Page 184 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

“I gathered that.”

His fingers pause beneath my chin. “Then why did you ask?”

Without waiting for an answer, he releases the clasp, and magic rushes through me so abruptly I gasp. My awareness expands beyond the cramped boundaries of my body, flooding through every vein and nerve. The hidden joints beneath my shoulder blades throb in recognition.

Nathaniel steps back, looking startled as I draw several deep breaths and sway slightly.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. Just…dizzy. I’m fine.”

“Whenever you’re ready, then. Shift.”

I hate that he adds the command. I climb from the bed. “If you’re going to give orders, you could at least ask politely.”

“I could.”

I glare at him as I loosen my back muscles. Scales ripple beneath my skin. My wings tear free, their talons scraping the rug as they unfold.

Pain flashes through the left joint, and my breath catches.

Nathaniel is beside me at once. “Look at me.”

“I’m fine.”

“Kira.”

Something in his voice makes me obey.

His face is close to mine, his blue eyes searching my expression. The gash beneath his eye has crusted over, but otherwise looks scarcely better than it did the night I gave it to him.

His hand settles carefully beneath my left wing. He tests the joint, then runs his fingers along the folded membrane. His touch is cool and clinical, yet every place he touches seems to remain aware of him after his hand moves on.

“Does that hurt?”

“No.”

He presses a fraction more firmly.

I hiss.

His eyes narrow. “You are a poor liar.”

“And you are an unpleasant prince.”

“Yes.” He stares at my wing, frowning. “I had hoped to see more progress. We’ll give it another week. If there is no improvement, I’ll consider what else can be done.”

“What is our other option?”

“If the need arises, I will tell you.” His gaze lingers. “Drink the draught.”

“If the need arises, I will,” I reply sweetly.

His gaze cools, but he says nothing. He finishes examining the other wing, although there is nothing wrong with it. When his hands finally slip away, the loss of their touch leaves my skin colder.

“Fine,” he says. “Another week, and I’ll return.”

An awkward silence stretches.