Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 167

Chapter 167

Allison

Rafe rises from his chair slowly, stretching his arms. “Alright, you miserable bastards,” he calls, “Let’s liven things up a little, shall we?”

The crowd answers with a thunderous roar, boots stomping against the metal grates, fists pounding on tables, excitement rolling through the room. Rafe’s gaze slides past me and lands on the two men flanking me, more specifically, on Evander.

“I think,” Rafe drawls, “it’s time we give the people something new. Something fresh.” His smirk widens, wicked and delighted. “Some fresh meat.”

Evander doesn’t even flinch. He exhales quietly, steps forward without being asked twice, and for a moment, I consider calling it all off.

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Rafe claps once, loud and sharp. “Get in the ring, pretty boy.”

Evander drops into the pit with a fluidity that feels entirely wrong given how drained he is. The sand shifts under his boots as he straightens, rolling out his

shoulders.

“Now,” Rafe purrs, turning toward the opposite gate, “let’s make things… interesting.”

He lifts his hand, and the crowd leans in. “Bring out Grizzly.”

The gate slams upward, and the thing that steps out is not a man but the suggestion of one-massive, scarred, breathing in low, rumbling huffs that shake the dust off the walls. His body ripples with partial shift: fur along his arms, claws curved like hooked blades, jaw already distending with teeth that gleam in the sickly lanternlight. The crowd loses its mind. Kael curses under his breath, and I grip the railing until splinters dig into my palms. Evander stands there, breathing slowly, eyes steady, body riddled with exhaustion he refuses to show.

Rafe laughs, loud and delighted. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

The bell rings, and Grizzly charges with the kind of force that makes the ground tremble beneath my boots. Evander moves only when he must, a single sidestep that lets the shifter’s massive arm graze his shoulder instead of crushing it. The impact still sends him stumbling, sand spraying under his feet as Grizzly ploughs past like an avalanche. The crowd screams for blood. Evander straightens, jaw clenched, eyes locked, his breathing steady despite the visible tremor in his limbs. Grizzly turns with terrifying quickness as he barrels forward again. This time, he swipes sideways, a sweeping blow meant to take Evander’s head clean off, and Evander drops to one knee, the claws slicing the air inches above him. Grizzly oversteps, and Evander doesn’t waste the mistake. He drives his fist into the Grizzly’s exposed ribs with every ounce of momentum he can muster. The sound is a sharp, sickening crack and Grizzly grunts, more surprised than hurt, his mass shifting backward from the blow. Evander pulls back, shaking out his hand. I can see the skin already swelling.

“That’s it,” Kael mutters beside me, voice tight. “Make him move. Make him-shit, LOOK OUT”

Grizzly lunges before the sentence finishes, both arms coming down in a twin hammer of bone and muscle. Evander rolls under it, the impact of Grizzly’s fists slamming into the pit floor with a thunder that rattles the metal rail beneath my hands. Evander comes up swinging. A sharp strike to the jaw. A hook to the temple. A blow to the sternum that would have staggered anyone human. Grizzly snarls through all of it, more enraged than injured, grabbing for Evander’s throat with claws meant to tear through steel. Evander jerks back, but not fast enough-the claws clip his collarbone, and blood blooms instantly.

“Evander!” I shout, but my voice is nothing in this place.

Grizzly surges forward like a freight train, and this time Evander doesn’t dodge; he plants his feet, braces, and meets the shifter head-on, slamming both palms against the Grizzly’s forearms to redirect the blow. The hit still lands, glancing off his ribs with enough force to knock him sideways, but it keeps him alive. He collapses to one knee, one arm pressed to his bleeding shoulder. The crowd loses its mind.

Rafe laughs behind us, delighted. “Oh, he’s fun. Look at him go.”

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17:14 Thu, Jan 1 M

Chapter 167

KIKA

Evander spits blood into the sand, pushes himself upright, and forces his body back into stance.

Grizzly advances with slow, deliberate steps now, savouring the moment, rolling his shoulders as his spine begins to stretch, vertebrae shifting under his skin. He’s close to a full shift. Evander won’t survive a fully shifted bear.

“Move,” I whisper. “Evander, move, get up, get up-”

He hears none of it. Or maybe he hears all of it. Because he lifts his head, draws in one controlled breath, and charges. The crowd falls into a stunned hush. Evander slams his shoulder into the Grizzly’s torso, driving him back a step, enough to interrupt the shift. Evander’s fists fly, fast and brutal, striking every soft target he can reach: beneath the ribs, under the arm, the exposed section of throat not yet covered in fur. Grizzly roars and swings wildly. Evander ducks, rolls, and uses the momentum to kick the shifter’s knee sideways. The joint gives with an ugly crack. The bear shifter falters and Evander follows ap immediately, slamming an elbow into the back of the Grizzly’s neck. It’s a killing blow-if Evander had any magic left behind it. As it is, it only forces the Grizzly to stumble forward, dazed. Evander staggers back, chest heaving, sweat and blood streaking down his face, his eyes unfocused for a moment from the effort it took to stay upright. His hand trembles, his ribs are bruised and blackened, and his shoulder is bleeding freely.

Still, he refuses to fall. The Grizzly snaps his head up with a guttural roar, grabbing Evander around the waist and lifting him straight off the ground before slamming him into the sand hard enough that the whole pit shudders.

“EVANDER!” I shout, because for a moment-too long a moment-he doesn’t move.

Kael grips the railing so hard it groans under his fingers. “Get up,” he breathes. “Come on, man, get UP-”

The Grizzly raises his arm for the finishing blow, and Evander’s hand shoots up like lightning, catching the shifter’s wrist mid-air. The crowd collectively gasps. Evander’s eyes open, bright, sharp and furious. He twists, and Grizzly howls as his wrist breaks under the torque. Evander surges upward, slamming his forehead into the shifter’s nose with a crack that sends blood spraying across both of them. Grizzly reels backward, clutching his face, and Evander doesn’t hesitate. He drives his knee into the shifter’s gut and, with a final, brutal blow, a punch straight to the exposed jaw hinge that drops Grizzly like a

felled tree.

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