Page 207 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

At my mouth, no doubt, still wet with her blood.

They know what I have done.

They press themselves against the walls as I approach, bodies shrinking from my path. Fury rises in me so sharply that my vision darkens.

These alphas possess the shape of wolves and none of their substance.

“Chelsea.”

She flinches as though struck.

I do not slow as I speak. “Run ahead. Find Arken.”

Her fearful gaze darts to Kira. “Is she—”

“Tell him I am coming.” The command cracks through the passage.

Chelsea morphs and is gone in a blur of fur. I continue past the others without looking back, each hurried stride carrying us closer to Arken’s office.

My blood could restore what she’s lost, but I cannot give it to her. Not while my father’s curse runs through it.

Arken will have something to counteract it.

He has to.

I cannot bear to lose her.

But the possibility is there, cold and undeniable, with every weakening beat beneath my fingers.

I know what blood loss looks like only too well.

As an adolescent, when my father’s hunger for violence was still at its worst, I watched him drain wolves until their hearts gave out. I stood beside him while servants carried their bodies away and he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“It is unbecoming to lose control,” he once told me. “If you intend to kill something, Nathaniel, then kill it. But never let appetite make the decision for you. That is the distinction between a king and a beast.”

I had despised him for it. And when he ordered me to drink, I obeyed. But I never lost control. Never drained a victim, even though it meant enduring my father’s contempt for that restraint.

Now Kira lies limp in my arms. It seems I am my father’s son after all.

A monster. The word keeps pace with every strike of my boots against the floor, as the castle stretches endlessly before me. Every corridor seems longer than it did an hour ago. Every staircase another obstacle between Kira and the one person who might know how to save her.

Monster.

I tighten my hold around her. “No,” I gasp.

I take the stairs three at a time.

At the landing, I break into a run, supporting her head against my arm as I race towards Arken’s office. He is already waiting outside, holding the door open and wearing a deep look of concern. Chelsea stands in human form against the opposite wall, watching us approach.

“Leave,” I snap at her, and she does. I barge into his quarters. Arken shuts the door behind us, and I carry Kira straight through to the large bed, lowering her onto the smooth sheets. The moment her weight leaves my arms, cold emptiness rushes through them.

I kneel beside her, raking my hair with my fingers.

“How did this happen?” Arken demands.

I shake my head. “I forgot myself.”

I lift my gaze to his, and Arken regards me with a calm severity.