Page 92 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

“Well, never mind, never mind,” Zott says at last, patting my hand as though consoling me. “We shall fit you in where we can, Kira. There is always theory, and I can tell at a glance that you are a bright wolf. I am sure you will apply yourself and study hard to catch up, hmm?”

He gives my hand one last pat before finally dropping it.

I let out a slow breath and wipe my palm on my skirt as discreetly as I can.

“Now, do not worry, Kira. I’m sure you have heard something of my ‘scary reputation’”—he laughs—“but I pride myself on being strict but fair. If there is ever any help you need, I am always happy to give any student of mine a helping hand. My door is always open to you.” His smile deepens. “Even after hours.”

My stomach shrivels.

Professor Marmala had said almost the same thing yesterday, but there had been nothing insinuating beneath her words.

He hums thoughtfully, casting his gaze over the school desks. “For today, why don’t you kneel by…let us see. Any volunteers?”

“I’ll take her, sir,” Felix says, raising one hand.

Zott gives a booming laugh. “I am sure you would, Felix. I am sure you would. But you already have two lovely wolves at your feet. We mustn’t be greedy.”

“Yes, sir, but one of them is collared.” Felix nods down at the woman nearest him—a wolf called Eliza I’ve never spoken to—with faint disdain.

She is tall for a wolf, slender and striking, with fair hair and an effortless grace I have begun to associate with vampires. Her amber eyes give her away, but everything else about her seems polished.

The other wolf is Jane. Beside Eliza’s polished beauty, her button nose and mousy waves seem almost plain. She keeps her eyes lowered.

“And Kira is already collared too,” Felix continues, “so I doubt anyone else wants her.”

A glance around the room confirms that he is right. None of the other vampires looks particularly eager now that they’ve remembered the leather around my throat.

“Oh, so she is. So she is.” Zott gestures towards Felix’s desk. “Very well, Kira. Off you go.”

Felix’s caramel-coloured brows lift as I approach. The corner of his mouth curves, but there is no warmth in it. No doubt he remembers the door I slammed in his face.

He gives me the smallest nod before turning his attention back to the front, evidently more interested in what Zott has planned for the lesson than in me.

Jane continues to avoid my gaze. “Hi,” she murmurs, her mousy hair framing a pale face with cheeks drained of their usual rosiness. Her shoulders are drawn tight despite the careful straightness of her back, and her hands are clasped so firmly in her lap that her knuckles have gone white.

Then I notice Felix’s hand resting at the back of her neck.

His fingers move idly through her hair, winding a limp strand around one finger before letting it fall.

Something in me goes rigid.

“Take your hands off her,” I growl in a low voice.

Felix’s eyes snap to mine.

At the front of the room, Zott is still deep in conversation with several vampire students, his booming voice carrying over the strained chatter around us. No one beyond the nearest desks appears to have heard except Victoria, seated at the desk beside him.

She leans across, her almond-shaped eyes glinting with amusement.

“Oh, Felix,” she muses, her gaze lingering on Jane before meeting mine. “Don’t worry, Kira. Felix never does more than Professor Zott requires. He prides himself on the bare minimum.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Felix says, his fingers continuing their slow path through Jane’s hair.

“Take your hand off her,” I say, loud enough that the students nearest turn to stare.

“It’s fine,” Jane whispers quickly. “Kira, truly—”

Felix’s hand has stilled at the nape of her neck, though he does not remove it.