Page 165 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

“Above you.”

I release the beam.

Nathaniel spins as I drop from the ceiling and land hard on all fours.

He is winded from the chase. I could take him now—claws, teeth, weight. But the memory of his blood-soaked shirt flashes through my mind, along with the sickening fear that I had killed him.

Without time to question why I care, I sprint through the archway Arken took instead.

Nathaniel sees me move.

“Kira,” he gasps, clutching his side. “Stop!”

I bolt blindly, choosing each turn by instinct as his hammering footsteps close behind me. In these cramped, twisting corridors, he is faster.

Arken is nowhere in sight.

Only when I hurtle through another archway and find the spiral stairs of the North Tower rising before me do I realise where panic has driven me, my claws skidding across worn steps and my left wing flapping uncomfortably against the curved walls.

It’s too late to turn around—below, Nathaniel enters the stairwell. “Kira, wait!”

I run faster. The higher I climb, the louder the wind becomes, whistling through the narrow windows. The door to the Pet Obedience classroom waits at the top. Almost certainly locked, with nothing beyond it but a dead end and more windows. And I have a perfectly good window directly in front of me. Or I can stay and get caught.

That almost seems preferable as I stare at the narrow lancet window, terror flooding through me. Am I truly going to climb onto the rooftop? I must be insane. Or stubborn. Or simply desperate.

Nathaniel’s footsteps grow louder.

Fuck.

I take a running leap and launch myself at the glass.

Chapter 25

Kira

Ishut my eyes as my skull strikes it. The pane explodes outwards, shards vanishing into the darkness. I thrust my head and forelegs through the opening—but my shoulders lodge in the narrow frame. I twist, but my wings scrape uselessly, hind claws scrabbling over the floor.

The night wind tears at my face, so cold it feels like plunging into ice water. My shoulders are stuck.

No—

“Don’t!” Nathaniel’s voice climbs behind me, amplified by the stairwell’s curve. Shoving forward, I try to force my shoulders through the frame. It’s no use. I have to shift back.

Magic moves beneath my skin in an instant. My forelegs lengthen into human arms. Scales recede. The smock and uniform flow back over my body, and my ruff becomes wet brown hair whipping around my face. But I keep the wings.

Perhaps this was always the answer—to fly like this, human with wings. I’m lighter in this form. Maybe light enough for my wings to carry me properly.

It is an impulsive theory, but it is my only hope.

Glass cuts my palms as I climb through the window. The smock catches upon a jagged edge and tears. Blood wells across my hands and streaks over the stone.

From the corridor behind me comes the rapid strike of Nathaniel’s footsteps.

Just when I think I’ve made it, his fingers close firmly around my ankle.

“Kira—don’t. It’s dangerous.” He’s breathing hard, desperation stark on his face.

Dangerous?