Page 39 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

“I’m trying to understand what the hell you want from me.”

“Nothing, preferably.” I gesture towards the Academy. “I’m merely delivering you. Or did you think you were good enough for royalty?” I smirk and lean close to her ear. “By the time you graduate, you might very well be. So in the meantime…try not to bite anyone else important.”

She bristles, her mouth agape. Whatever insult she was building has nowhere to go now, and she knows it.

“Move,” she mutters, and elbows past.

I follow her up the steps to the double doors. They are vast things, blackened iron set into stone, the handles wrought into the shape of coiled serpents. She reaches for one, fingers closing around the metal, and pulls.

It doesn’t budge. Through clenched teeth, she gives a low hiss worthy of any vampire. She braces a foot against the frame and heaves.

Nothing.

I let her struggle a moment longer than is strictly kind before I step up beside her.

“You might try saying please.”

She rounds on me. “Stop being so—I don’t need your help. I can open a bloody door.”

“I have the utmost faith in you.”

She huffs, still pulling on the handle hard, her breath coming short.

The doors do not budge.

“They’re enchanted,” I supply.

She freezes. “They are?”

“Yes.”

She gives one last tug, as if reluctant to admit defeat, then sighs. “Open…?”

“Please,” I remind her.

She shoots me a dirty look, still clinging to the handle. “Please.”

The doors groan and swing inward. The handle slips from her fingers, and the force of her own pull sends her stumbling back a step—straight into me. One hand fists in my coat sleeve as she catches herself, her back pressed to my chest.

I remain perfectly still, merely lowering my gaze to her.

She shoves away from me. “You could’ve mentioned they were enchanted.”

“I thought you could sense magic,” I say, all innocence.

Something flashes in her eyes, gone almost as quickly as it appears.

“You really have no idea how anything works, do you?” she grumbles.

I frown but say nothing as we step inside the foyer.

Marble floors stretch out beneath us, a grand staircase rising into shadow. Archways and heavy doors line the walls, opening into the deeper reaches of the castle. An enormous fireplace sits cold and unlit, its carved mantel looming over a cluster of armchairs. Above, enchanted chandeliers hang from the vaulted ceiling, their light dimmed to a low red glow at this hour. Like the doors, the light sources are sustained by remnants of older magic—though my father would claim credit for both.

Then I hear it. A hushed sound, soft and rhythmic, and beneath it, a muffled feminine whimper.

I stop, my hand almost settling on Kira’s shoulder—almost, but she freezes too, her attention snapping towards the base of the staircase.

I advance silently, Kira a few paces behind.