Page 129 of Let Sleeping Vampires Lie

He chuckled. “Still so edgy, little bloodsucker.”

His attention returned to Raven. “You are glowing.”

Her jaw clenched. “Side effect of having my magic siphoned to save lives. Something you would not understand.”

“Oh, I understand sacrifice very well,” he said. “I simply prefer it to be made by other people. It keeps my schedule clear.”

He took a slow step forward. The floor did not creak under his weight. He cast no true shadow. He was here and not here at the same time, a warlock’s echo stitched through distance.

The fragment in Raven’s hand vibrated subtly.

“You should put that away,” Con repeated, voice low.

Raven did not.

“You are not touching this,” she told Valerian.

He spread his hands. “I am not touching anything. I am simply enjoying the view. Look at you, Raven. Carrying the shard, standing in the same room as the woman who nearly burned a hall to the ground. You gather power like a magnet.”

“I gather allies,” she said.

“Temporary,” he replied. “Fleeting. Do you know what is not temporary? The bond between us.”

“There is no bond,” she snapped.

“There has always been a bond,” he said. “From the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

“You want to own me,” she said.

He smiled. “Ownership is such an ugly word. I prefer connection.”

She laughed, a raw, harsh sound. “You prefer control.”

He did not deny it.

Raven lifted the fragment higher, as if tempted to throw it at him. The shard hummed more forcefully in her hand, attuned to the rising tension.

“If you continue this, Valerian, there will be nothing left of you worth saving,” she said. “Assuming there ever was.”

He pursed his lips in a mock pout. “You wound me.”

“You did that to yourself,” she said. “You took everything good you might have been and twisted it into a weapon aimed at the people who loved you.”

His eyes cooled. The mocking light faded for a moment, revealing something harsher beneath.

“Loved,” he repeated softly. “Past tense. They gave up on me first.”

“You slaughtered them,” she shot back.

He waved a hand. “Histories are so muddy. The details blur.”

“Not for me,” she said.

His gaze hardened. “You cling to old wounds as if they were a shield. They are not. They are chains. You wrap yourself in regret so you do not have to admit you miss what we had.”

Raven stared at him as if he had grown a second head. “I am no longer the witch you loved.”

“You will be when I kill the overseer.”