Page 159 of Coveted

Not to save me, but maybe the next person.

Sinking my fingernails into his forearms, I scratch him deep. I want his DNA under my nails for the police to find.

Worthington snickers like he understands exactly what I’m doing. “Silly girl. Your suicide will be an open-and-shut case. No one will bother to⁠—”

His voice cuts off. The pressure on my chest disappears so suddenly that I wonder if my ribcage gave way and I’ve died.

But with the pressure gone, I’m able to suck in a raspy, painful breath.

I’m definitely still alive, and two dark figures float above me.

I squint, trying to focus.

“Lucan,” I croak.

He came. He found me.

Is he real, not a wishful hallucination I’m having as I die?

“Sadie.” His voice has a desperate edge, like he’s worried he’s too late and I’m already gone. “I’m here.”

He’s real.

Lucan’s features transform into merciless rage as he holds Worthington higher in the air.

Backing up, I slump against the wall. I try to stand but my knees give way, so I settle for trying to breathe.

Lucan slams Worthington into the balcony railing, making blood spew from his temple.

Wind whips overhead, whistling and hissing like it’s alive. The air teems with a potent energy just beyond my visual awareness.

I feel it though.

A tremor travels up my spine. If the invisible veil between life and death exists, it’s preparing to open.

Someone’s about to go through.

With tendons straining in his neck, Lucan picks up Worthington by his jacket.

For a moment, I think Lucan will say something to him, the way he holds the professor while emanating such fury.

But then, with one swift, irresistible movement, he pitches Worthington off the balcony.

Lucan doesn’t see him land on the cobblestones amid partying students and the statue of Benedict Darkbloom, because he’s looking at me as if we’re the only two people in the world.

And we are.

It’s just him and me together in the dark, being each other’s light, the way it’s supposed to be.

Then the ground tips harder. Time speeds up and I’m encircled in his strong arms and wintry, comforting scent.

My chest and battered limbs don’t hurt anymore, and I can’t stay awake.

The last thing I hear is Lucan repeating my name, over and over again, like a prayer.

CHAPTER 42

Lucan