Page 62 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

His gaze drops to my hand, eyes narrowing.

Then he steps closer, towering over me. Around us, the others begin inching away. Only Susie remains calmly beside me.

“Careful,” he says softly. “Someone might decide that earns detention.”

I shrug. “I can handle a few lashes.”

“I’m sure you could.” His eyes hold mine. “It’s what comes after that tends to break people.” His gaze sweeps the other wolves. “Just ask your classmates. I’m sure they have plenty of stories between them.”

The words cool something inside me. Then he walks away, apparently unconcerned by the questions he has just left behind. I start to rise, but Susie catches my arm.

“Let him go.”

I stay seated, though not because I trust her. She’s the headmaster’s pet, and far too comfortable with the prince. Still, I might need an ally sooner or later.

“Wait,” Harvey says. “There was a fight? You and the prince?”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight,” I mutter.

Becky stares at me, eyes wide with excitement. “Wait. Don’t tell me the prince is your Master?” She’s practically squealing.

I tear my gaze away from the prince, who has paused above to speak to a table of vampire students.

“I’m not his anything,” I say firmly, seizing a piece of toast and tearing it apart with my fingers. “He’s just the enforcer who brought me to the Academy.”

I don’t think he wanted me telling anyone that, but then he shouldn’t have come over here practically announcing we spent last night together. Besides, it feels good to spill one of his secrets.

“Shame,” Becky says sympathetically. “I heard he’s never had a pet. Imagine what it would be like, belonging to the prince.”

The swoony sigh she gives makes me throw up a little in my mouth.

The others speculate who my Master might be, fishing for details about my trip to the Academy last night, but I make sure their questions lead nowhere. Giving away information for free has never been a habit of mine. I mumble something about the journey being boring, the prince being insufferable, and the scuffle being more accident than anything.

“You fell out of the carriage, and he caught you?” Becky swoons.

Through gritted teeth, I say, “I tripped. That’s all.”

Then I busy myself with my timetable, and the others seem to lose interest. I feel a small flare of hope as I fold the parchment and tuck it into my blazer pocket.

If wolves are being taught to fight here, the Resistance should know. The Academy is not only making pets. It is turning wolves themselves into weapons. And like a blade, weapons can be turned.

The bell tolls—a deep, church-like gong that rolls through the hall and settles somewhere in my chest. Chairs scrape above, plates are cleared away, and the room breaks apart into moving clusters of navy and red.

I glance upwards. Nathaniel is already gone. I didn’t see him leave.

The realisation needles me more than it should. I should know where he is, not because I care, but because he is an enemy worth tracking. Especially when that enemy snuck up on me during breakfast.

We’re at the top of the steps when we’re forced to stop for Victoria and her friends. They are already on their feet, lingering in a drift of perfume and laughter as they take their sweet time filing out ahead of us.

Apparently we have to let them go first—or perhaps the timid first-years ahead of us are simply in awe of the older students.

In any case, as I wait to leave the dining hall, I glance back at Victoria’s table with its abandoned plates and chairs pushed back. The roses are still there. Red, untouched, already starting to droop against the white tablecloth.

Forgotten, or abandoned?

I wonder if Nathaniel saw before he left. Whether it would wound his pride to know she left them there.

I hope it does, I think as an afterthought, and follow Becky out.