Page 91 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

The classroom occupies the whole top of the tower, a wide circular chamber with walls painted black and narrow windows set high above us.

Glass cabinets line the curved walls of the room. At first glance, their contents look like ornaments. It takes me a full, horrified second to understand what they actually contain.

Leather straps. Silver clamps. Smooth phallic objects made from coloured glass. Buckles, chains and harnesses arranged with the care of museum pieces.

They are not decorative.

Along one wall stands a vertical stone slab fitted with cuffs at the height of wrists, ankles and throat. The chains rattle threateningly as we pass, and Becky catches my sleeve and steers me away.

“Don’t get too close. They grab.”

Rows of desks occupy the left side of the room, already filled with vampire students. To the right stands a freestanding blackboard, the teacher’s desk partially hidden behind it. The centre of the room is empty except for rows of long, padded black mats laid across the flagstone.

I stare at the mats. I have a bad feeling about them.

Several vampires turn in their seats as we enter. It’s the first time I’ve seen them take an interest in us. Their sharp eyes move over us with the anticipation of diners watching the next course arrive. A few low comments pass between them, followed by a snicker quickly smothered.

I don’t like the mood in the room. Nor the fact that there are no desks for the wolves. That, I realise, is by design.

One by one, wolf shifters take their places kneeling at a vampire’s feet. Some vampires even have two wolves.

I hesitate near the doorway, unsure whether I’m meant to choose somewhere to kneel or wait to be assigned.

There is no teacher in sight.

Across the room, Victoria glances my way and murmurs something into Felix’s ear. He smiles. She hums softly in amusement—not quite mocking, but close enough to make every instinct in me urge me back towards the door. Then a chair groans behind the blackboard.

A large hand with pudgy fingers curls around its edge, followed by a cuff of pink silk. Professor Zott emerges slowly from behind it. He is the first fat vampire I have ever seen. And he is enormous. Not merely wide, with a lime-green waistcoat struggling to contain him, but tall enough that his height is imposing. His cheeks are red, his grey silk trousers immaculate, and his bow tie is patterned with pink flowers and green leaves, along with a matching handkerchief in his breast pocket.

A thin moustache has been waxed into two vicious points that curve up at the ends. His thinning hair is oiled flat and parted with surgical precision.

His dark, beady eyes settle upon me.

“Ah!” The word bursts from him with such delight that I glance behind myself. He waddles across the room, beaming, and takes my hand in his soft, damp one. “Our new student. Miss Kira Marsh, yes? Such beauty. A pleasure, my dear. A pleasure.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply.

His gaze drops to my throat, his smile freezing. “My. And what a pretty collar.”

He reaches up to touch it, his thumb running across the leather near the buckle. Every muscle in me locks up.

“Someone has already set his sights on you, I see.” His smile grows conspiratorial. “Pity. That means you will miss most of the practical assessments.”

Pity?

“Unless your Master can attend.” He lifts his eyes to mine. “Is he a student here?”

My gaze flicks towards the classroom door before I can stop it. Nathaniel may not be my Master, but he is the one who placed this collar around my throat, and I can’t help but think of him as I shake my head.

“Ah. An older gentleman, then. One of our graduates, no doubt. Someone with expensive taste…”

Expensive. He is still stroking the collar, his fingers brushing my throat more than necessary, his breath hot on my cheek as he leans close to inspect it.

“Yes. I do believe there were only a handful of these made. Two dozen or so, at most. Henrikk’s own enforcers use them, I believe.” He gives me a coy sort of look. “Your Master does not want you shifting. A shame, in my opinion. Wolves have such wonderfully long tongues. Very useful for lapping water from a bowl, of course.”

The way he tacks on the last part makes me fairly certain that wasn’t what he meant.

I hate Nathaniel for the damned collar, but right now, I’m almost grateful it gives me an excuse not to shift.