Page 52 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

I rolled onto my side, smiling as he pulled me in, spooning me close. “Considering I’m the best fighter in the clan—aside from you and Rene—that shouldn’t be a problem.”

He sighed against my neck. “As long as you finally admit I am better.”

I laughed softly. “Dream on, Vonhof.”

CHAPTER 16

The light spilling through the curtains was soft and cold, the kind of gray dawn that carried no warmth. For a moment, I didn’t move. My body ached in quiet, unfamiliar ways—reminders of the night before—and the sheets around me were tangled, still scented with smoke, steel, and him.

But the bed was empty.

The realization hit before I was fully awake, a hollow ache spreading through my chest that had nothing to do with exhaustion. The space beside me was cold. No indentation. No note. Nothing.

I sat up slowly, clutching the sheet around me, my pulse uneven. The fire in the hearth had burned out completely, leaving only gray ash. The quiet pressed in until the only sound was my own breathing—unsteady, angry, humiliated.

For one wild heartbeat I wanted to believe he’d been called away, that some emergency had torn him from the room. But deep down, I knew better.

Con didn’t leave by accident.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and pressed my hands to my face, trying to calm the storm building in me. My skin still remembered the weight of his hands, the sound of his voice, the way he’d looked at me—as if I were the only thing in his world for that fleeting moment. I’d let myself believe it meant something more.

“Idiot,” I muttered under my breath.

I should’ve known better. Constantine Vonhof didn’t make mistakes. He calculated. He chose. And if he’d left without a word, it was because he’d already decided what last night was—and what it wasn’t.

My throat felt tight as I stood and crossed to the wardrobe. The anger made it easier to move. It was something solid to hold on to when everything else in me was shaking. I dressed fast—black training leathers, boots, jacket—slicking my hair back. My hands were steady by force of will alone.

I caught sight of myself in the mirror as I zipped my jacket. My reflection looked exactly the same as it always did—composed, controlled. But beneath the surface, I was vibrating, my power restless and frayed.

I’d made arrangements to train the new recruits that morning. I was already late. Perfect. Something I could hit that wouldn’t talk back.

The corridors of Shadow Thorn were busy as I stalked through them, the sound of voices and laughter echoing. A few vampires paused to greet me—young ones, eager, polite—but the look on my face must’ve been warning enough.

“Morning, Cassara⁠—”

I brushed past without slowing.

“Cass, are you⁠—”

“Not now.”

My voice came out harsher than I intended, but I didn’t care. Let them whisper after I passed. I was too raw to smooth the edges, too furious to play polite. Every step only fed the fire simmering under my skin.

By the time I reached the training facility, the sound of weapons clashing filled the air—metal against metal, fast and brutal. The scent of oil and leather mixed with the copper tang of blood. The wide hall was alive with movement—young death dealers sparring under the watchful eyes of older instructors.

And at the center of it all was Con.

He stood in the ring with two fledgling death dealers, stripped down to his black pants and boots, his skin gleaming with sweat. His movements were precise, efficient, devastating. He turned aside every strike the young men threw with infuriating ease, countering with controlled power that sent them sprawling more than once.

I froze at the edge of the ring, my heart hammering in my chest for reasons that had nothing to do with exertion. The sight of him—the focus, the command, the calm authority that came so easily to him—only twisted the knife deeper.

He looked exactly the same as he always did. Unshaken. Composed. Like the night before had never happened.

My anger solidified into something sharp and cold.

The two trainees recovered, circling him again, eager and reckless. Con moved between them with lethal grace, his voice low as he corrected their form, the tone calm but cutting. He didn’t even glance my way.

That stung more than I cared to admit.