Page 185 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

Nathaniel lifts the collar—and hesitates.

Contempt flares hot and sudden inside me. Absurdly, I had thought he might have come because he wanted to see me. Instead, he has merely checked that his prisoner is not permanently damaged before sealing her magic away again.

“Shall I put my wings away?” I ask, unable to hide the resentment in my voice.

His gaze finally meets mine properly. “Yes. Do that.”

I fold them slowly, forcing the injured joint to move despite its protest. Cartilage melts into my skin, the wings disappearing into my back.

Nathaniel steps behind me and fastens the leather band around my throat. The enchantment drinks the magic from my veins in one smooth draw. My shoulders slump as it goes, and Nathaniel is through the door before it finishes.

I stare after him as it swings shut, jaw agape.

That was it? No goodbye? Not even a threat or some clever parting words? Frustration coils beneath my skin. He’s ignored me all week, then came to my room. Treats me as if I am beneath his notice, then touches my wing as though it is precious. My gaze falls upon the restorative draught. He thinks he can command me and I will obey.

I wrench my door open and hurl the vial after Nathaniel. It spins through the corridor and hits the floor, shattering against the stone and spraying green liquid across the floor. I’ve thrown it too low. It does not get anywhere near Nathaniel, who is already nearing the stairwell. But he heard.

I stand there breathing hard, hands balled into fists as I wait for him to come back and face me, but the corridor remains empty.

Chapter 28

Kira

The following days settle into a bleak sameness. Nathaniel ignores me, and I return the favour, moving between lessons and my room with little interest in either.

When I attempt to eat alone, Harvey pelts me with bread until Susie persuades me back to their circle. Even talk of a supervised excursion into the Capital fails to interest me. Once, the possibility of leaving the Academy would have consumed me. Now I merely chase lumps through my porridge.

Susie keeps glancing at me. I wish she would stop. I do not need anybody pretending to be my friend, and I certainly do not need the pity in her eyes. Her fate is hardly better than mine.

For several minutes, she joins the others in conversation. Eventually, she sets down her spoon and shifts into the empty space beside me.

“You cannot spend the rest of the year like this.”

I look at her. “Eating porridge?”

“Barely speaking to anybody. Going from lessons to your room and back again.”

“I’m not. I violated curfew and fell down the stairs, remember? I’ve had enough happen to me.”

Her ears lower. She is the only person in this circle who knows I tried to escape, although I doubt she knows the details of what happened after. Like how Nathaniel stroked my wing beneath the rain, how soft his voice can be, or how it felt to have him tend to my wounds himself.

Lately, I have begun to wonder whether that version of Nathaniel was real at all. The prince who ignores me now is easier to believe.

“I know it’s been tough for you,” Susie says. “But I hate seeing you so miserable. You weren’t when you first arrived.”

Yes, well. I still had hope then. Is that what she wants to hear? There’s no point lying, though.

“This place is depressing,” I say.

“It doesn’t have to be. Not if you make the most of what you have.”

I put down my spoon. “What do you suggest?”

“Join a pack,” she answers.

I stare at her. Across the circle, Harvey falls silent. Clara develops a sudden fascination with spreading jam across her roll, while Becky looks between Susie and me.

“I already spend every meal with you all,” I say.