Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 227

“You know,” I say hoarsely. “You know how to fix this.”

He shakes his head once, already backing away from me, already bracing.

“No,” he says quietly. “Allison, don’t.”

The word barely leaves his mouth before I reach for his mind. He slams the first wall up instantly, a dense barrier of disciplined thought and warded memory, something he’s built and rebuilt over decades of teaching, surviving, hiding. Normally, I’d respect it. Normally, I’d knock and wait and negotiate. There is no normally left. Grief and fury surge together, tearing through me like wildfire, and I hit his defences head-on. The impact sends a spike of pain through my skull, but I don’t stop. I claw through the first wall, ripping it apart with brute force, shards of his carefully ordered mind splintering under the weight of my power.

“Allison!” he shouts, clutching his head as another barrier snaps into place. “Stop-this isn’t—”

I tear through the second wall. Images flash past me in a violent rush. Dark magic diagrams. Old Council spellwork. Slow-kill enchantments designed to rot from the inside out. I feel his horror layered over the knowledge, the desperate hope that I won’t see the part he’s been trying to shield me from. The third wall goes up thicker, reinforced, laced with restraint and guilt. I rip it down anyway. The answer is there, burning bright and undeniable. The spell inside Cage… I can siphon it. I can… take it. I see it in stark, brutal clarity. The way the dark magic will fight to stay rooted. The way it will tear at me as it’s pulled free. The way it will poison anything it touches. I see the part Cassian didn’t want me to see. I can see what it will cost me, If it doesn’t kill me, it will corrupt me.

I rip myself out of his mind with a snarl, the sudden severing sending Cassian stumbling backward. He cries out, hands flying to his head, blood trickling from his nose as he gasps for breath. He reaches for me, eyes wild with pain and panic.

“Allison-please-”

My wraith reacts before I do. Shadows lash out, slamming into his chest and hurling him back several feet. He hits the ground hard, the air driven from his lungs, and before he can recover, Rhaziel’s darkness is there, coiling around him, holding him still.

“Enough,” Rhaziel growls, low and dangerous.

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I don’t look away from Cage. I don’t look at Cassian again. I crawl back to Cage’s side, my movements slow and reverent, like any sudden

motion might shatter what little time we have left. His breathing is worse now, more shallow, his skin cooling beneath my hands. I brush

my fingers over his cheek, wiping away the blood and shadow streaking his skin. My hand shakes, but I don’t pull it back. I lean down

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