Page 151 of Coveted

I wade through the chaos toward the front doors, constantly jostled by drunk people. The statue of Benedict Darkbloom looms overhead, jack-o’-lanterns glowing on the plinth. Fake spiderwebs hang from his baton and outstretched hand.

“Hey, Sadie,” says a voice from behind, deep and male.

I turn, fighting the impulse to stumble back from Damon and his eerily painted face.

Adelle waits in the SUV, her wrist casually draped on the steering wheel, watching us through the crowd.

“Hey, Damon,” I reply.

Did I leave something in the car?

I check both pockets of my dress, but I have everything I left my dorm with. My wings are fixed firmly to my shoulders.

“There’s just something you should know,” says Damon. “In case you don’t realize.”

An icy wind blows, carrying crackly leaves and tendrils of smoke.

“Go ahead,” I say.

A guy dressed as a medieval monk backs into me. He guzzles beer through a funnel held by a girl wearing a pirate costume and red-bottomed heels.

“Sorry!” she shouts over the music, dragging the monk away by his elbow.

Mist swirls and darts around the building like restless spirits.

I’m cold and I just want to go inside.

I refocus on Damon. “What was it?”

He blows out a breath. “Lucan is miserable as fuck without you. No one’s seen him like this before. He’s crazy about you, Sadie. I hope you know that.”

“This is why you came after me?” I ask, surprised and oddly touched.

I never would’ve taken Damon to be so thoughtful.

His painted features don’t soften exactly, but his voice is tinged with rawness.

“Life is short,” he says. “Too fucking short. Ask Hannah. Ask Parker. Whatever you’re sweating over, do yourself a favor and don’t take too long with it, okay?”

Without waiting for an answer, he returns to the car and climbs in.

“Okay,” I whisper, with no one to hear.

His words wash over me, their honest simplicity piercing the haze of my confusion.

It’s true. So many people get less time than they imagined.

Why do I think I’ll be any different? Why have I been acting as though people like Lucan come along every day? They don’t.

Suddenly, I realize I don’t need time and space anymore. I need him.

When I wake up tomorrow, I’ll go to his apartment. We’ll talk. I’ll be honest with him and myself. We definitely have some things to figure out, but I believe we can.

Lucan feels so, so deeply. It scared me at first, and now it’s all I want.

I start the walk to my dorm, entering through the main hall, which echoes with screams of excitement, fear, or some combination of both. The tiles are slippery, and I lift the hem of my dress to avoid the questionable slush.

In the distance, I hear a cackle, followed by unhinged shouts and the stomping of boots.