Page 19 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

He gives a long-suffering sigh. “Your reluctance is noted. Now drink.”

I narrow my eyes. “You could be trying to poison me.” The words come out thick.

His tone goes flat. “Yes. I could be. But then our time together would be rather short-lived, wouldn’t it?”

He gives the flask a light shake, the liquid sloshing faintly.

I stare at it, dying to quench my thirst.

He watches me for a moment longer, then sighs lengthily and lifts the flask to his own mouth. He takes a slow, deliberate sip, his throat working as he swallows.

Then he offers it to me again.

“Drink,” he insists.

I take the flask cautiously and drink. The moment the liquid hits my mouth feels like bliss, wetting my tongue, teasing my throat.

“Good,” he says. “And don’t—”

He cuts off as I spit a stream straight into his face.

He doesn’t react except to briefly shut his eyes, water dripping down his pointed features. When he opens them again, they are narrowed and dangerous.

“Last chance,” he warns.

Drink it, a voice inside me screams. And this time, I do, because I’m no longer able to fight my thirst.

My mind is momentarily wiped blank. All I can think of is the flask. The water is cool and clean. A gift. I swallow too fast, gulping down mouthfuls, the relief almost painful as it settles in my stomach.

I expect him to take the flask away before I’m ready, but he doesn’t. Instead, he simply waits.

I toss the empty thing back in his lap, and he stows it in his coat pocket.

“Now,” he continues, dabbing at his face with the napkin, “I hope we can have a civilised conversation.”

After you abducted me? I scoff inwardly. I doubt it’s my conversational skills he’s interested in. Even so, I pause to consider. I have to be smart. Try to get information. Where am I? Who is he?

Most of all, I’m worried about Byron.

Is he still outside the forest clearing, waiting for me? Wondering why I haven’t left the cottage? He’ll never get through the ward, but he’s the most stubborn shifter I know. He’ll stay outside. Worried and fearing the worst.

My heart sinks.

If only I could reach him. I almost wish I had told the vampire about him—though I know it would only have endangered Byron and the others. The last thing we need is one of Henrikk’s enforcers hunting the Resistance down.

A cold clarity settles in. Byron can’t save me. No one can. I’m lost to them.

I should never have come tonight.

We were wrong. The Resistance was wrong. This cottage isn’t a sanctuary for an escaped witch. It’s a cage. But why? What good was she to the Vampire King there? There must be better and more convenient places to keep a prisoner. Wintermaw Keep’s infamous dungeons, for one.

The witch has gone to the Academy. The thought slides in, sharp and dangerous. I keep my gaze trained on my lap, refusing to look at the vampire in case he somehow reads my face. Will she stay there? Do the vampires consider the cottage compromised now?

It hardly makes a difference to me now. Every instinct is screaming at me to throw myself from the carriage and take my chances in the woods. But if the witch is at the Academy, perhaps I can still find her. Turn this disaster of a mission into a success.

No. The thought slams in. The Academy is worse than the dungeons. Indoctrination. Subjugation. I’d almost rather be going to the cells. There’s no other choice. I have to escape.

My hands have curled into fists. I relax them, resting them at my sides as I search for an easy topic.