Page 14 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

“No more biting—or I’ll bite back,” I warn, and hold her gaze, waiting for her to break eye contact first.

She doesn’t. She simply glares back.

“This way,” I finally say, dragging her towards the wardrobe. Keeping a firm hold of her, I open the door.

Inside, where coats once hung, an oval shimmer of pale light ripples against the back—milky and clouded, like mist caught beneath glass.

“A portal,” I explain as she stares at it in wide-eyed disbelief.

Through the mist lies the bedroom. It’s dark save for the violet sconces burning along the walls, their enchanted flames casting an eerie glow around the room. The bed dominates the space—vast and carved, its heavy posts rising into shadow, the black sheets pulled smooth, satin gleaming faintly in the low light.

It would be easy to take her there.

Tempting.

But her lack of compliance demands a detour.

I turn to the witch. “Barbara.”

She sets her knitting aside with a helpless sigh before rising to her feet, her gaze very reluctantly lifting to mine.

I tower over her—she barely reaches my waist—and peer down. “You are to go ahead to the Academy and inform Arken he is to expect a new pupil.”

Her wrinkles etch deeper with a frown. “You want me to go alone?”

“Yes. I trust you are capable of this one tiny errand. Or are you entertaining thoughts of running?”

Something flashes in her eyes before she drops her gaze, expression forlorn. “Where would I go?”

“Nowhere I would not find you,” I say almost cheerfully, glancing around. “The cottage is compromised—you are to go to the Academy. Arken will deal with you. But first, change the portal to take me to the carriage.” I tug the wolf a fraction closer and smile at Barbara. “We’re taking a detour.”

“A detour? Why?” Barbara asks sharply, glancing at the wolf with concern.

I shrug. “Why not? Now—the carriage. Chop-chop. Then you may report to Arken’s office.”

Barbara is clearly unhappy with her orders. Then again, she has little reason to be happy. As far as cages go, at least her cottage had been cosy. With another dejected sigh, her hands lift, and her weathered fingers begin pulling at the air as though it were full of thread.

The portal’s image wavers, the bedroom disappearing as the milky surface shifts. A new image forms: a deserted country lane beneath a night sky, summer leaves shuffling in the wind.

The carriage awaits there, exactly as I left it a year ago, without so much as a speck of dust. Sleek, black, the side bearing the glinting crest of Volmasque Academy: a silver wolf’s head in profile, its fur majestic, its jaw strong. It seems a tribute to wolves—but only at first glance. Closer examination reveals a serpent coiled around the wolf’s throat, its head resting beneath the jaw like a jewelled clasp. Above it, a pale, elegant hand pressed possessively over the wolf’s muzzle.

The wolf has gone completely still in my hold, her gaze fixed on the crest as if her inevitable fate has only just dawned.

Then she gives a sharp shake of her head.

“Oh, yes,” I croon. “By royal decree, you are now enrolled at Volmasque Academy. And already collared—a rare distinction for a first-year.”

She blanches, her expression horrified.

I give her a mock-wounded look. “You should feel grateful for this opportunity to become a vampire’s pet. To serve one’s betters is a privilege. To do so in a manner that is pleasing…well, don’t worry, the Academy will teach you how.”

The threat of it hangs in the air.

For a heartbeat, she goes limp in my grasp. Then the real struggle begins.

She thrashes wildly, kicking the air, bucking against me with everything she has.

I tighten my hold and drag her forward.