Page 138 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

Heat rises beneath my skin, his words landing perilously close to a compliment.

“What if I want this?” My voice comes out low and steady.

“I find that exceedingly difficult to believe.”

“You don’t know what I want.” I hold his gaze, offering him a wounded expression. “I waited for you, you know. At the golf tournament.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you.” He doesn’t sound sorry, but his grip on my wrist loosens slightly, his fingers brushing my skin. Heat blooms beneath his fingertips and creeps up my arm like poison.

“And you never come to Zott’s class,” I accuse.

A small frown appears between his brows. “You cannot seriously have imagined I would. I am not—”

“My Master. Yes. I know.” My voice is low and resentful. “Do you have any idea how humiliating it is, sitting there every week wearing a collar, with everyone watching the door and wondering why I’m unwanted?”

Nathaniel gives me a scornful look that borders on pity. “Is that why you sought me out? Because you felt neglected? I had not realised you required someone to hold your hand.”

Frustration leaks into my voice. “You said that if I applied myself, I could be placed with a good Master when I graduate. But how am I supposed to do that if I never get the chance to practise? It’s like you expect me to fail.”

His voice lowers, the words delivered with cool certainty. “Failure has never been the concern.”

“No? Because you have made it almost impossible for me to succeed.”

He does not reply. Something flickers behind his eyes—surprise, then something tighter and more complicated—and I know I have struck the right nerve.

He brought me here expecting the Academy to break me, yet he must have known even before we stepped through those iron gates that it never quite would. Now I need him to believe it is happening anyway. That I am slowly breaking apart while still fighting it. Struggling to accept my circumstances even as I beg him to let me try.

Yes. Perhaps begging will help.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice gentler than I have ever allowed it to become with him. Then I seize upon a sliver of truth—something I have sensed without consciously admitting. For all his cruelty, Nathaniel possesses some warped sense of nobility. “Back at the cottage, you could have killed me, but instead you spared my life. You brought me here because you thought I might still have a chance of fitting into this society.” I let my voice falter. “I hated it here. Especially at first. And I’ve been struggling in class. I think you know that. But this is my chance. So please…help me.”

The disdain in his gaze gives way to cool consideration. And something that almost looks like sympathy. “Is that why you had Victoria bring you here?”

I give a small nod. “I had to see you alone. To ask…”

The words lodge in my throat. Even now, the question feels vile. But what does it matter? Once he is dead, no one will ever have to know.

“Yes?” he prompts.

I lower my eyes in shame. “To ask if you would at least train me to be a pet,” I finish.

He stares. “Train you?”

“You said I needed to learn. You could be my teacher.”

“Ah.”

He lets the silence stretch, considering me with an unnerving patience. I wait far longer than I expect to before he finally says, “I’m afraid that is not possible.”

“Why?”

“Because. I don’t believe you.”

The words pierce me with brutal precision. Before I can think of a reply, his gaze drops to my mouth.

“But,” he adds, squeezing my wrist before releasing it, “I am willing to be convinced.”

A shiver moves through me at the quiet promise in his voice. A grim prospect.