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I drove my elbow back but hit empty air. On instinct, I bolted up. I hadn’t extracted Deathsong, my dagger, from the hill. I was planning to do it at some point. With no weapon at my disposal, I grabbed the blanket, pressed it against my chest, and found myself peeking up at the sneering face of the vampire prince.

“Why me?” I asked, lifting a hand to rub the sleep away from my puffy eyes. “What are you doing here?” I demanded before adding “sir” in a rush.

He peeled his lips back in a snarl, not pleased at me questioning him. I scrambled back from him at the sight of his fangs, my back hitting the wall.

“Cool—calm down.” I’d almost said “cool your tits,” which would get him to backhand me.

He pointed two fingers at his eyes, which were narrowed to slits. “This is my calm version.”

“I humbly think you’re in the wrong place, sir. This is my room.”

“No longer,” he said confidently. “You’re being relocated to my floor, so I’ll always have immediate access to you.”

My brows creased. “Is that necessary?”

“Yes,” he snapped. “You have no sense, little Bob. I won’t take the risk of your untimely demise due to your idiocy.”

Fuck, he really liked my blood.

“But sir, you live on the sixth floor,” I offered, licking my parched lips. “I’m afraid of heights.”

“No more excuses!” he said. “C’mon, let’s get moving. Pack your stuff!”

“I have no stuff,” I said.

“Good. Then let’s go.”

I immediately regretted speaking too quickly.

“Sir, I’m sorry that I misspoke,” I said. “I do have some stuff to pack. Maybe you can wait outside and—”

“Nonsense. Leave it behind. Drusilla can pick it up for you.”

I bit my lip. “But I need to clean myself up first. You said you didn’t like your squire smelling and bringing shame to you.”

“I don’t give a fuck about being shamed. And who dares to shame me?”

“But sir—”

He gave me a onceover, appreciation glinting in his eyes. Then he leaned in to sniff my scent. I ducked, but there wasn’t enough space, and he ruffled my curls. I swatted his hand away. He only chuckled.

“You’ve cleaned up nicely, and you smell delicious,” he said. “Water, food, and rest can do wonders. I’ve provided all three for you. Now it’s time for me to have my breakfast.”

Alarm shot up my spine.

“Let me go to the kitchen to fetch you something to eat right away, sir!”

“You’re my breakfast.”

“But you had my blood three times yesterday! Our deal is twice a week!”

“Yesterday was but a sampling—an appetizer. Today will be counted as a formal meal.” He stepped toward the door without looking back at me. “No more stalling or I’ll backhand you and inflict pain on you. You don’t want that, do you?’

“No, sir,” I said, stuffing my feet into a pair of new shoes and following him out.

My uniform was wrinkled, but if the prince didn’t mind shame, then why should I?

“Where are we going, sir?” I asked uneasily.