Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 133

Chapter 133

Rhazeil

The fire has dwindled to embers, soft light breathing over the walls. The scent of smoke and her skin

mingles in the still air. Allison lies against me, her breath a slow rhythm that matches the faint bem o ow bond. The sigils along her body flicker gently, tracing blue constellations across her skin. I study them, unable to stop myself. The patterns shift with her heartbeat, every pulse sending ripples of light been

her skin. She stirs slightly, eyes heavy, and catches me watching.

Her lips curve faintly. “You’re staring again.”

“I can’t seem to stop.” My thumb grazes her jaw. “Tell me the truth-are you hurt? Was I too rough?”

Her smile softens, eyes half-closed. “You didn’t hurt me she whispers. “You were perfect.

I start to argue, to say something about control and restraint and how easily I could lose both, but she presses her fingers to my chest. “Don’t,” she murmurs. “My body, my heart, my soul, they were made for you. In no world would we not fit.”

Something tightens behind my ribs, a slow ache that feels almost like worship. I bow my head, pressing a kiss to her temple. The warmth of her skin seeps through my lips.

“You undo me,” I say, voice rougher than I mean it to be.

“Good.”

Her laughter is soft, breathy, and it lingers in the air between us long after it fades. For a while, neither of us moves. The quiet stretches, the crackle of the dying fire is the only sound. When I finally rise, I gather her carefully in my arms. She lets out a small hum of surprise but doesn’t resist, only curls closer, her head resting against my shoulder as though it belongs there, which it does. The adjoining chamber waits with its low stone bath, steam curling lazily into the air. I warm the water with a thought. Shadows slide from the walls, stirring the surface, and the faint scent of lavender fills the room. I lower her into the water, my hands steady beneath her. The surface ripples as she exhales, eyes fluttering shut.

“Let me care for you,” I whisper.

Her lashes lift. “You already do.”

1 dip a cloth into the water, wring it out, and start with her shoulders, working slowly and gently. Each pass

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Chapter 133

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of the cloth draws tiny shivers from her skin. The sigils pulse faintly under the heat, alive in the lamplight, and she sighs, leaning into the warmth. When I reach her hands, she turns one over and threads her fingers through mine. The contact is small, simple, but it roots me. Her thumb traces an absent pattern

across my knuckle.

“You worry too much,” she says.

“I have reason to.” My voice comes quieter now. “You’re everything I was never meant to have.”

Her mouth tilts upward. “And yet here I am.”

A smile catches me off guard. “And here you stay.”

She laughs softly. The sound threads through me, bright where I am shadow. I rinse the cloth and move to

her hair, careful with the strands. My claws weave through, untangling knots, drawing out the remnants of

her day and our passion both. She leans her head back into my palm with a quiet, trusting sigh. Her trust

undoes me more than any touch. The way she gives herself to the moment, no fear, no flinch and no guard.

She is all softness where the world has demanded she be steel. I pour warm water over her hair. It glides

down the curve of her throat, across her collarbones, rejoining the pool below. She watches me through

half-closed eyes, silent, content.

“This,” she murmurs, “is dangerous.”

“Why?”

“Because I could get used to it.”

I smile. “That is the intention.”

She shakes her head, but her smile betrays her. The water laps quietly as I finish. The marks along her skin shimmer, dimming slightly as she relaxes. When I help her from the bath, steam curls around her like mist,

and I wrap her in linen and lift her once more, carrying her through the archway.

Her head rests against my shoulder, her claws tracing idle shapes over my chest. “You’re quiet,” she says.

“There are no words strong enough.”

The corner of her mouth lifts again. “That was very poetic of you.”

“Do not tell anyone.”

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Chapter 133

Her laughter fills the hall. The sound follows us back to the chamber, softening everything it touches.

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I lower her to the bed, tucking the blanket around her shoulders. She catches my wrist before I can step

away.

“Stay.”

“I wasn’t planning to leave.”

I sit beside her, then lie down, letting her find her place against me. She curls into my chest, her legs

tangling with mine, her body fitting perfectly in the spaces carved for her. My tail loops loosely around her

calves, the tip brushing the linen.

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