Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 225

I scream. The sound tears out of me before I’m aware I’m making it, raw and violent and uncontained, ripping through my throat like something alive. It doesn’t sound human. It doesn’t feel human. It feels like grief given lungs. I’m mid-shift when it happens. Half wraith, half me, the change burning through my veins, my bones screaming as power floods outward, shadows already tearing loose around my limbs, when I see Cage. For one suspended heartbeat, the chaos falls away, and there’s only him standing in front of me, eyes wide, face pale, staring at me like he’s seeing me for the first and last time all at once. I see the fear flash across his expression, sharp and honest and devastatingly human. I see the understanding settle in his gaze as he takes in what I’m becoming, what I’ve unleashed, what’s about to happen. And then his eyes flick right. Just for a second. He sees something I don’t. Recognition turns to resolve so fast it steals the air from my lungs. His jaw sets. His shoulders square. Determination locks into place like armour snapping shut.

“No-” I try to say his name, try to move, try to pull the power back, but it’s already too late.

He lunges straight for me. For my wraith. For the space where I stand, where the magic is tearing the world apart. The blast hits him in the face. Dark magic slams into him with sickening force, splitting one eye completely in half and splintering across his features in a web of black veins that crawl instantly over his cheek, flooding across his other eye like ink poured into a wound. The sound it makes is wrong, wet and sharp, and it echoes through me like it’s happening inside my own skull. It was meant for me. Every part of me knows that with terrible clarity and the wraith screams. The sound rips out of it just as violently as it rips out my heart, a howl so full of fury and grief that the air shudders in response. The ground cracks beneath our feet. The shadows lash outward, wild and uncontrolled, tearing through soldiers, trees, and earth itself. My chest feels like it’s being torn in half. The bond burns, white-hot and unbearable, pain and terror and guilt colliding all at once, so overwhelming I can barely stay upright. I stagger forward as Cage’s body crumples, dropping hard to the ground, limbs folding wrong, breath shuddering once, sharply.

“No, no, no-” I choke, falling to my knees beside him.

I’m vaguely aware of movement around us. Kael’s snarl rips through the air as he tears into anything that comes too close, feral and vicious. Evander lands hard nearby, fire flaring as he clears space with brutal precision. Rhaziel’s shadows coil tight, forming a living barrier, demons moving in perfect sync to slaughter anything foolish enough to approach. Cassian is there too, anchoring me, shouting my name, pouring calming thoughts into my mind, but they slide off the screaming chaos inside me. None of it matters. Nothing matters. Except Cage. This asshole who threw himself in front of death before we even had a chance to resolve our problems. My wraith gathers him up instinctively, shadows wrapping around his body with a gentleness that feels wrong coming from something so monstrous. It cradles him against my chest like it knows he’s fragile now, like it knows he broke himself for me, I collapse over him, hands shaking as I press them to his chest, to his face, anywhere I can touch him, anywhere that proves he’s still here.

“Stay with me,” I beg, the words tearing out of my throat. “Please, stay with me.”

His breathing is shallow, ragged, every inhale a fight. His one eye stays fixed on me, wide and terrified, but soft too, unbearably soft. He lifts his hand. The movement is weak, shaky, like it costs him everything. His fingers brush my cheek, then cup my face, warm and trembling, thumb smearing blood and shadow across my skin. I lean into the touch without thinking, desperate for it, like I can anchor him here if I just hold him hard enough. He manages a half-smile and it breaks me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice barely there. “My little stray.”

1/3

20:34 Thu, Jan 15

It Was Meant for Me

The name hits something deep inside my chest, something fragile and raw.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t a better man for you.”

“No,” I sob, shaking my head violently. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that.”

His hand slips just a little. I grab it, clutching it to my chest, pressing my forehead to his, tears streaming down my face, my wraith

curling tighter around us like it’s trying to shield him from what’s already inside him.

“You saved me,” I whisper. “You hear me? You saved me.”

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