Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 21

Which House Will You Belong To?

The corridor outside Professor Hill’s office was too quiet. I lifted my fist and knocked on the heavy oak door. Nothing. I scowled, hitting harder. Still nothing. though I could feel him inside. That steady thrum of magic, sharp and coiled like storm clouds pressed against glass, told me he was there, just out of reach. I knocked again, hard enough to rattle the wood.

The door swung open so fast I nearly stumbled back. Cassian Hill stood there, jaw clenched, eyes simmering with irritation. “Ms. Rivers. What in the gods‘ names are you doing here? And what exactly do you want?”

1 froze. My plan had started and ended with: find Hill, steal a little magic, leave. Talking wasn’t part of it.

The first thing that slipped out of my mouth was idiotic. “I was wondering if you’d… train me.”

His frown deepened, carving lines into his face. “No.” Flat. Final. He began to close the door.

I shoved my hand against it before it could slam shut. “That’s it? Just no?”

His eyes narrowed, storm–grey and cutting. “You’re wasting my time.”

My pulse spiked. The steady hum of his power brushed closer, just enough to tempt me, I reached, pulling a thread of it into me. It sparked under my skin, sharp and clean. I hadn’t meant to take more than a sip, but anger burned through my restraint. He wanted to be an asshole? Fine. I took more. Enough that

the air between us seemed to tighten.

His brows drew together, not in realisation, but in irritation at my audacity. “Your arrogance will be your undoing, Ms. Rivers.”

I leaned on the door, chin high. “Or maybe it’ll be the only reason I survive here.”

His mouth curved into the barest shadow of a sneer. “You’re not worth my time.”

And this time, he shoved the door shut with enough force to jar my shoulder, wood slamming in my face.

I stood there, heat crawling under my skin, the hum of his stolen magic restless in my veins.

“Asshole,” I muttered, spinning on my heel.

I had taken more than I’d intended, but it was useful. Enough to get me through whatever waited in that assessment hall.

The Power Assessment hall was all stone and echoes, a round chamber with high windows and a circle etched into the floor. Symbols crawled along the edges, glowing faintly, shifting as though alive. Principal Scorched stood waiting at the far side, arms folded, his dragon aura thick in the air, pressing down like heat from a forge. His gaze pinned me the moment I stepped into the chamber.

* Student

“Ms. Rivers,” he rumbled, gesturing toward the glowing circle. “Today, you will be assessed. Every student undergoes this trial during their first week. It determines not only your strength but where you belong within Thornhill.”

I moved to the edge of the circle, wary, my boots clicking against the stone. “Belong where?”

His golden eyes gleamed, as though he’d been waiting for me to ask. “In one of the Four Houses. All who study here are divided, not by bloodline, but by

ability.”

He lifted a clawed hand, ticking them off.

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12:16 Mon, Dec 29

Which House Will You Belong To?

“Draconis. The rare and the powerful. Students placed here are exceptional, those whose gifts can bend the course of war. They are given the strictest

training and the heaviest burdens.”

His eyes narrowed on me before shifting to the next.

“Lunaris. Strategists, scholars, manipulators of magic. Cunning and sharp, they are the minds that shape the world while others bleed for it.”

“Aureus. Warriors. Shifters, fighters, those with unyielding strength and loyalty. The Aureus are the backbone of Thornhill, the ones who hold the line.”

Finally, his tone dipped into something edged with disdain.

“Noctis. Tricksters, misfits, the unstable. Powerful, yes, but unpredictable. They are… less disciplined, less useful, though not without purpose.”

The weight of his stare settled on me again. “You, Ms. Rivers, will be tested to see where you belong, where you will train and where you will fight.”

I swallowed hard, but kept my chin high. “And how exactly do you test that?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, almost like a smile. “Simple. You meet someone of equal power, and we see who breaks first.”

The doors creaked open behind me then, heavy and slow.

“Ah. Late, as always,” Scorched said, voice laced with dry amusement.

I turned. Cassian Hill strode in, ten minutes behind, jacket hanging loose, hair rumpled, looking not as polished as he was only minutes ago but… frayed. Oops, that’s probably because of me. He didn’t even glance at me as he stepped into the circle opposite mine. My gut sank. Equal power. Perfect. Hill stepped into the circle opposite me, his long stride echoing off the stone. He adjusted his cuffs like the whole thing was beneath him, then finally lifted his

storm–grey eyes to mine.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said flatly.

Scorched raised a hand. The runes flaring around the circle brightened, pulsing once before settling into a steady glow. “Begin.”

Hill’s presence pressed against me instantly, sharp and invasive, like icy water seeping through cracks in stone. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t soften the blow; his magic slammed straight for the core of me. I grit my teeth and shoved back, throwing up the mental walls I’d been building since yesterday. His power scraped across them, searching for gaps. Testing. Probing. But I’d come prepared. The siphoned thread of his own magic hummed in my veins, and I used it to reinforce every seam. His brow creased, just slightly, when he failed to break through. He pushed harder. I smiled. And shoved back.

The world tilted for a moment as I slid past his defences, slipping into his mind with ease. The surprise in his eyes was quick, there and gone, but I felt it all

the same. His thoughts flickered past me: potion formulas, lecture notes, a list of supplies. And then–What would her hair feel like, running through my

fingers?

Heat crawled up my neck. He wasn’t looking at me, not outwardly, but the thought was raw, unguarded, impossible to ignore. Before I could push deeper, his

barriers slammed up with violent force, severing the connection so sharply it made me reel.

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