Page 144 of Coveted

The gothic mansion rises in the fog like a creature waiting to be fed.

Gravel crunches under my boots as I arrive at the Halloween party with Clara and Juliette.

“Tonight will be so fun.” Clara’s siren costume and elaborate makeup glimmer with teal and purple. “No better way to get your mind off Lucan.”

Black SUVs crawl past us in the driveway to deliver guests at the door.

“Maybe you’ll even meet another guy,” says Juliette.

Her ghost makeup looks eerie, a flowing pale dress trailing her like a river of moonlight.

“Forget guys,” I say. “I want to forget everything tonight. Exams were brutal.”

Clara boops my nose. “Wish granted.”

“Do sirens grant wishes?” I ask with a giggle.

She shrugs happily. “This one does.”

“I’m so done with college right now too,” says Juliette, huffing a cloud of steam. “I had an appointment with Chuck Fairchild this afternoon for advice on my classes. I waited at his office for an hour! He never showed.”

“Some student advisor,” says Clara. “Maybe he wanted to start trick-or-treating early.”

The mansion’s stone steps are slick with damp leaves as we climb them. Carved pumpkins leer at us from balconies, candles flickering in their grinning mouths.

A senior dressed as a skeleton checks our names off a list at the door, stamping our wrists with ink skulls. Her eyes travel over my corseted black-and-ivory dress, teardrop makeup, and dark wings.

“Oooh, Angel of Death?” she asks.

“Fallen Angel,” I reply.

“That’s cute too!”

Inside the house is dark, loud, and smells of woodsmoke and cinnamon. My friends greet people they know, introducing me over the thumping music.

I can tell immediately that Lucan’s not here. When he’s nearby, something in me instinctively responds.

I try to ignore my disappointment and concentrate on having fun. A party would be a terrible place to work out our problems anyway. I’ll settle for drinking in the dark like everyone else.

Laughter echoes from upstairs. A girl wearing a Marie Antoinette costume plays a grand piano, her powdered wig crooked. Guests pour liquor from crystal decanters into red solo cups, and a guy dressed as Robin Hood passes me a drink.

The bourbon makes me wince and my eyes water, yet I take a second gulp. Alcohol hits my bloodstream quickly, encircling me in a warm glow.

Whenever a tall male figure walks through the door, I pause, narrowing my eyes.

It’s never him though, and I realize the alcohol isn’t enough. Lucan’s always on my mind and it sucks.

My friends dance under a chandelier of bones. I’m not in the mood to join them, and my wings would be a nuisance on the dance floor anyway. So I drift through the seemingly endless rooms alone, each more staggeringly luxurious than the last.

Juliette said the mansion once belonged to Benedict Darkbloom. He lived here while establishing the college, and died here too.

At the top of a creaky staircase, I lean on a balcony overlooking the main chaos to watch.

Everyone’s letting loose. Animalistic howling replaces the laughter, and costumed students hook up on velvet lounges in the open.

None of it erases him from my mind. I could drink myself into a stupor and I swear I’d only see Lucan’s intense blue gaze when I closed my eyes.

Have I ruined things between us with my doubts? Did I give up a rare, meaningful connection because I was scared? Scared of how he made me feel, scared of what he wanted to give me, and scared that I didn’t deserve good things.