Page 90 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

I have no idea what to say to that.

I cannot decide which part unsettles me more: that Arken feeds from her, or that Susie cared if he was hungry.

As the others chat and Clara refolds her napkin into a flower, my attention drifts towards two first-years sitting alone nearby.

Both have fresh bite marks at their throats. Marks that definitely were not there this morning when I saw them in Etiquette.

“Easy prey,” Harvey says when I quietly ask him about it. His usual humour has gone flat. “I kept telling them to join our pack. But would they listen? They’re holding out for the Poplarin pack, apparently, hoping for an invitation.” He snorts, as if it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“What happened?” I ask.

Harvey grimaces. “They got bit.”

“Obviously,” I mutter.

“They were attacked during recess,” Clara supplies with wide eyes.

I stare at her. During recess? While I was hiding in a bathroom cubicle worrying about a bloody essay, this was happening somewhere in the castle?

“How?” I ask.

Harvey shrugs. “They went into an empty classroom to finish some schoolwork. A group of third-year vampires followed them in.”

“Can’t they report them?”

“They can.” He tears at a dinner roll. “Won’t do much good. Feeding isn’t against school rules.”

I frown. Nathaniel had warned me, but all the bells and homework must have fooled me into thinking this place had rules.

“Then what’s the point of the locks on our doors?” I ask. “If vampires can just corner us somewhere else and feed anyway?”

Harvey’s expression darkens. “Well, look. It doesn’t happen too often, given some wolves are willing. But some vampires prefer to hunt those that aren’t.” He nods towards the first-years. “And those two… I heard the vampires took more than blood, if you know what I mean.”

My gaze returns to the girls. One is speaking quietly while the other stares down at her untouched food.

The Academy suddenly seems full of places where a vampire might wait. Empty classrooms. Dark stairwells. Narrow passages between towers.

I will have to be more vigilant.

“Speaking of safety, have you decided whether you’re joining our pack?” Harvey asks me.

“Not yet,” I admit.

“No rush.” His grin returns, though it looks forced around the edges. “You’ve got nothing to worry about with that collar. No one’s stupid enough to touch a wolf who’s already spoken for.”

Spoken for.

The words make the leather feel tighter. And yet, as I open my mouth to correct him—to insist that I do not belong to anyone—I stop. Harvey has just given me one very good reason to let them think otherwise.

“Besides,” Harvey continues, “I’m mostly recruiting for the book club. The more the merrier. You can come check it out, if you like. We’re meeting in the library next week.” He winks.

Oh goody.

Attending a book club is the furthest thing from my mind as I follow the other first-years through the castle for the final double period of the day.

Pet Obedience.

The mood changes as we climb the North Tower. Dread hangs over us, the conversation thinning the higher we climb the spiral staircase until all I hear is the scrape of shoes against stone and the faint rustle of pleated skirts.