Page 10 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

Lilah lingered a moment longer, her gaze still fixed on Con’s retreating form. I caught her expression—curious, intrigued, and far too self-assured—and felt something twist low in my chest.

He turned his head just enough to meet my eyes before leaving the room. For a heartbeat, the noise faded, and the look he gave me was quiet, steady, grounding.

Then he was gone, leaving only the fading echo of boots and the buzz of training lights overhead.

Lilah finally exhaled, her voice a lazy drawl. “He’s as cold as they say.”

“Only when he wants to be,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.

But inside, I was already certain of one thing.

Tomorrow, when she stepped into that ring with him, she’d learn the same lesson every warrior eventually did.

You don’t flirt with Constantine Vonhof.

You survive him.

The training floor had quieted, the scent of sweat and iron fading into the low drone of the ventilation system. Most of the death dealers had dispersed to their quarters, leaving behind only the ghost of footsteps.

I was gathering my jacket from the railing when I heard her voice—smooth, casual, but carrying that thread of curiosity that always meant trouble.

“Cassara?”

I turned to see Lilah approaching. She’d unzipped her jacket, the dark leather framing a throat as pale as marble. Her braid had loosened, a few fiery strands slipping free to catch the light. She carried herself with the easy confidence of someone used to turning heads.

“Got a minute?” she asked.

I nodded, warily. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

She came to stand beside me, folding her arms and glancing toward the now-empty ring where Con had trained the twins. “I wanted to ask you something,” she said lightly, but her tone had that edge—the kind that wasn’t really a question but a probe. “About Constantine.”

My gut tightened, though I kept my face neutral. “What about him?”

She smiled, still studying the ring. “He’s… different. I’ve seen my share of commanders, but he doesn’t act like any I’ve met. He’s too controlled. Too still. Even when he fights, it’s like the rest of us are moving through water and he’s walking on air.” She turned her gaze back to me. “You trained under him, didn’t you?”

“Among others,” I said carefully.

“But mostly him.”

The corner of my mouth twitched. “You’ve done your homework.”

She shrugged, the motion lazy. “Everyone talks about it. About how close you two are.” Her voice dipped, almost playful now. “But I heard you’re not exactly the long-term type, so I figured that was just rumor.”

My jaw tightened, though I kept my tone even. “Rumors usually are.”

Lilah laughed softly. “You don’t have to be defensive. I’m not trying to start gossip. I’m just… curious. He’s not like the others, and I like a challenge.”

I met her gaze, steady and unreadable. “Then maybe you should ask him those questions.”

She arched a brow, clearly amused by my restraint. “So you’re not warning me off?”

“I don’t warn people,” I said, forcing a half-smile. “I let them make their own mistakes.”

That earned a low laugh, one that lingered too long. “Interesting philosophy.” She tilted her head, assessing me. “You really don’t care, do you? I mean, if someone else takes an interest in him?”

Something in her tone made the back of my neck prickle. I wanted to walk away, to shrug it off with a clever remark, but my throat felt tight. “You’ll have to excuse me,” I said finally, my voice lower than intended. “It’s been a long night.”

I left before she could answer, her soft laughter following me out of the training hall like smoke.