Page 20 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

“How do you know my name?” I ask the vampire casually.

He tilts his head, his lips curling in a pleased smile. “Ah. So it is Karen?”

“Fuck off,” I breathe.

Another short laugh, his eyes gleaming. “How rude. You haven’t even asked me my name.”

“In the last ten seconds since you ungagged me?” I shoot back.

Impossible. It’s almost impossible to control my temper with him.

“Go on,” he says. “Guess.”

I don’t want to play his games, but I give him a slow once-over, making it clear I’m unimpressed by what I see. “You’re one of Henrikk’s enforcers.”

“Oh, better than that. I’m his son.”

My thoughts grind to a halt, and I stare, unable to hide my shock. “You’re…the Vampire Prince?”

Still seated, he gives a small mocking bow. “Prince Nathaniel, at your service.”

I gape. The king’s only heir. The resemblance to the portraits and statues of King Henrikk is striking, now that I look properly, though many of the noble vampires share his sharp features.

If he truly is the prince…

I swallow. They say Nathaniel is as terrible as his father, that he hunts illegal wolves and tortures them for information.

“You might try to look pleased,” he goes on. “Being known as the prince’s pet is a very coveted position. You will have certain advantages.”

“Advantages?”

“You will want for nothing. All expenditures will be taken care of.” A pause. Then, almost kindly, “If you are very good, I can arrange for someone to take you shopping in the city.”

“Shopping?” I repeat, my mind still lingering on torture.

“Yes. New clothes. Jewellery. Perfume. Trinkets. Whatever you require.”

He makes it sound like a privilege, as if silk and gold could make my loss of freedom appealing.

I glance down at my belted tunic, comfortable but worn. My daggers are gone. I have few other possessions worth keeping. I’ve spent my life trying not to get caught, never staying long enough anywhere to want more.

What would it be like to not have to live in hiding?

“Perhaps I might take you shopping myself,” he adds, searching my face. “It needn’t be so terrible, you know. You might grow to enjoy the life of a vampire’s pet.”

There’s no mockery in him now. He’s serious.

I draw in a slow breath, my voice barely a whisper. “Nathaniel?”

“Yes, Kira?”

I meet his gaze. “Why don’t you fuck off?”

He looks as if I’ve slapped him.

Then he gives a regretful sigh and leans forward, the gag suddenly back in his hands.

“Wait—no!” is all I manage before he’s on me, trapping me against the cushioned seat, forcing the gag in my mouth. The straps snake around and secure themselves of their own accord, pulling tight.