Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 220

stagger, drop to their knees, scream as their minds fracture under something unseen, I gasp, dropping to one knee, hands braced against the dirt. Cassian. The realisation is instant and horrifying. I force myself to breathe through it, teeth clenched, clinging to the edges of my own mind with everything I have. The pressure eases just enough for me to think again as fire erupts somewhere overhead and a roar shakes the ground. Dragons. The air fills with heat and screaming and the stench of burned magic. Hellhounds burst from the trees, fast and lethal, tearing into lines that no longer exist. Demons rise out of the shadows like nightmares given form. It’s not a battle… It’s a slaughter. I stagger to my feet, heart hammering, spinning in place, searching desperately through smoke and fire and chaos.

Where are you? Where are you?

I don’t see her. I don’t see any of them. But I feel her-steady, controlled, terrifyingly calm-and that terrifies me more than anything else. She planned this. All of it. And I’m standing in the middle of it, alive only because she wanted me to be. I don’t know whether that means I’m saved. Or already dead.

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20:33 Thu, Jan 15

Thornhill Academy

Off the Leash

Kael

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Stupid motherfucker. Just walking under my tree like this forest isn’t about to eat him alive. I’ve already stripped down to nothing, clothes folded and tucked where I can grab them later if I live long enough to care. Bare skin, bare teeth, bare instincts. My muscles hum

with anticipation, every nerve stretched tight as a drawn bow. I’ve been perched here for maybe twenty minutes. Twenty long, glorious

minutes of waiting. The Council soldier beneath me trudges along, boots crunching loud enough that I can practically hear his heartbeat.

He’s muttering to himself, grip loose on his weapon, confidence leaking out of him in waves. Poor, stupid, bastard. I grin and jump. I shift

midair, bones snapping and reforming in a rush of heat and power, my body slamming into full hellhound form before I even hit him. My

teeth sink into his neck, razor-sharp and unforgiving, tearing through muscle and vocal cords in one clean bite. The scream of his death

dies on my teeth. Blood sprays warm and metallic across my muzzle as he drops, dead before his body even finishes hitting the ground.

Game on, motherfuckers.

The forest explodes. Soldiers shout. Someone fires blindly into the trees. Another one stumbles backward, tripping over his own feet as

panic finally punches through their discipline. And then my pack drops. Bodies hit the ground all around me as hellhounds rain down

from branches and shadows, claws first, teeth bared, violence precise and merciless. We slice. We dice. We eviscerate. There’s no elegant

word for it, no pretty rhythm. Just speed and fury and the sick, satisfying crunch of bone under jaw. One soldier turns, eyes wide, weapon

shaking as he tries to raise it. I hit him from the side, shoulder slamming into his ribs hard enough to cave them in. He screams long and loud, and I relish it, snapping his spine with a twist of my head. Zero consequences. No guilt. No hesitation. This is what I was made for.

Kael is off the leash, baby.

“FLANKS!” someone screams.

Too late. We’re already there. Hellhounds tear through their lines, dragging soldiers into the undergrowth, bodies vanishing into the dark with choked cries and snapping bones. They scatter exactly like Allison said they would, running in every direction at once, cohesion shattering under the weight of fear. I duck under a wild swing, claws raking up into a man’s stomach, spilling him open like a sack of grain. Another one charges me head-on, desperation etched across his face. I laugh. Internally, obviously, but still, I hear myself cackle as I lock in on the taste of his blood. He never had a chance. I feel Allison through the bond-steady, controlled, alive-and it makes something feral and protective snap into place inside me. My girl is here in this, and anyone who thinks they’re touching her is going to die screaming, or trying to at least.

A soldier bolts toward the tree line. Bad choice, buddy, I see you there. I sprint after him, muscles burning, ground blurring beneath my paws. He glances back once, terror flooding his face. I leap, probably looking bad ass as hell. We crash together, rolling through dirt and leaves. He claws at me, nails scraping uselessly against hide. I bite down on his shoulder, wrenching him sideways, then I clamp down again and tear his throat out with a savage shake of my head. Blood coats my chest like war paint. The forest smells like iron, smoke, and fear. Perfect. I hope they piss themselves while dying for trying to hunt my girl. Magic erupts somewhere deeper in the trees, probably Cassian’s work, because it looks sharp and surgical. He’s probably having fun snapping minds like overstretched wires. I watch as soldiers drop mid-stride, clutching their heads, screaming or sobbing or just collapsing where they stand. Good for him. Make it hurt, Commander. I tear back into the fray, my pack moving with instinctive precision, no commands needed. We fight like we breathe-together, relentlessly and unstoppable. A blast of fire roars overhead. Oh, the dragons have joined the party. Let the fireworks begin! The sky lights up as flames tear through the camp, incinerating spellcasters who thought they were untouchable. The ground shakes with roars that feel like victory given sound, and then the shadows move. Daddy is here. Demons rise out of nothing, claws and teeth and ancient rage sealing every escape route. Soldiers slam into invisible barriers, screaming as shadows close around them, dragging them back into the killing

field. There is no way out.

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20:33 Thu, Jan 15

Off the Leash

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I rip into another soldier, blood spraying across my face, and somewhere in the chaos, I catch sight of Evander, shifting back to human long enough to bark orders before launching skyward again. We’re winning, and it’s not just luck or good looks doing it. We’re winning because we planned this, because she planned this. Because the Council underestimated us. A horn blares, shrill and desperate.

“Retreat!”

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The word ripples through their ranks, but it means nothing now. There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to regroup. The ground itself has

turned against them. I tear through another line, claws slick with blood, heart hammering with adrenaline and joy and something

dangerously close to peace. This is my element. This is where I belong. You’re all in my nightmare now, fuckers. I catch a flicker of

movement ahead-someone breaking through the chaos, fast and determined, heading toward where Allison is. Oh no, you don’t. Not my

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