Page 41 of Let Sleeping Vampires Lie

The room felt too small, too hot, too charged with everything we never said out loud.

“You can’t keep doing this,” he whispered.

“And you can’t keep pretending you don’t want me,” I shot back.

The air thickened between us.

Con’s eyes darkened, pupils expanding like a storm swallowing light. His chest rose and fell in fast, controlled breaths. His hands curled at his sides, as if he were physically restraining himself from reaching for me.

“You think I don’t want you?” he said, his voice low and rough. “Cass… I can’t stand in a room with you without wanting to drag you against a wall.”

My pulse stumbled.

“Then why don’t you?” I whispered.

“Because you don’t trust me.” His words trembled. “And I’m trying to give you time to adjust to our new dynamic since Shadow Thorn.”

Something primal flashed in his eyes. It was ancient, possessive, and dangerous.

It sent heat spiraling through me in a way that should have been illegal.

But I wasn’t backing down.

“If you’re so terrified of losing me,” I murmured, stepping toward him, “maybe stop pushing me away.”

“I’m not pushing,” he said, his voice a tight rasp. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

“I don’t need you to keep me alive.”

“No,” he breathed. “You need someone who won’t let you die for every goddamn person you care about.”

We stood inches apart now. Not touching. Barely breathing.

His jaw flexed.

“Cass,” he said softly, “I’m more afraid of you than I’ve ever been of Valerian.”

“Good,” I whispered. “Then we’re even.”

The tension cracked open like lightning.

But neither of us crossed the line.

Not yet.

Not when the world was on fire.

Not when Rene’s life hung on borrowed magic.

Not when we were adjusting to us.

But the electricity stayed, burning under our skin, coiling through every breath, every word.

The fight didn’t end.

It just shifted into something deeper.

Something inevitable.