Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 184

Chapter 184

Allison

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Rhaziel steps toward me with that slow, deliberate grace that makes the floorboards groan under his weight, and when his hand rises to cup my cheek, breath snags high in my throat and refuses to move.

my

“I must return,” he murmurs, voice low enough to be mistaken for the wind threading through the cracks in the cabin walls. “I have lingered too long, and the kingdom will become… restless.” His thumb drags once across my cheek, a stroke so gentle it almost breaks me open. “But I will come back to you.”

The words press into me with the weight of something bittersweet-too heavy to hold, too precious to release. I nod, even though everything inside me, every shadow, every bone, every trembling beat of my pulse wants to take his shirt in my fists and beg him to stay a little longer, just one more hour, one more breath, until the world stabilises beneath my feet again. He dips his forehead to mine, a soft brush of warmth and shadow, a tether that has anchored me more times than I can count-and then he pulls back. His eyes glow with molten heat and something terrifyingly tender.

“You are not alone anymore, Hummingbird.”

Then he steps away, his shadows curling around him until the air folds behind him and they disappear completely. My sigils pulse once, as if mourning the

loss of him, and I rub my chest to soothe the ache. The silence he leaves behind is not empty. Just… aching. A hollowed echo carved into the room.

0

Cassian breaks it first.

“Kael,” he says without looking up from the pot simmering over a small improvised flame, “sit back before you tear something open again.”

Kael crosses his arms with all the indignation a bruised, blood-splattered man can muster. “No. I want to watch. What if you put something weird in it? I

should supervise.”

Cassian raises one unimpressed brow. “You can supervise from the ground.”

“No.” Kael points to the floor beside him. “Not unless Allison sits with me. I require emotional support”

Evander laughs, soft, pained, but real, and pats the empty space at his other side. “He’s thriving on attention. Best to give it to him.”

Kael elbows him with the force of a damp noodle. “I am not thriving. I am suffering beautifully.”

Despite myself, warmth blooms in my chest, and I lower myself between them. Kael immediately leans against me, half-purring, half-groaning. Evander’s fingers slip into mine, grounding me with a steady, gentle touch. Cassian glances over once… then again… and the second look lingers a heartbeat too long. Something subtle shifts in his expression, in the slope of his shoulders-something softer, something steady, something like he’s letting himself want to belong. He stirs the draught with slow precision, the kind of controlled ease that only comes from brewing in places worse than this, maybe a burned-out watchtower, a battlefield ditch or a cabin with shadows creeping under every doorframe. I can only imagine the pain he has endured and the violence he has seen at the wall; still, his hands never tremble. His concentration never wavers. He finishes the last measure, stirs once, twice, then rises with the pot in

hand.

“Drink,” he says simply.

Evander obeys. Kael gags like he’s dying, swallows, then gags again for dramatic effect.

Cassian checks their eyes, their pulse points, the colour returning to Kael’s face. Then he sits back on his heels.

“By morning,” he says, voice sliding into something clipped and clinical, “you’ll be healed enough to move at full pace.”

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Chapter 184

A knot twists sharply in my stomach. “We have to move at full pace. The concealment potion lasts two days. And we’ve already lost one.”

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Cassian’s brows draw together, thoughtful and sharp. “We can scavenge ingredients for another batch tomorrow. Some should grow near the ridge.” His voice drops lower. “But I’m not currently concealed… My magic is like a beacon. If the Council tracks me right now…they could follow my signature to all of you.”

The cabin stills, and the air tightens. His jaw flexes once.

“I should go ahead,” he says finally, pushing to his feet with a slow, heavy exhale. “If they pick up my trail, better they find me alone than find all of you

together.”

The words hit like a cold blade under the ribs. Before the logic settles in, before the fear can morph into something else, my hand shoots out and closes

around his wrist.

“Cassian-” My voice escapes in a thin, fragile line. “I don’t want you to go.”

He freezes, not because of my grip, but maybe because of the tremble beneath the words.

“Allison,” he says gently, painfully, “it’s not safe for me to stay. If they trace me-”

“I don’t care.” The confession spills out before I can cage it. “I’d rather they find us together than find you alone.”

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