Page 212 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

And oh, how gladly I gave it to her.

Even now, the memory sends something warm and helpless through my chest. Kira beneath me, wanting me closer. Wanting more. For those few impossible moments, I had everything I had never permitted myself to want.

What mortifies me is that I cannot remember at what point her moans fell silent. At what point she ceased moving beneath me. She lost consciousness—and I failed to notice.

It had been too long since I had fed adequately. Too long since I had bedded a woman. And never before have I desired one so violently that my own body seemed incapable of containing it.

None of those reasons absolve me.

My eyes were red, a sign that I had surrendered entirely to bloodlust.

Shame fills me as I look again at the marks upon her throat.

In my fantasies, the sight of my bite on her had filled me with satisfaction and pride. Now, it only disgusts me.

I sit back and drag my free hand through my hair. My thoughts are sluggish from blood loss, my limbs unsteady whenever I so much as think of standing.

Perhaps I gave her too much.

Kira makes a soft sound as she stirs.

I am on my feet in an instant, squeezing her hand. “Kira?”

Her head nestles against the pillow. Her lips part upon a soft breath, then she settles once more.

I lower myself back into the chair, my heart still racing. For one hopeful instant, I thought she was waking. The disappointment is a sobering reminder of why I brought her here in the first place.

I claimed her before the Poplarins.

Selfishly. Passionately. Recklessly.

At the time, I was not thinking of my father. Or Victoria. Or what either of them might do when they found out. I was half-mad with jealousy and relief at having reached her before another man could take her, and once I tasted her blood, what little sense remained deserted me entirely.

Then she went limp beneath me, and I carried her through the corridors wrapped in my coat, her blood covering us both.

By breakfast, the entire Academy will know the rumours were true.

Kira is mine.

Victoria will find out, and my father will learn of it soon after.

Which means she is in danger.

My father watches everyone connected to me. He always has.

A servant who earns too much of my favour. A courtier with whom I speak too frequently. Anyone whose company I appear to enjoy becomes someone he studies—another throat upon which he may eventually place a blade, merely to see what spills first: their blood, or their secrets.

My secrets. And these days, they are far too dangerous to take that risk. Nor am I so hardened that I can watch innocent people suffer merely because they had the misfortune of associating with me.

It is why I have not allowed anyone close in years.

Arken is the sole exception. As headmaster, he was already beneath my father’s scrutiny. My friendship painted no new target upon him.

Kira is different; unknown to my father and free of his attention. That is why I did not want her near me. I knew I mustn’t let her close. And now?

For one desperate moment, I consider concealing her entirely. I could lie. Say the blood loss killed her. A regrettable accident, but one that would surprise no one. An undisciplined wolf who pushed her prince too far and paid the inevitable price.

Even my father would believe it.