chuckled, raising his glass to take another sip. “I try not to be.”

“Allow me to return the favor, at least in part.” She took a step closer and lowered her voice. “My cousin Lance intends to challenge you.”

He took a deep breath but maintained his nonchalance, having already suspected that the rival who had nearly bested his father would try again with Silas.

Lance Larson was the son of the New York nest’s former Basilisk, now deceased, and he made no secret of the sort of Basilisk he would be.