Forbidden Freedom

Chapter 23

Nowadays

England

Standing at the entrance to the classroom, I weigh the pros and cons of attending the lecture. I'm not sure if Ethan will provide any useful information about art history. It's entirely possible he'll just read out a Wikipedia article on the topic. Otherwise, I can't imagine where he gets his knowledge from, being completely ignorant of the subject he teaches.

With a smirk, I remember how he once mixed-up Botticelli and Van Gogh. Even a five-year-old could tell their paintings apart. I wonder what his parents were thinking. I thought that in British families with a rich and long pedigree, children are typically educated in numerous disciplines from a young age.

The only thing Ethan excels at is driving people insane. This is his true area of expertise.

I'm about to turn around and head back to my dorm when I run into the chancellor. With a restrained smile and a piercing gaze, he scans my appearance, making me feel like a grade-schooler in the principal's office.

As luck would have it, the stern, white-haired chancellor walks past me. His presence in the hallway, however, reminds me of an important fact: missing classes affects my study grant. I've already skipped a few classes with Selina when I couldn't bear to see Ethan.

And this demon is vindictive enough to report me for it. He'd probably relish giving me a reprimand and notifying the chancellor.

I sigh heavily and turn back towards the classroom door. Well, here goes nothing. I'll trust in Ethan's wisdom. Hopefully, he won't do anything outrageous in front of the other students. Then again, remembering that evening when he was ready to kiss me in front of a student...

Ethan is capable of anything. I mustn't forget that. The lingering haze of past infatuation threatens to envelop me again. I need to rid myself of it immediately.

There can be nothing between Ethan and me. Period.

On shaky legs, I enter the classroom where most of my classmates have already gathered. Selina is sweetly chatting with Chiara, casting occasional glances my way to gauge my reaction. I won't give her this satisfaction.

In some ways, I'm relieved about my fallout with Selina. Now Ethan won't suspect anything about our relationship, and I won't have to hide in corners with her, pretending indifference every time he walks by.

Lifting my chin proudly, I head to my favorite seat by the window when I hear a voice call out behind me.

"Miss Bailey, there you are," Ethan's stern voice booms, his finger tapping too loudly on his desk.

What came into his head again? Has he come up with another reason to punish me in front of everyone?

"Professor Lawrence," I reply with exaggerated politeness, turning to face Blake. My sharp gaze sweeps over his blue shirt and black trousers, wishing I could pierce right through him. "Did you need something?"

"Yes, Miss Bailey," Ethan's eyes glint with mischief. He's up to something. "The chancellor has heard rumors about your skipped classes. I need you to come with me."

A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to swallow and breathe. Crap. Is he really going to exact his revenge like this? Does my escape from Harmony Springs equate for him to the ruin of my future?

Out of habit, I glance at Selina. She's risen from her seat, worry etched across her face, but I shake my head. No. Don't draw his attention.

Selina slowly sinks back down, her gaze never leaving me, looking more like a frightened fawn than ever. Her large eyes have grown even bigger, their moisture sparkling more brightly.

Is she really about to cry for me? It's oddly comforting to know she still cares about my fate despite everything.

I trail behind Ethan down the corridor, who doesn't bother looking back. He doesn't need to. It's clear from my resigned shuffling of my feet that I'm obediently following him. The scent of dust and stagnant humidity fills the old hallway on the university's first floor. This smell has become synonymous with freedom for me since moving here after the treatment facility.

Ethan slows down in one of the corridor's darkest corners. An old wall sconce shaped like a candle has long since burned out here. Even I, who walk this route almost every day, always tread carefully, wary of tripping over the uneven parquet or one of the vintage chests.

"Gotcha, little bird," Ethan hisses softly, grabbing my arm and pinning me against the brick wall of a semicircular niche. Perhaps the most secluded and dark place in the entire first-floor hallway.

"Are you insane?" I gasp, looking around in alarm and trying to listen for footsteps. But all I hear is our ragged breathing.

My stomach tightens into a knot of tension. Where Ethan touches me burns like fire. Goosebumps race across my skin at the speed of light, reviving the nearly dead butterfly fluttering weakly in my belly.

I inhale the musty air sharply as Ethan leans in and wraps an arm around my waist. My bag slips from my fingers, hitting the floor with a thud. The echo reverberates down the corridor passes us by. I don't even flinch, ensnared by Blake's icy gaze.

"It's time to finish what you started," Ethan murmurs, his warm, wet tongue tracing my lips before capturing them in a hungry kiss that takes my breath away.