Page 100 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

“Because you embarrassed him.”

The words strike harder than an accusation shouted across the room.

“I was trying to help.”

“I know. But Kira…” She draws a shaky breath before giving me a helpless look. “Please don’t.”

She wipes quickly at her cheeks, but more tears replace the first. “It’s my fault for not wanting it. For not seeming…eager. I know that. I…don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Jane, no. There’s nothing wrong with you. That’s not—”

A cry of pleasure steals our focus.

Becky lies beneath a vampire on one of the mats, her pigtails spread around her head as he moves between her thighs. She clutches his shoulders, and she lifts her hips to meet every thrust.

“That’s it,” he groans. “Good girl.”

Becky gives a breathless little laugh and arches into him again, flushed and bright-eyed. She looks as though she is enjoying herself, though I can no longer tell how much of anything in this room is genuine and how much is performance.

“Excellent, Becky, excellent,” Zott remarks idly as he passes them on his way back to his desk.

Jane watches her for a moment.

“Becky is doing well, isn’t she?” She sniffs, wiping her face with her blazer’s sleeve. “I think, with a little practice, I could do that, too. Enjoy it, you know?”

I make the smallest sound of acknowledgement, too lost for words as I help her to her feet. I have never been afraid to speak my mind. But right now, I have no fucking clue what I could possibly say. Perhaps anything I say will only make things worse for the wolves here. For my—

No.

I cannot think of them as friends. And from the way Jane rushes out of the classroom the moment the class finally ends, pulling Becky with her, I suspect she does not think of me as one either.

I descend the spiral stairs feeling dazed and hollowed out, my legs unsteady beneath me, a wretched heaviness clinging to my skin. The air beyond Zott’s classroom feels startlingly fresh after the heat, sweat, and stale scent trapped inside.

It is not enough to leave the North Tower.

I need a way out.

At dinner, I let myself watch the hall properly. The other tiers. The vampires. The staff table. My eyes are wide open now, and time and time again, my attention returns to Victoria’s table directly above us.

To him.

Prince Nathaniel sits beside her as though he has been carved there, beautiful and bored and untouchable, one elegant hand resting beside his goblet. There are roses at Victoria’s place again. More than there were this morning. Two dozen at least, their red heads spilling over one another in a vulgar display of devotion.

Victoria barely glances at the roses, and Nathaniel barely glances at me. When he does, I do not pretend to ignore him. I watch freely, sipping from the glass of wine I stole from a vampire student’s table on the way in. Susie’s pack was amazed. Harvey had clinked his glass to mine and demanded to know how I managed it. The truth is, I simply picked up the bottle with an airy, “I must take this away,” and walked off with it.

No one stopped me. No one expects a wolf to dare.

I’m not a frightened girl watching a monster anymore.

When Nathaniel rises to leave, I rise too.

I wait only a few seconds before slipping out of the dining hall after him, through the double doors and into the antechamber. He does not look back as he passes the red doors and continues down a passageway and out of sight.

I pull off my shoes and carry them in one hand. In my socks, my steps make almost no sound against the stone as I hurry after him.

Last night taught me the cost of lunging without a plan. If I am going to threaten him, I need to know when he is alone.

Up ahead, he turns right, his black coat vanishing around the corner in a flicker of torchlight. I hurry after him. But when I round the corner, the corridor is empty, stretching straight ahead, red-lit and silent, the doors on either side shut fast.