Page 158 of Coveted

Death wasn’t hot on my heels, that’s why. The realization is bittersweet on my tongue. I might die with the most important words left unspoken.

The door comes into view, but the professor’s gaining on me. There’s no way I’ll get through in time to bar it off behind me.

Can I kick him down the stairs? Could I be so lucky?

My senses become hyper-sharp. Primal terror wipes my thoughts from my head as I reach for the handle.

I throw the door open, a frigid gust of wind stinging my eyes. Before I can step onto the rooftop, Worthington wrenches me by my wings, taking my feet from under me.

Falling to my knees on the top step, I gasp in pain.

With frenzied grunts, he tugs at my wings, showering us with feathers. The harness is fixed to my shoulders like backpack straps and I twist out of them to release myself.

He falls back, tossing aside the wings.

It gives me just enough time to snake my hand through the doorway to grasp a stone the size of a grapefruit.

As his hands fist my dress and yank me toward him, I spin my torso and slam the stone into his nose with all the strength I can muster.

Blood slides from his nostrils and I hear bones crack.

“Fuck!” he screams, loosening his grip on my dress to grope at his nose. “Fucking bitch!”

Panting, I crawl over the threshold of the door, wriggling through far enough to kick it closed.

I push stones in front of the door, but within moments, he throws his weight against it from the other side.

With me in the way, the door crashes into my head, making the roof tilt. Blood spills warm and fast down the side of my face.

Don’t pass out, I command myself. And don’t you dare give up.

We don’t let cowards win.

Worthington creates a gap in the doorway nearly big enough for him to fit through. My hands search for stones to defend myself with. I stagger, not quite able to stand.

He slams his body against the door again, catching my leg and twisting my knee.

This time, he’s through the gap and I can’t stop him. Worthington looms above me, fists balled at his sides and fireworks exploding at his back.

He grimaces, teeth laced with red. “A minute ago, I was going to break your neck. But now I think I’ll snap each one of your fingers first and beat you bloody. You’ve earned it.”

I swing the stone in my hand, but he kicks my wrist to make me drop it.

The fireworks peter out, leaving white smoke to mingle with the rolling mist. I try to scream, but it comes out as a hoarse, strangled cry, snatched away by the wind.

I’m already feeling for another stone, my vision doubling, when he crouches by me.

“Now, now, Miss Sadie,” he says in a silky voice that makes my skin crawl. “We’ll have no more of that.”

Worthington pushes me onto my back. His knee digs into my sternum, pinning me down and forcing the air from my aching lungs.

His fingertips brush my cheek, twirling loose strands of my hair. It’s almost an affectionate gesture, but then he yanks the hair from my scalp with a sting.

I hate him so much, and I want to keep fighting, but my body refuses to cooperate. I feel like I’m being dragged deep underwater.

He strokes his blood-streaked chin like he’s leisurely thinking of a grand idea. “You know what? You won’t be a murder victim. You’re going to kill yourself.” His knee presses harder. “Yes, this is perfect. Heartbroken and buckling under academic pressure, you throw yourself from a tower like the tragedy you are. You die bleeding and alone on the cold cobblestones below. I carry on as before.”

My vision triples, then blurs. The metallic scent of my own blood fills my nostrils, which gives me one last scrap of an idea.