Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 25

Fighting For Life.

I threw myself sideways, boots skidding in the mud, claws ripping the air where my chest had been a heartbeat ago. My back slammed into a tree, and panic

clawed at me, white–hot and choking.

Move, Allison. Don’t freeze.

The siphon in me stirred, alive and restless. Not just Hill’s sharp, storm–bright thread of power. No, underneath that, the other voices. The bits I’d stolen

through the vents the night before, I reached for them. Fire, bright and hot, licked through my veins, setting every nerve alight. A spark caught in my palm,

and when the beast lunged again, I flung it forward. Flames roared, licking up its chest, burning patches of rotten fur to cinder. It screeched, staggering

back. Another thread answered, colder, slicker. Water surged at my feet, pulling from the damp earth, coiling into a whip that snapped across its face. Its

antlers cracked against a tree with a bone–shattering thud. The beast stumbled, but it didn’t fall. It shook itself like a dog, crimson eyes blazing brighter,

drool hissing as it hit the ground. I grit my teeth and pulled harder. A third spark. Wind this time, sharp and wild, whipping my wet hair into my face as it

circled me like a shield. The beast leapt, and the gale shoved it sideways midair, slamming it into the dirt. I staggered, the rush burning hot, too much, too

fast. Too many flavours at once, fire, water, wind, my veins screamed with the strain. But I couldn’t stop. Not with its eyes still glowing in the dark. One last

thread. Heavy. Solid. Like stone itself. I seized it, muscles locking tight, and slammed my fist into the ground. The earth bucked beneath us, roots ripping

free to coil around its legs, dragging it down. The beast thrashed, snarled, snapped its rotten jaws, but the fire still burned its chest, the water soaked its fur,

the wind shoved it down, and the earth held it fast. I stood trembling, teeth gritted, every nerve raw. My arms shook with the effort of holding four stolen

powers at once.

“Stay down,” I growled.

Then I pushed, pulling all the threads together into one brutal surge. Light cracked across the forest floor like lightning. The beast convulsed once, twice,

then shattered into a pile of smouldering ash and bone. Silence fell, thick and sudden. My knees nearly gave out. I pressed a hand to the tree beside me,

chest heaving, sweat mixing with the river water still plastering my clothes to my skin. My body felt hollow, carved out, like the magic had gutted me from

the inside.

I shoved off the tree, every muscle screaming. My boots squelched, heavy with water and muck, and I forced one step, then another. I didn’t dare look back.

My clothes clung like ice, plastered to my skin, every movement chafing. Mud streaked my legs, my arms. My fingers trembled with every twitch, the memory

of fire and wind and stone still sparking through my veins. And my back…gods, my back. Something warm slid down beneath the soaked fabric. I didn’t want

to think about it too hard, but deep down I knew. That’s blood. Probably mine.

“Fucking great,” I muttered hoarsely, voice shredded raw.

Branches tore at my arms, snagged my hair. Roots caught at my boots like they wanted me to stay down. But I kept pushing forward, teeth gritting, eyes searching desperately for the faint glow of another rune. The forest had tried to kill me. Cage had tried to kill me. And yet here I was. Alive. Barely. Every step hurt. Every breath rattled. My head spun like I was balancing on the beam again. But I wasn’t about to let this place win.

Evander.

The course wasn’t built for me. Not really. Woods, runes, and obstacles meant to trip and test were on the ground, making it a challenge. In the sky, it was

child’s play. My dragon tore through the trees like wind through smoke, wings skimming branches, claws digging into earth only when the path demanded it.

By the time the others were halfway in, I was already out the other side.

The coach barely looked surprised when my boots hit the finish line. He just clicked his stopwatch, scrawled something on his clipboard, and gave a curt

nod. “Drayke. Fastest time so far. As expected.”

I gave him the barest incline of my head, then moved off the field, dropping into the grass near the edge. The earth was warm under me, the air alive with

the pulse of magic from the course. I didn’t care about praise. Not really. What mattered was what came after. One by one, the others trickled out. Kael,

naturally, bounding through with that damn grin plastered across his face, sweat gleaming on his temples. He soaked in the coach’s scolding and half-

compliment like it was wine. Then more, wolves shaking mud from their coats, a bear shifter lumbering across the line, a girl with sparks still dancing on

her fingertips. Elementals, bruised and panting, but proud. I leaned back on my hands, scanning each face as they came through. Not hers. Not Rivers. I told

MON

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