A dragon shifter novel Chapter 38

15:30 Sat, Jul

Thornhill Academy

Tell Me How

Allison

Bit The

Morning comes too early, far too abruptly, with a pounding on my attic door that feels less like knocking and more like someone trying break it down “Allison! Open up!” Groaning, I drag myself out of bed, every muscle stiff, my back still sore despite the siphoned neating When I yank the door open, Tessa practically falls inside, cheeks flushed, braid half undone. “You could’ve died yesterday the blurts De you have any idea how worried I was?” I blink at her, hair sticking up in every possible direction. “Good morning to you too thing about Tessa is that she doesn’t give up. She marches straight into the kitchen, whips open my fridge, and makes a face ‘Empty Figures. Get dressed, we’re going into town. Breakfast, groceries, the works.” Which is how I find myself, less than an hour later, sifting in a cozy booth at The Witches Brew while she orders enough food for three people and I try to keep my head from sinking into my arms. Over coffee and the world’s largest plate of pancakes, I give her the short version of yesterday. Not all of it. Definitely not the vents, or the siphoning, or Cage’s little nightmare… Just the accident, the infirmary and Evander and Kael finding me. Tessa listens with her usual wide eyes and furious little huffs, stabbing her fork into her food like she wants to stab Cage’s face instead. By the time we finish at the grocery shop and load half of it into my cupboards and fridge, I actually feel… almost normal. Which, considering yesterday, is saying

something.

The peace doesn’t last, though, because now I’m back in the castle-like halls of the Academy, heading toward the one class I’m not sure I want to face today: Potions and Alchemy. The corridors smell faintly of chalk dust and herbs, and my stomach twists as I slide into a seat near the front. Professor Hill is late. I tap my fingers against the desk, waiting. Eventually, the door creaks open, and my head snaps up. only to sour instantly. Cage, the asshole himself, saunters in like he owns the place, one hand shoved in his pocket and that infuriating smirk fixed to his face. My glare hits him like a thrown dagger. He only sneers back, deliberate and slow, before slouching into a seat two rows over. Tessa leans closer to whisper. “Holy shit. That’s one hell of a black eye. Did you do that to him?”

“I wish,” I mutter, with a laugh slipping out anyway. My chest tightens, though, because if I didn’t do it… who did? I don’t get the luxury of dwelling because that’s when the door swings wide, sharp and deliberate, and Professor Hill strides in. Hill doesn’t walk like other professors. He cuts through the air. Long black coat, silver fastenings gleaming, dark hair falling loose enough to look careless, though I know better. Nothing about him is careless. A mind reader never is. His sharp grey eyes sweep the room once, and the air goes taut with the collective shuffle of students straightening in their seats. “Page, one hundred and thirty-two,” he says flatly, his voice carrying without effort. “Ingredients list. You’ll need them memorised before the week is out.” Books thump open, pages rifle, quills scratch, but I don’t move… Because Hill’s gaze lingers too long, right on me. A cold shiver runs up my spine, and I snap my attention to the grain of the desk as if it might save me. The weight of his stare feels like a hand pressing at my skull, probing, searching. Shit. I reach fast and hard, siphoning his magic before I can second-guess myself, feeling it burn against my ribs. Then I slam up my mental walls thicker than stone, faster than instinct. There is silence, but my pulse hammers anyway. Did he get in? Did he see? I risk the smallest glance up. Hill has moved on, eyes sliding across the rest of the room with no hint of what just happened. His expression is unreadable and detached. Still, my gut tells me different, because for just one second, one razor-slice of a moment, his lips twitch… Almost like he smirks.

While the rest of the class bends over notes, quills scratching like insect legs, his voice cuts clean through the air. “Rivers.” I stiffen. “My office. Now.” Heads jerk up. A few students gawk, Cage included, his smirk blooming like the bruise across his face. Hill doesn’t even look at them. He simply extends one arm, sleeve falling back to reveal the faint shimmer of a rune at his wrist, and gestures toward the door tucked into the corner of the room. Every muscle in me screams not to go, but I stand anyway, because not going would be worse. The small office is dark, shelves crammed with books, glass jars glinting with things I don’t recognise. The moment the door shuts behind me, the air shifts. It turns heavy and thick. Hill flicks his hand once, and the space trembles with the low hum of magic as a soundproofing ward locks into place. Then there’s a deafening click as he locks the door. I swallow hard. Hill doesn’t move from where he stands, back half-lit by the glow of his desk lamp. He stares right at me, those storm-grey eyes calculating, stripping, peeling me apart without ever lifting a finger or entering my mind. The silence is crushing me. Finally, his voice comes, low and sharp. “How are you standing?” I blink.

1/2

15:30 Sat, Jul 11

Tell Me How

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Of all the questions I expect, none of them are that. So I shoot back with the only weapon I have left Sarcasm “Well I say, folding my arms, “I have these things called feet and legs. They help.” His expression doesn’t change, but something flickers in his eyes Amusement Annoyance? Maybe both. “Clever,” he murmurs. His gaze sweeps me from head to toe, lingering just long enough to make me want to squirm. “But that’s not what I asked.” Then his voice drops lower, to the kind of quiet that is worse than shouting “I heard about what happened yesterday.” My mouth goes dry. “How you nearly drowned. How you were torn apart by something in those woods” His ex narrow. “I’ve seen the injuries myself.” I blink. He’s been snooping… In other people’s heads. The realisation makes my skin crawl. “! know the Academy’s healers are good,” he continues, each word precise and deliberate, “but not this good. Not fast enough to have you walking into my classroom as if nothing touched you.” He steps closer, and the air crackles faintly around him. “No,” he says softly “To heal this quickly, it would take a highly skilled magical. Someone who knew exactly what they were doing.” My heart thuds too loudly, too obviously, threatening to expose me. His gaze bores into me, stripping past clothes and skin, straight into the lies I want to keep locked tight. “So I’ll ask you again, Ms Rivers,” he murmurs, voice like the pull of a blade. “How are you standing?”

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R Visitor

Oh he’s good! &

7 days ago

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15:30 Sat, Jul 11

Thornhill Academy