Page 119 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

“Can’t you?” he asks softly.

Bomcroft gives a nervous laugh, and seems entirely unaware that he has planted his elbow in Marmala’s breakfast. “If I may, Your Highness—prolonged confinement to human form can be detrimental to a wolf’s mental health. Some studies suggest it may contribute to anxiety, depression and…” As he prattles on, I find myself staring at Nathaniel, and he looks back.

Enemies we may be, but for one brief, incredulous moment, we are united by the same thought.

Is he fucking serious? Mental health? Here?

Nathaniel’s mouth curves into a frosty smile, and the brief understanding between us vanishes beneath a chill that slides down my spine.

“I will consider your request,” he says, acid coating every word.

I give him my best curtsy. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

His gaze holds mine for one long, glacial second.

No one moves. Somewhere behind me, a spoon clatters against a plate. Then the silence fractures into a low rush of whispers, travelling through the hall like a draught beneath a door.

I itch to reach across the table and help myself to his wine, but I have humiliated him enough for one morning. In truth, I do not dare push him any further.

Descending the steps feels better than anything has in a month. Triumph makes me feel almost weightless, and I practically skip the last few.

The whispers swell as I descend. By the time I pass the middle tier, I can make out fragments from the vampire students—the prince collared her? Did he? Why would he? So is he her Master or isn’t he?—and by the time I sink back down into the pit, Susie is staring at me with her mouth open, and Harvey is grinning around a spoon.

“What,” Becky breathes, her expression scandalised, “was that?”

I do not answer; instead I help myself to my breakfast, mostly for show. My heart is still hammering unpleasantly in my chest, but I force myself to have a few mouthfuls.

Susie watches me with a crease between her brows, lips parted as though she wants to say something.

Clara gets there first.

“We don’t normally go up there, you know,” she says worriedly, entirely missing the point. “Ever.”

“Never,” Susie adds quietly.

I barely glance at her, but I offer Clara a helpless shrug. “Oh.”

Harvey shakes his head incredulously at me. “You’ve got balls.”

And though he doesn’t quite smile, he eats a spoonful of porridge.

Across the pit, I notice Chelsea Poplarin watching me. Her demeanour doesn’t seem hostile, more wary. I hold her gaze until she looks away first. Beside her, Mark catches my eye and gives an impressed nod.

I give him a brief nod before turning away. In truth, I still do not know whether I have done the right thing or something catastrophically foolish. The whispers are still spreading through the hall, passing from table to table faster than I can follow. For better or for worse, no one at the Academy will doubt I belong to the prince now.

I risk a glance upwards and spot Victoria staring at me from her table, her face unnaturally still. When our eyes meet, her fingers tighten around the stem of her goblet. One of her friends leans close and whispers something in her ear. Victoria’s mouth twists into a sneer. She murmurs something back without taking her eyes from me, and although I cannot hear the words, her friend follows her gaze. Then they both laugh and turn away. The performance does not fool me. I have gotten beneath her skin.

Good.

Whatever she says to Nathaniel later is bound to make his life more difficult, and I find I rather like the thought.

Was I brash? Maybe. But it felt good to defy him. It made me feel like myself again. And with my heart pounding hard and every wolf in the pit watching, I cannot help feeling that I have won something back.

FELLATIO.

Professor Zott writes the word across the blackboard with a flourish, dusts the chalk from his fingers and beams at us.

My mind, which had been somewhere between the staff table and the various ways one might smuggle a knife into a prince’s bedroom, wherever that may be, snaps unpleasantly back into the room.