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I sit up and lean over her, close enough to see that she’s still asleep, and my heart breaks at the way her face is scrunched in pain. She’s been getting nightmares regularly, but I had hoped that killing the bastard who dared to hurt her would give her some relief.

“No. No, please. Don’t. I-I… No. Law, please,” she whimpers, sounding so lost and helpless, even in her sleep.

I reach over and gently place one hand on her cheek, whilst using the other to rock her shoulder. “Harper, sweetheart, can you hear me? It’s me, Lawson. You’re dreaming, sweetheart. Wake up for me.” I keep my voice soft and gentle, not wanting to startle her too much.

Her lashes flutter, but she doesn’t wake up, and her sobs continue, so I shake her a little more forcefully. “Harper. Wake up.”

She lets out a violent screech as I press against her shoulder, her eyelids flying open as she thrashes against me. Although her eyes are open, she still seems stuck in her nightmares, as she tries to push me off, not knowing it’s me.

I try to soothe her, shushing her whilst I hold her down as gently as I can, so she doesn’t hurt herself. I whisper reassuring words, letting her know where she is, and that she’s safe. When my voice registers, the haze over her beautiful blue eyes clears, and she finally realises where she is.

“Lawson.” Tears fill her eyes as she stares at me, her muscles still tense with fear she can’t seem to shake.

I swipe my thumb over her cheekbone as she leans into my touch, tears rolling down her face as she stares at me. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

As soon as the words leave my lips, her face crumples and sobs wrack her small, fragile body. I waste no time pulling her over to me, and as I roll onto my back, she curls up against me. Her tears flood my chest as she clutches onto me for dear life, and I wrap my arms around her as tight as I can.

I hold her until the last of her tears have fallen, whispering reassuring words as I remind her she’s safe, that the monster is gone and can never hurt her again. When she finally has control over her breathing again, she looks up at me with red, swollen eyes, the beautiful blue colour still shining bright.

“Thank you.” Her words are barely above a whisper, and she gives me the briefest smile, but it’s enough to cleave open my chest.

“You don’t ever have to thank me for protecting you. I’ll always look after you.” I make sure she can hear the sincerity in my voice as I press a kiss to her forehead.

This time, the smile she gives me is dazzling, and I know I’m a fucking goner. I don’t just want to protect this girl, to keep her safe from harm, I want to give her everything. I will kill anyone who even dares to look at her wrong, just to know she never has another nightmare again.

I’m not even going to pretend I didn’t spend the rest of the week—since Lawson made me come in the middle of class—thinking about what the hell I’m going to dress up as for Halloween.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been to Halloween parties before, so I’ve done the whole fancy dress thing several times, but the stakes seem higher now. Not only do I want to impress Lawson—his remark about fucking me harder, depending on my outfit, is on-repeat in my brain—but I also have to impress his rival Houses.

Naturally, Wren was my first point of call, but her suggestion was less than helpful. ‘Something slutty’ didn’t exactly narrow down my options, though it’s presumably what Lawson expects of me.

In the end, when I became really desperate, I barged into Bram’s bedroom and asked for his advice too. He gave me several suggestions that all fell within the realms of ‘something slutty’, but none of them seemed to fit me, and I was beginning to go insane.

I even contemplated letting Lawson pick for me, but I had a feeling I’d regret that. Besides, if he chooses the outfit, the element of surprise is gone, and I need that if I’m going to show him how sexy I can be.

After a lot of consideration, I realised that was exactly where I was going wrong. I’ve spent my whole life trying to fade into the background, to look as conservative as possible, and now, trying to be overtly sexy is making me uncomfortable. I’ve made a lot of progress while I’ve been with Lawson, but not as much as I thought.

I need to find a happy medium between who I was and who I want to be when I’m with him…and that’s how my idea began to take shape. Once I had the plan and ran with it, I was more than happy.

Lawson, on the other hand, was not pleased when I told him I was getting ready at Wren’s, and he could pick me up from there, or I could meet him at Crowhurst House. But I was adamant that I wanted it to be a surprise.

He tried to talk me into getting ready in my dorm, but I shot him down. Wren has all the makeup and hair accessories I need, and it doesn’t make sense for her to drag them all to my place.

After taking much longer to get ready than I would like, I stand in front of the mirror, trying to take in the person reflecting back at me—she looks just like me, but not.

The soft, cool fabric of the short white dress hugs my skin, outlining every curve and showcasing my figure. The hem stops mid-thigh, revealing my smooth, creamy legs that appear even longer thanks to the sleek, towering white stilettos.

Thin straps swoop down into a dramatically low neckline, and the ample cleavage on display, sculpted by some discreetly applied tit-tape, is undeniable. The pull of the tape holding firm is a subtle reassurance, since there’s no way I could wear a bra—or any underwear, for that matter.

The thin, silky material would show off every crease, so I go without, but that in itself has created more problems. The pale colour of the delicate fabric makes it nearly transparent, my peaked nipples boldly visible beneath. I’m hoping the sheer detail only adds to the costume.

Wren has woven my long, strawberry-blonde hair into a cascade of tight curls that brush against the expanse of my lower back. A few strands have been artfully pulled back, delicately sweeping away from my face, framing my features.

Clipped onto the top of my head, hovering above me, is a fluffy white halo, which glistens under the lights. As I slide the matching feathery wings onto my back, they complete the ethereal feel of my angel costume.

The last element of my look is my makeup, a point of contention with Wren since my arrival. I wanted to keep it simple, adding to the angelic aesthetic I’ve created, but Wren disagreed. She wanted me to go full glam, pushing me more into the fallen angel category.

In the end, of course, my pushy best friend won, and as I admire her art in the mirror, I hate to say; she was right. The velvety darkness of the smoky eyes, intensified by the thick, black eyeliner, creates a stark contrast that makes my blue eyes pop, perfectly contrasting the all-white outfit. The bold bright-red gloss transforms my lips, making them appear plump and luscious; the final sultry touch needed to ignite the look.