Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 238

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Go. The word lodges in my skull like a blade. They’re leaving. The thought detonates something deep and instinctive. Shadows explode outward, slamming into the bars hard enough to make the metal sing. A scream tears out of my throat, wrong and layered, echoing with voices that aren’t mine.

Cassian

I’m on my feet instantly.

“Allison,” I say, sharp but careful. “Hey. Look at me.”

Her eyes find mine, black-veined and burning, recognition flickering beneath the hunger. For half a heartbeat, the monster stutters. Then the wraith snarls again.

***

Allison

I don’t want them to go. Not because I need comfort or because I’m afraid to be alone. But if they leave, I don’t know if I’ll stay caged.

The thought is cold and terrifying. I can feel the edges of the cage. I can feel the rules it’s enforcing. I can feel how badly the thing inside

me wants to test them when no one’s watching. They need to stay. I need them here. I try to say it but what comes out is a growl that

rattles stone. My claws rake the bars instead, sparks of shadow skittering across metal as frustration coils tighter and tighter in my chest.

They think I’m lashing out. I’m not. I’m trying to warn them.

***

Cassian

I press both hands flat against the table, grounding myself. I force my breathing to slow, even as the pressure in my skull builds.

“She knows,” I say suddenly.

Everyone looks at me,

“She understands what we’re saying,” I continue. “She’s following the plan.”

Kael snorts. “Yeah? Because it looks like she’s planning to eat us.”

“I’m serious,” I snap, then exhale sharply. “She’s still in there. I can feel her. And if she’s reacting this hard to the idea of us leaving, it’s

not panic.”

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Don’t Leave Me

Rhaziel’s gaze sharpens. “Then what is it?”

I close my eyes for a split second and deliberately open myself to the bond. Pain lances behind my eyes instantly, sharp and punishing, but beneath it-Warmth. Faint. Strained. Wrapped in static and hunger.

Cass…

The sound is music through my mind, spoken through clenched teeth and force.

Don’t…

My breath catches.

Leave me.

The words drag through me like glass.

I’m not safe.

I suck in a breath and look up, eyes blazing.

“She’s warning us,” I say hoarsely. “She’s admitting she’s a danger if we leave.”

Silence crashes down around the table.

Kael scrubs a hand down his face. “Fuck. Yeah. That tracks.”

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Evander’s jaw tightens. “If she’s telling us that, we can’t leave her here alone.”

“We also can’t let her out like this,” Kael says, glancing toward the cage as Allison prowls the perimeter, shadows snapping at the bars. “No offense, baby, but you’d eat a village.”

Allison snarls.

Kael winces. “Sorry, but you probably would, and you know it.”

Rhaziel straightens slowly, shadows drawing in around him with deliberate control.

“There is another option,” he says.

Everyone turns towards him.

“There are smaller containment structures within my realm,” Rhaziel continues evenly. “Designed to move. They were never meant for something of her magnitude, but they can be reinforced.”

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20:36 Thu, Jan 15

Don’t Leave Me

I frown. “Reinforced how?”

“With anchors,” Rhaziel replies.

His gaze slides to us.

:

“To you.”

Understanding ripples through the room in a slow, heavy wave.

“The marks,” Evander murmurs.

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Rhaziel nods once. “They allow the shadows to recognise you. If you anchor the cage together, she can be moved without being released.”

I step closer to the bars carefully.

“Allison,” I say softly. “We’re not leaving you.”

Her shadows hesitate. For the first time since the cage closed, something warm pushes back through the bond.

Take me with you.

It’s not a plea but a warning. Even in this state, she’s trying to protect everyone from herself. I swallow hard and nod once.

“We will,” I promise.

And on the other side of the bars, the monster wearing Allison’s face smiles, just a little, before her shadows coil tight again, waiting.

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4/4

20:36 Thu, Jan 15

Thornhill Academy

Before She Adapts

Cassian

:

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We do not argue about it. There isn’t time, and there isn’t room for sentiment when Allison is pacing the perimeter of the cage like a loaded weapon that hasn’t learned how to wait. Rhaziel summons a demon to retrieve the second containment structure from the far end of the chamber. It’s dragged out of the shadows and placed onto the stone floor with a sound like iron teeth biting into bone. Every bar of this smaller, denser cage features etched, layered runes that don’t glow or shimmer. They absorb. They drink magic in the same way a sponge drinks blood, quietly and without excess. I catalogue it automatically. The density of the metal. The distance between bars. The way the shadows cling to it more tightly than they do to the walls. This isn’t meant for comfort or longevity. This is a transport solution. Temporary, brutal but effective. Allison stops pacing. She turns slowly, eyes tracking the structure with immediate comprehension. Her shadows surge outward, striking the bars of the current cage hard enough to ring through the chamber. Stone dust shakes loose from the ceiling. The sound sets my nerves on edge. She knows exactly what we are about to do.

“No,” she snarls.

The word is distorted, layered with something that doesn’t belong to a human throat. It carries through the room like a warning shot.

Kael swears under his breath. Evander shifts his stance, muscles tightening, fire bleeding faintly under his skin. Rhaziel remains still, but the shadows around him coil closer, attentive. I step forward before anyone else can.

“Allison,” I say, keeping my voice level. I do not raise it, nor do I soften it. “We’re moving you. Not leaving you.”

She lunges for the bars, claws raking metal, sparks snapping as her shadows lash outward. One strikes close enough that I feel the pressure shift against my chest.

“You’re shrinking me,” she spits.

The accusation is sharp and precise. It lands exactly where she intends.

“No,” I reply. “We’re taking you with us.”

Her laugh is ugly. Not hysterical, but calculated. The sound of something that understands restraint and resents it. Rhaziel lifts one hand. The shadows that have clung to each of us since his mark answers immediately, peeling away from skin and bone to draw around the smaller cage. They weave together in deliberate layers, tightening their grip as they sink into the bars, the floor beneath and the air above. I feel the pull in my chest as my own shadows lock in, joining the others, anchoring the structure to us instead of the realm. The cage hums once, low and contained, as the hold seals.

“We do this now,” he says. “Before she adapts.”

I don’t like the way he says that, because he’s right.

I move closer to the original cage, ignoring the way Allison’s shadows test the bars near me, tasting, probing. I keep my palms open and

visible.

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20:36 Thu, Jan 15

Before She Adapts

1

“Allison,” I say again. “Look at me.”

:

She does. For half a second, the hunger falters and recognition flashes. The bond tightens, sharp enough to steal breath.

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