Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 244

Thornhill Academy

Feeding Ground

Allison

We run. The cage lurches forward with the rhythm of boots and shadows. The bars are humming as Rhaziel’s darkness locks itself around the frame, bracing, correcting, keeping me from slamming bone-first into steel every time we turn a corner too sharply. The motion sends a pulse through my skull, making the world wobble. Dark magic presses in from every surface, from the walls and floor and ceiling and the space between breaths, a low-pressure system that crawls under my skin and sets my teeth on edge. My body answers it before my mind can catch up, a sound tearing out of my throat that lives somewhere between a growl and a snarl. Something is close. I feel it in the way the air tightens, in the way the hunger inside me lifts its head and leans forward, curious and sharp and eager. There is no shape to it yet, no name, no direction, only the certainty that prey is nearby. My hands flex around the bars, nails scraping metal, the runes drinking greedily at the static bleeding off my skin, and I shake with the effort of staying folded inside myself while the shadows carry me forward. Someone shouts, and the sound slices through the pressure. The corridor explodes into motion as the first strike comes from behind, a surge of power that snaps against Evander like a wave against rock, and I feel the counter before I see it, the way Kael’s energy flares hot and wild, a laugh punching out of him as he pivots and meets it head-on. Fire crashes into the enchantment thrown at us, raw hellhound heat chewing through carefully layered spells as Kael barrels straight through the space the Councilor thought was safe. Claws and teeth and sheer momentum, tearing the man apart in a blur of heat and red and broken wards. We keep moving.

The building screams in silence, a pressure wave rolling through the ring as sigils light and die and light again, recalibrating, and another presence peels out of the architecture itself. A Council member stepping sideways through a folded seam in the wall with a blade of condensed magic already aimed for Cage’s spine. Evander doesn’t even turn fully, his hand lifting in a precise arc as the air hardens and burns out the attack. His power is clean and surgical in the way it takes out both the spell and the man casting it in the same elegant motion. The Councilor burns without ceremony, magic unravelling like silk cut from a loom, and Evander steps over the body without breaking stride, eyes already scanning for the next threat-my head throbs.

The cage vibrates as the building tries something new, a silence field blooming outward that presses against my ears and crawls into my skull. The hunger inside me surges, furious at the deprivation, slamming against the runes until my vision goes white at the edges. Cassian’s voice cuts through the static, then, low and controlled, a single line pushing into my mind through the bond, steadying me just enough to keep my body from tearing itself apart on the bars. I’m still here, Sweetheart.

Another Council member lunges out of a collapsing corridor with something like vampiric speed. Cassian meets her in the space between breaths, his movements economical and ruthless. He turns and takes her out with an invisible pressure that stops her from breathing. It’s a beautiful motion that leaves the corridor slick and quiet. That’s four down, as still none for me..

The building tightens again, walls sliding closer, doors sealing and unsealing in rapid sequence as it tries to funnel us into a kill zone. Cage growls somewhere ahead of me, a sound pulled raw from his chest as another Councilor steps into his path, power blazing bright enough to make my eyes water even through the bars. Cage moves like a man who has already decided the cost, taking the hit across his shoulder and driving forward anyway. His magic slamming into his opponent in a brutal, physical wave that fractures wards and bodies alike. The Councilor collapses under the force of it as Cage staggers once and keeps going, teeth clenched, blood hot along his arm.

The hunger inside me paces, restless, furious at being denied, and then the air shifts in a way that feels personal, a tremendous, calculated pressure sliding along my skin like a caress. Lyssa Thane steps into view with the confidence of someone who believes herself untouchable. Midnight blue robes immaculate, eyes sharp and assessing as she takes in the cage and the shadows and me. Her magic feels wrong, layered and clever and oily, enchantments braided tight around her words as she reaches for the bars with a smile. She is close enough now that can smell her, ink and cold metal and the faint tang of fear she doesn’t know she’s leaking. Something in me snaps to attention with a clarity that cuts through the noise. She thinks she can unlock my cage. Her fingers brush the runes, power pouring out of her in controlled streams meant to override and command, and I lunge. My hands punch through the gap between the bars, fingers locking around her throat with bone-deep certainty as her eyes go wide and her spell shatters against my skin. The magic slides straight into me like water into sand. I drink it greedily, feel it tear itself apart inside my veins the hunger surges and feeds, my grip tightening as she claws at my wrists, her enchantments dissolving into nothing under the pressure of my siphon. She tries to speak, but I squeeze tighter. Her magic keeps coming, frantic now, everything she has flooding into me in a last, desperate attempt to break free. I swallow it all, the power burning and singing and settling into the dark mass coiled in my core. Her body goes slack in my hands, the fight draining out of her in a rush, and I release her with a sharp shove that sends her crumpling to the floor at the base of the cage, eyes staring, magic gone. Silence crashes in around us, heavy and absolute as my vision goes fuzzy, drunk off the power she let slip through my bars. The dark magic devours it, loves it, wants more of it. The shadows tighten their grip on the cage as we surge forward again, the building reeling from the sudden absence of its masters. I sag back against the bars, chest heaving, the hunger inside me purring with vicious satisfaction. The bond hums with the echo of my mates’ presence, fierce and unbroken, and somewhere beneath the corruption, the static, and the blood on

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14:26 Mon, Jan 19

Feeding Ground

my hands, a small, steady spark of me watches the bodies recede behind us and understands exactly what we’ve done. The Council is falling… And the

building knows it.

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