Page 48 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

We climbed the stairs. Every step was a battle. By the time we reached my suite, my limbs felt carved from stone.

Con opened the door. “Almost there,” he murmured.

I stepped inside—and the world dropped.

My knees buckled. Con caught me instantly, arms sweeping beneath me in one fluid motion. His heartbeat thudded against my cheek, steady where mine faltered.

“Cass.” His voice was threaded with fear. “Stay with me.”

I tried, but the darkness rose too fast. The last thing I felt was the warmth of his chest and the slight tremor in his breath.

Maybe he said my name again—soft, almost broken.

Then everything went black.

Warmth came first.

Not the distant heat of the hearth—but something closer, alive, wrapped around me like a shield.

Golden firelight flickered across the ceiling. Shadows danced in gentle arcs. It took me several slow breaths before I realized I was in my bed.

And I wasn’t alone.

My head rested on something solid and warm. A steady rise and fall beneath my cheek gave it away.

Con.

He lay on his side facing me, half in shadow. The firelight traced the lines of his face, softening the sharpness I’d come to expect. The tension he always carried—gone. He looked peaceful. Vulnerable.

My pulse stuttered.

He wasn’t holding me exactly, but he was close enough that the heat from his skin reached me through the thin fabric of my shirt. Someone—likely him—had changed me out of my battle gear. The thought sent a strange flutter through me, a mix of gratitude and something deeper.

I shifted, barely—and his hand twitched beneath the covers in response, brushing my hip before settling again.

I didn’t touch him. I didn’t dare. I just listened to his breathing, slow and even. The artifact pulsed on the bedside table, a soft glow that illuminated the outline of Con’s jaw.

For once, the world was quiet.

And I wasn’t alone.

Time passed—minutes or hours, I couldn’t tell—before his breathing shifted.

His lashes lifted.

Gold flickered through his eyes first… then the ember-red, like heat under coals.

He didn’t speak.

He simply watched me.

The silence between us tightened, heavy and charged. His shirt was gone, his skin warm from the fire. The lines of his body were power held still only by sheer will. The moment he realized how close I was, the muscles across his shoulders tensed, slow and subtle.

I didn’t move away.

Instead, I leaned in, resting my head near his shoulder. He shifted—not pulling me in, but giving me space to fit there, like he’d been waiting for it.

His pulse beneath my cheek was steady, but I felt the tremor in him. The want. The restraint.