Let Sleeping Vampires Lie Chapter 1 #2
My magic surged again, flickering hotter beneath my skin, and Con subtly stepped into my space, shielding me from too many watching eyes. His presence pressed against me, solid, grounding, willing some of the fire to ease.
But it didn’t fully fade.
Not when the clan was whispering.
Not when Siris’ smug little smirk was aimed at us from across the room.
Not when Rene was being casually debated like a fragile heirloom someone might drop and replace.
I stared at Edward, my voice low and lethal.
“Rene will not be replaced. Not by Siris. Not by anyone.”
Edward studied me for a long moment, then nodded once.
“I hope you’re right,” he said quietly. “For all our sakes.”
Siris’ laugh echoed from across the room. A cold, mocking sound that coiled around my spine.
Con heard it too.
His eyes flickered red.
And just like that, the real battle wasn’t with Valerian.
My magic surged.
A heated pulse that rolled up my spine and flared beneath my skin like molten metal trying to break free.
I caught myself tensing and forced my shoulders to stay loose, to look controlled even as a storm clawed inside me. The foyer’s soft lighting sharpened around the edges, becoming almost too bright, like the world was being carved in thin, burning lines.
Con stepped half a pace closer, close enough that I could feel the cold steadiness of him radiating against the heat pouring off me.
His voice was low, barely audible. “Easy, Cass.”
Easy.
Right.
My palms prickled, sparks licking over them like restless fireflies. I curled my fingers inward, hiding the glow, forcing my breathing into a slow rhythm even as the magic clawed for release.
The clan was watching.
Even if they pretended not to.
Even if their gazes dipped away the second I looked up.
They knew something had been different about me.
Since Valerian touched my mind.
Since Raven’s tethering spell.
And now, after tonight, everyone would know everything.
My magic.
My instability.
The very thing I had been trying to avoid.
I kept my expression neutral, jaw unclenched, voice even when I spoke—each word a careful, practiced blade. “We’ll hold the clan together. Rene will stabilize, and once he’s back on his feet, the whispers will stop.”
Edward watched me closely, too closely. His eyes flickered once, a tiny shift of surprise he didn’t bother hiding.
He felt it.
They all did.
Most vampires sensed magic the way humans sensed danger. A subtle shift in the air. A prickle across the senses. But when mine flared? It was like a sudden drop in atmospheric pressure before a lightning strike.
“You’re… unsettled tonight,” Edward murmured.
I hated the word unsettled.
It made me sound like a bomb waiting to go off.
“I’m fine,” I said sharply—too sharply.
Con angled his body ever so slightly, blocking Edward’s view of my hands as another spark snapped across my fingertips.
He covered the motion smoothly, arms folding across his chest as he shifted into a protective stance. It looked like posturing, like a warrior ready to challenge Siris or any other idiot in the room.
But it was for me.
He was shielding my tell.
My pulse hammered once, hard enough I felt it behind my teeth.
The warmth in my chest clashed with the rising magic, but I shoved both down. Hard.
Edward’s brows furrowed. “Cassara… controlling magic that doesn’t belong to you doesn’t make you weak. It makes you—”
“Don’t,” I cut in quietly.
He inclined his head, understanding the warning.
I wasn’t fragile.
I wasn’t unstable.
I wasn’t… compromised.
And I would not let anyone think that.
“It won’t happen again,” I said. Another lie wrapped in authority.
Edward didn’t press. Smart man.
Instead, he lowered his voice. “Siris will use anything as ammunition. He’ll say Rene is failing. He’ll say the clan is in chaos. He’ll say the overseer’s closest advisors can’t control their… own power.”
My jaw tightened.
That last one was aimed at me.
Intentionally.
And whether he meant to or not, the words landed like an exposed nerve.
Con felt the spike in my magic instantly. His gaze snapped to me—pointed, gold, concerned.
“Cass—”
“I’m fine,” I repeated, quieter, but steadier.
I forced the magic back down. Clamping it behind mental walls I wasn’t sure were actually strong enough.
The sparks dimmed.
The heat cooled from molten to simmer.
The air stopped humming around me.
But inside?
Chaos.
I’d been fighting two battles all night—
Valerian.
And myself.
And losing either one would end the same way.
Edward exhaled slowly, nodding once. “I’ll manage my people. You focus on yours.”
And with that, he slipped away, gathering the remnants of his faction before Siris could slither in and twist the narrative further.
When he was gone, Con turned to me fully, voice low enough that only I could hear. “Your magic—”
“Is fine,” I snapped.
His brows lifted a fraction, not in judgment but in that particular way he had when he saw directly through me.
“You’re holding it together by sheer force of will,” he murmured. “I can feel it.”
Of course he could.
He always did.
I looked away, focusing instead on the vampire groups still lingering, on the whispers, the tension, the way fear turned people into opportunists.
“I need them to see control,” I said finally. My voice felt raw. “I need them to trust that Rene’s inner circle isn’t falling apart.”
Con stepped closer, not touching, but his presence wrapped around me like a cold shield trying to cool the heat burning under my skin.
“Cass.” His voice was a steady anchor in a storm I didn’t ask for. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”
My throat tightened.
I swallowed it down.
“I can’t afford not to,” I whispered.
Because later tonight, the clan would know everything.
Every spell.
Every flare.
Every weakness.
And I needed to be the one thing they didn’t view as a liability.
Con didn’t argue.
He didn’t try to persuade me.
He simply stood there—unmoving, grounded, protective—letting me borrow a strength he’d never admit he offered freely.
I straightened my shoulders.
Forced a breath.
Smoothed my expression into controlled neutrality.
And prayed the magic stayed buried just a little longer.
Just long enough for the clan to believe I still had it together.
Even if I didn’t.
Even if I was one spark away from shattering.