Page 10 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

I surge up and tackle her as she hits the air, catching her around the middle and dragging her down with me. We crash onto the bed together, and I wrench her onto her side, her back pinned to my chest.

I grip her tightly as those vicious talons slice the pillows and send flurries of feathers into the air.

I wait for her to calm, to tire, but she thrashes in panic, and I quickly weigh my options.

Do I risk biting her?

No. I’ll be dead before the first swallow.

Back to the original plan.

I lean back slightly to reach into my coat—

Something bony and silk-smooth slams into my face.

Pain bursts across my lip, the taste of blood flooding my mouth.

Something dark drapes across my vision.

Wings.

They are wide and leathery, thin as night-spun silk and elegant as a bat’s. They snap wildly from her back where they had been folded tight.

“They’re magnificent,” I breathe.

She must think I’ve lost my senses, but seeing them this close, unfurled to their full span, they are beyond impressive.

Her answer is a snarl as the taloned edge of a wing clips my jaw again.

Furious at my own distraction, I wrench the enchanted collar from my coat and fling the loose loop of leather over her throat.

The magic ignites instantly.

The collar shrinks rapidly, biting tight around her neck.

Her entire body convulses as the transformation shatters. Scales recede, wings collapse into nothing, and claws shrink into fingers still slashing blindly through the air.

For one violent heartbeat she fights it.

Then the spell wins.

Her clothes settle back around her human form as the wolven strength drains from her limbs. Even then, she keeps twisting and flailing in my hold. She’s stronger than a human—but not by much.

I flip her onto her back, pinning her hard against the mattress, straddling her hips as I seize both wrists and drive them above her head before she can recover.

She thrashes once. Twice. Then realises she cannot move.

“What did you do to me?” she demands, despair filling her voice as she strains her body beneath mine—trying and failing to morph.

“It suppresses the magic that allows a wolf shifter to transform,” I pant, forcing her wrists higher against the mattress until my face is close to hers. “You cannot shift while you’re wearing it.”

Her eyes flash with fury.

“So I do hope it’s comfortable,” I add. “You will be wearing it for a very long time.”

“You bastard,” she growls, bucking once, twice, testing my grip. The motion sends a traitorous twitch low in my body. I’m too aware of her warmth beneath me. Strong, yet not without feminine softness. “Bastard!”

“Oh, I’m a pureblood, I assure you.”