Page 33 of Let Sleeping Vampires Lie

“He wants to see you,” Marcus told Raven. His voice was quiet, rough. “He’s—he’s not angry. Not anymore.” He swallowed hard. “Just hurt.”

Raven reached for my hand instinctively, steadying herself as much as she steadied me. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Marcus nodded. He didn’t trust his voice to say more.

He lingered for a moment, almost as if he wanted to apologize to Con or to me, but whatever words he might have offered evaporated. He gave us a final look, one full of remorse and fear and a fragile, desperate determination, then turned and swept down the stairs with long, quick strides.

When his footsteps faded, Raven squeezed my hand once, then reached for the suite door.

“Ready?” she asked.

“I’m right behind you,” I said.

Con stayed close as we followed her inside.

The moment the door clicked shut behind us, the atmosphere swallowed us whole.

Isra sat on the sofa nearest the window. The bright makeup that normally amplified his expressive features was smeared in soft lines beneath his eyes, like watercolor running down a painted canvas. He had wiped away tears at least a dozen times, and the aftermath painted a heartbreaking picture.

Still beautiful.

Still Isra.

But fragile in a way I had never seen before.

Raven flew to him instantly, dropping to her knees beside the couch and wrapping her arms around him.

He folded into her embrace like someone who had held themselves together too long and finally ran out of strength.

I stayed back with Con, giving them space but remaining close enough to listen.

Isra’s breath was shaky against Raven’s shoulder.

“I’m so tired,” he whispered.

Raven stroked the back of his head. “I know.”

“He lied to me,” Isra said, his voice cracking. “Not about loving me. I felt that through every moment. But about the things that matter. The things that can break us. How do I trust him again?”

Raven pressed her forehead gently against his temple. “One step at a time.”

Isra let out a trembling laugh. “You sound like Rene.”

She stiffened for a moment, then melted into the hug. “He always knows what to say.”

“So do you,” Isra murmured.

Raven’s breath caught on a soft sob she tried to swallow. I felt it through the bond—a spike of grief and fear intense enough to make my own chest tighten.

He pulled back slightly, cupping her cheek with glitter-covered fingertips. “Raven… don’t lose him. Don’t you dare lose him.”

She closed her eyes as tears escaped, carving shining tracks down her pale skin. “I’m trying,” she whispered. “But he’s slipping away. I can feel it.”

Isra looked at her with such tenderness it broke something inside me. “You’re stronger than you think.”

“I don’t feel strong,” she said, shaking her head.

“You don’t have to feel it,” Isra replied. “You just have to believe it.”