Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 101

say suffy. Taie

The air between us stills, and my heart races. It’s finally happening. My mare vill feet from me. I suck in a deep bresti ve first tingle in my power. It is not visible when she draws, but I feetliny essence. The way my mage sirs like a tre ting toward her. My shadows stretch, reaching, tasting the air. And then she is there her presence insting against mine like the far bette before a storm. It is not taking. It is communion. Her dariness touches mine, and the bond between in sing tapi In the of her fear softening, the frantic thrum of her heart easing as she drinks from me. My stations curl around her waist, ceting puring whispering enough, enough, though I would let her take all of me if she ested. Its as long as her magic is great for me a thug e can’t get enough of the taste of me, and it makes me proud and day at the same time. Then I see it…She can begin test w a shimmer and a ripple, as if moonlight itself is walking beneath her fest. The sat human hue fates inu lumtues die dening with each breath. Sigils bloom along her collarbones and arms, tracing down to her fingers in patients that mitur my own. Her tur lith caught in an invisible current, and the shadows move with bet, swirling slowly and reverenty. Buns the fun within her bar, spuitt and curved, catching the dim light like polished obsidian. Her eyes–gods, her eyes–shit from their gentle hike to svmething we und endless like midnight skies. Then her hands form claws, sharp and deadly, and I hear the unmistakable tear of her puma buttons belum a long, sleek, black tail with a razor end flicks happily across the floor. My knees nearly give way.

Every shadow in the room bends toward her. My realm answers to her presence even here, in the afte nom del suddenly feed Her a throne hall. My magic recognises its queen before my mind can even name her. She stares down at her hands, breathing hard, ave and disbelief tangled in her expression. “Raziel,” she whispers, voice low and rough. “What is happening”

“You are,” I breathe. “You are happening.”

I step closer, slow, not wanting to break the spell. Her shadows part for me, and when I reach out, the sigh allang her sin glow iger beneath my touch, mirroring my own sigils behavioven

“You are the first,” I tell her quietly, “to ever hold my power without burning.”

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