Page 151 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

Crossing the foyer, I wrench open the heavy iron door leading to the dormitories and charge down the stone steps so fast that the enchanted sconces struggle to wake as I pass, red flames flaring behind me only after I have plunged into the next stretch of darkness.

I reach the first underground landing at a run and swing into the corridor.

A figure steps into my path, and I collide with a soft, solid body and stagger backwards.

“Kira!” Susie catches my elbow before I fall. Her ears stand upright in alarm, her golden eyes wide.

“There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Oh…?” My heart is beating too hard. I straighten quickly, keeping my right hand buried beneath the opposite side of my blazer. The position must look odd, so I tuck my other hand beneath it too, folding my arms as though I am merely cold. “You were?”

“Jane came into my Literature class looking for Professor Marmala. She said you left History with Victoria and never came back. Professor Marmala asked if anyone knew where you might be, so I offered to look.” Susie’s frown deepens as she takes me in. “What on earth happened to you? Why are you covered in blood?”

I glance down to see blood smears down the front of my white blouse.

Shit.

I had been so busy hiding my hand that I failed to notice the red splatter across my clothes. A knot of discomfort pulls tight inside me. I stabbed him. Felt the blade go in. Seeing the evidence smeared across my clothes, however, makes it suddenly, unpleasantly real.

Susie’s gaze lifts to my face. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” My mind scrambles for an explanation, landing on the last time I had this much blood down my front, after the failed mission. Blood I had not earned.

“Nosebleed,” I blurt. “A bad one.”

Susie’s nostrils flare, scenting the air, and I can tell by her concerned expression that she doesn’t believe me.

And why would she? The lie is absurd. Nathaniel’s blood stains my blouse and sits damp between my hidden fingers, and his scent clings to me—along with evidence of everything else.

Heat floods my face. Is it too much to hope that blood is all Susie can smell? Or can she smell his arousal, too? Worse—can she smell mine?

“Kira,” Susie begins, “what happened with the prince?”

“We had a disagreement.”

She waits, giving me every opportunity to explain.

I have no intention of taking it.

“What did he do?” she asks at last.

“Not much.”

“Did he feed from you?”

I swallow but say nothing.

Her ears slowly flatten into her strawberry-blonde hair. It makes her look younger. Sadder.

“He shouldn’t have done that,” she says.

I shrug.

Her expression tightens. “Kira…if the prince has hurt you, we can go to the headmaster. To Arken. I’m sure he’ll help.”

For a fleeting moment, I consider it. But even if he wanted to help, what authority could a headmaster possibly have over the prince? No one can help me. Which means this conversation is riskier the longer it goes on.

“It’s fine,” I insist. “Really. I sought the prince out. It was…” I force out the only word likely to stop her. “Mutual.”