Page 175 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

He halts, his gaze still hazed and fixed upon my mouth. “Hmm?”

“My room. How did you know I was not there?”

His attention returns slowly. “Your bed was empty.”

I jerk back and cross my arms, partly against the cold. My teeth chatter, though I remain close enough to feel his warmth.

“You entered my room in the middle of the night?”

“Yes. I had taken an extra patrol around the grounds. After the way you left my quarters, I wanted to check on you.”

“You patrol the Academy?” Somehow, that surprises me more than finding him in my room.

“You knew I was an enforcer.”

“Yes, but I assumed you spent your nights lounging about, being insufferable.”

“I lounge only when I am not performing duties in service to the Crown.”

“Such as smuggling illegal wolves into schools beneath your father’s nose?”

“I only do that for the pretty ones.”

I roll my eyes and try not to be charmed by the smug curve of his mouth. He gives me the strange impression that he might smile often, if the world were kinder.

If he were kinder. But he is not. So I keep my arms crossed and take another small step back, even though I instantly feel the wind sear my left wing.

“What about the assembly hall? Care to explain how you found me there?”

“I was patrolling.”

“Rubbish. I was careful. No one saw me enter. But you went in there looking for me. Do not deny it,” I add when he opens his mouth.

His expression turns regretful. “I regret to inform you that you never truly had a chance of escaping.”

I jerk my head back with a frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he says, measuring his words, “there is nowhere you can go that I cannot find you.”

The threat in it is unmistakable. So is the warning. But I’m frustrated by another cryptic answer.

“Fine,” I say. “Then answer this. How, exactly, did you—”

“No, no, no. My turn.” He’s smiling again, shrewd and playful and insufferable. “Tell me, how on earth did you remove the collar?”

I shrug. “Oh, I’m not really sure. I was in the library doing my homework when it just…slipped and fell.”

“Kira.”

“Nathaniel.”

The way he says my name sends a traitorous flutter through my stomach—and makes answering with his in the same tone feel like a mistake. His gaze fixes on mine with unnerving intensity, as though there is nothing beyond this tower worth his attention.

“Tell me,” he presses. “How did you remove it?”

I lift my chin. “I have secrets too.”

His expression warms with wicked amusement, sending butterflies scattering in my stomach. Then his gaze drops to the collar upon his arm, and I follow it. The fragile warmth inside me dies.