Page 21 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

Finally, I stepped closer, just enough that the edge of my sleeve brushed his. “If you keep threatening every man who talks to me, we’re going to run out of couriers.”

That earned a huff of something that might have been amusement. “Then maybe they’ll learn to write instead.”

“Con—”

He turned to me fully then, the intensity in his gaze softening. “You shouldn’t have to deal with their attention. Not here. This is your home. You deserve peace.”

For a heartbeat, I didn’t know what to say. The anger I’d expected wasn’t there anymore—only quiet sincerity, layered with something that felt dangerously close to confession.

“I’m not sure peace is something we get anymore,” I said finally.

He nodded once, the hint of agreement in his eyes, then stepped back. “Then I’ll settle for quiet.”

“Starting now,” I said, arching a brow.

He inclined his head, but the knowing curve of his mouth betrayed him. “Starting now,” he repeated.

And as we continued down the hall, the echo of his growl still haunted the air—low, protective, and far too intimate to ignore.

The corridor had fallen quiet again, the air thick with the remnants of Con’s fury and something else—something heavier, unspoken. I could still feel it buzzing through the space, the way static clung to skin after lightning passed close. The sconces along the wall burned low, casting soft amber shadows that flickered across the black marble floor.

I turned to him, ready to say something sassy, something that might break the tension before it suffocated us both—but then he moved.

One step forward. Another.

His eyes, molten gold in the low light, locked on mine with a heat that rooted me in place. I should have looked away, should have said his name like a warning—but the word never made it past my lips.

Con’s hand came up, fingers brushing along my jaw, slow and careful, as if he were giving me a chance to stop him. The air between us was electric, thick with the scent of old stone and the trace of his cologne—cedar, smoke, and something darkly sweet.

Then his mouth was on mine.

The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was restrained only by the sheer force of his control—an old, aching hunger finally uncoiling after centuries of silence. His hand slid to the back of my neck, anchoring me, and for a moment, the world fell away.

I’d forgotten how to breathe. All I could feel was him—his body, solid and warm against mine, the strength in his grip, the low rumble in his chest that might’ve been a growl or a sigh. My magic stirred, unbidden, rising to meet the rush of heat coursing through me.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t fight it. I didn’t think. I just let go.

And then⁠—

A sound. A startled gasp from somewhere down the corridor.

The moment shattered. I broke away, my breath ragged, my heart pounding in my throat. The air between us crackled with everything that had just been said without words.

I took a step back, my fingers brushing my lips as I tried to steady myself. “You did that on purpose,” I said, my voice rougher than I meant it to be.

Con didn’t deny it. He just stood there, watching me, the hint of satisfaction flickering across his expression. Then he shrugged, utterly unrepentant. “At least the males here know what they have to deal with if they continue to pursue you.”

My eyes narrowed. “So that’s what this is? A warning?”

“Call it what you like,” he said evenly. “It was effective.”

Anger flared hot and fast through the haze of whatever that kiss had left behind. “I’m not your property, Con.”

His eyes darkened, the gold fading to deep amber, his voice low. “I’ve never claimed you were.”

“Then stop acting like it,” I snapped.

The silence that followed was suffocating. The tension between us was no longer subtle—it burned, alive and unrelenting, like a live wire sparking in the dark. Neither of us moved. Neither of us blinked.