Page 59 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

“No,” I said. “I’m angry because you didn’t explain why you left. You made a choice and vanished before I even understood what it meant. You’re impossible to read, Con.”

Something flickered in his eyes—regret, maybe. “You’re right. I should have spoken to you first.”

The admission settled between us like a fragile truce. I forced myself—just this once—to see it from his side. A man who’d lived centuries as a weapon, who’d woken from something intimate only to face the world demanding he be unbreakable. He’d been alone so long that letting someone in must have felt like failure.

I sighed, heavy. “I’m not exactly winning ‘girlfriend of the year,’ either.”

That earned a real, if small, smile.

“No,” he said quietly. “You’re not.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he added,

“Because you’re not my girlfriend, Cassara.”

My breath stilled. “Oh really? Then what am I?”

He stepped close—so close I could see the shimmer of gold and red threading through his eyes.

“You’re my bride.”

The words hit like a bolt of lightning.

I stared at him, unsure I’d heard correctly. “Your—what?”

“My bride,” he repeated, unwavering. “You think I would share a night like that with someone I didn’t intend to keep?”

The air seemed to thin, heat curling between us again—not anger this time, but something heavier. Dangerous.

“You—you can’t just decide that,” I managed.

“I didn’t decide it,” he said. “I acknowledged it. There’s a difference.”

My pulse thundered. My magic hummed against my skin.

I wanted to argue. I wanted to deny it. But his tone wasn’t possessive—it was a vow spoken like stone.

He closed the final distance until his breath brushed my temple, steel and smoke and something undeniably him.

“You can hate me if you must,” he murmured. “You can fight me. You can run. But do not doubt this, Cassara. You are mine—and I am yours. That’s what this means.”

The training hall fell silent, the weight of his words sinking deep, irrevocable.

And as I met his gaze—golden, unyielding, fierce—the anger that had fueled me all morning twisted into something else entirely.

Something I didn’t dare name.

Something that had already claimed me long before he spoke the word bride.

CHAPTER 18

The air between us was electric when the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. Con and I turned at the same time as the doors to the training room swung open. A young vampire stumbled in, nervous and wide-eyed, clutching a folded note.

“Constantine,” the messenger said, bowing quickly. “The jet’s fueling now. We’ve been told to prepare for departure.”

Con gave a curt nod, his expression shifting instantly from personal to professional. The mask of command slid back into place so seamlessly it made something twist in my chest.

“Understood,” he said. “We’ll depart as scheduled.”