Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 234

I snort, crossing my arms, but there’s no real fight in it, not against him. He’s right, the bastard. My hellhound might match her fire for a round or two, thrashing and biting back, but that corruption? It’d drain me dry, turn me into another shadow on the floor. Still, the loyalty burns fiercely in my gut; I’d throw myself at her feet, let her use me up if it meant pulling even a sliver of our Allison back from

the brink.

‘Fine, Your Majesty,” I say, sarcasm dripping like venom. “But if you need backup, scream. I’ll come running-naked and ready.”

Cassian clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably, his professor brain whirring behind those exhausted eyes. He’s never crossed that line with her, never tasted what the rest of us have, and it shows in the way he avoids her gaze.

“Is this really necessary?” he asks, voice tight, reserved, like he’s dissecting a spell instead of talking about fucking some of the monster

out of our mate.

Evander leans forward, his calm voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “We give her what she needs to be comfortable inside a mind that’s full of dark magic and chaos. If she wants sex, she gets sex.”

Cassian nods slowly, swallowing hard, his face a mask of reluctant acceptance.

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Corrupted Cravings

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“Right. I’ll… I’ll go check on Cage.” He pushes away from the table, excusing himself with a mutter, slipping out the heavy door like he’s fleeing a battlefield. Can’t blame him-Cage is upstairs, still out cold, marked by Rhaziel’s magic to keep the idiot warlock breathing after Allison saved his ass. But this? This is raw, feral territory, and Cassian’s not ready for it.

Rhaziel watches him go, then turns to Evander. “Lock the door after him,” he commands, already moving toward the cell’s entrance. The wards hum as he deactivates them with a flick of his wrist, the bars grinding open just enough for his hulking frame. Evander seals the outer door with a thud that echoes like doom.

Inside, Allison freezes, her head cocking like she’s scenting weakness. Her body’s a lethal curve of pale skin and black veins, naked and unashamed, shadows coiling around her like eager hands.

“My king,” she purrs, voice a warped echo that sends shivers down my spine-half our girl’s warmth, half something that wants to devour

souls.

Rhaziel steps in, the door sealing behind him with a finality that makes my gut twist. He circles her slowly.

“I’m here to give you what you need, my queen,” he rumbles, but there’s steel in it, a readiness that says he knows she’s a threat, even to

him.

She doesn’t wait. With a snarl that rattles my bones, she launches herself, slamming into him like a shadow storm. Claws rake his chest, drawing smoking blood, but he grabs her wrists, pinning them with demonic strength as he shoves her against the bars. She laughs, wild, hungry, twisting against him as her legs hook around his waist, grinding down hard and demanding.

“You think you can control me?” she hisses, shadows lashing out, wrapping his throat in tendrils that squeeze.

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