Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 250

Mon, Jan 19

Thornhill Academy

The Right to Rest

Rhaziel

53

Allison is on the ground. Flat on her back in the middle of the courtyard, soot-streaked stone biting into her shoulders, breath knocked half out of her as a small, shaking body clings to her like a lifeline. Tessa is crying and laughing at the same time, tears streaking through ash on her cheeks, arms locked tight around Allison’s neck as if letting go might undo the last hour entirely.

“You scared me,” the girl sobs, words tumbling over themselves. “You scared me so bad.”

Allison laughs, breathless and hoarse, one hand tangled in Tessa’s hair, the other braced against the ground. “I’m sorry,” she says, and means it in the simple, exhausted way of someone who survived and is only now realising it. “I’m still here.”

Her shoulders tremble. The magic under her skin hums low, contained, but strained.

She had managed to turn her head just enough to ask for a coat a few minutes ago. Cage has finally managed to shrug out of his. He doesn’t look at them. Doesn’t say a word. Just pulls the heavy fabric free with a sharp movement that pulls at his bandages, jaw tightening as pain flashes across his face. He steps forward, flicks the coat once, and tosses it down over Allison and Tessa in a rough motion. It lands across their shoulders, half covering Tessa’s behind, but not nearly enough that any of us are comfortable looking at them properly. Cage is already turning away by the time Allison looks up at him, surprise softening her expression.

“Thanks,” she says quietly.

He lifts a hand in a vague, dismissive gesture without turning around, gaze fixed on the far edge of the courtyard where soldiers are being disarmed and regrouped. His posture is rigid, held together by stubbornness, adrenaline, and very little else. A ripple of shadow blooms at the edge of the space, tight and hurried, and Rynor stumbles out of it mid-step like he’s been thrown forward by his own momentum. He straightens instantly when he sees the girls on the ground, relief hitting him so hard it nearly drops him to his knees.

“Tessa,” he says, breathless. “Gods above, I-”

His gaze flicks to Allison, then to the coat, then back to his mate. He bows deeply, hand pressed to his chest. “My apologies,” he says, voice tight. “She’s faster than she looks.”

Tessa grumbles something muffled into Allison’s collarbone but lets Rynor pulpher gently upright! He wraps the coat properly around her shoulders, hands careful and reverent as he steps back, keeping her close at his side. Allison pushes herself upright with a grunt, knees protesting. I’m already there when she wobbles, tail wrapping around her waist, hand settling between her shoulder blades to steady her. She leans into the contact without hesitation. The bond hums, low and heavy, threaded with fatigue now that the danger has passed. Around us, the courtyard continues to breathe itself back into order. Vale is issuing quiet instructions, her authority unquestioned. Faction leaders cluster and disperse, already arguing logistics, borders and responsibility. The Council’s former soldiers kneel in small, silent groups, weapons stacked neatly at their feet. Allison’s gaze drifts over them, thoughtfully. I tighten my grip slightly, grounding her.

“That’s enough for today,” I say.

The words are not loud because they don’t need to be. Vale turns to me, sensing the shift. Then Kael. Then the others, conversation dying down as attention gathers.

Allison blinks, looking up at me. “I’m fine,” she starts.

“No,” I reply calmly. “You’re upright.”

Her mouth opens, then closes. She exhales slowly, the fight bleeding out of her posture as reality settles in.

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14:31 Mon, Jan 19

The Right to Rest

53

“My queen needs rest,” say, turning my gaze outward now, letting it settle over the courtyard, the factions, the aftermath. “Not decisions. Not celebrations.

Not another demand on her strength tonight.”

Kael opens his mouth, a familiar spark of humour lighting his eyes. “Queen and conquests-”

I look at him. Just look.

He clears his throat. “Right. Rest. Queen. Yep.”

Vale steps closer, studying Allison again with sharper focus now that the adrenaline has faded. “Go,” she says without argument. “We’ll handle this.”

“I’ll return,” I tell her. “When she’s recovered.”

Vale nods once. “We’ll keep things from burning down until then.”

Kael and Evander turn as their parents step forward from the edge of the courtyard, relief written plainly across their faces. Words are exchanged quickly.

Thanks given without flourish. Promises made in the way warriors make them, brief and sincere,

Tessa clings to Allison for one last moment before Rynor gently draws her back. “You’re not allowed to try and die again,” she mutters fiercely.

Allison smiles tiredly. “Deal.”

When it’s done, when the noise has settled into something manageable, I.gather them close. Shadows fold inward, cool and controlled, wrapping around our group with familiar precision. The courtyard blurs, voices stretching thin, and then the world folds cleanly away. The Shadow Realm receives us with silence. Stone stairs rise ahead, broad and solid, lit by a soft, ambient glow that doesn’t sting the eyes. The air is cool and steady, free of smoke, blood, and panic. Allison sways as the last of the travel settles, but I don’t let her fall. My tail tightens around her waist, anchoring her to me as my hand presses more firmly to her back. She exhales, weight leaning into my hold, and I adjust without comment.

“This way,” I say quietly.

We start up the stairs. The climb is slow. Allison takes each step carefully, boots scuffing stone, her breathing measured. I stay close, matching her pace exactly, my presence a constant brace at her back. No one speaks. Not even Kael. By the time we reach the upper landing, her exhaustion is no longer subtle. Her shoulders sag, her magic settles into something quiet and heavy, no longer straining against its limits. I guide her forward, keeping her upright and moving. She makes it up the last step on stubborn will alone, and as the doors close behind us, I decide nothing will touch her again without going through

me first.

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2/2

14:31 Mon, Jan 19

Thornhill Academy

To Family

Allison

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Kael makes it three steps into Rhaziel’s quarters before he collapses face-first onto the bed like a man struck down by divine intervention.

“Oh my gods,” he groans into the mattress, voice muffled.. “It’s fluffy. It’s actually fluffy.”

Rhaziel stops just inside the doorway, takes in the sprawl of hellhound limbs and soot-streaked clothing sinking into pristine bedding, and lets out a low, unimpressed grunt.

“No blood on the bed.”

Kael lifts his head an inch, considers this, then rolls dramatically off the side and hits the floor with a dull thud.

“Fine,” he says, staring up at the ceiling. “Can I bleed here, then?”

53

Rhaziel does not answer him. His attention has already shifted to me. A broad hand settles at my back, warm and steady, guiding me forward with quiet

certainty. The room itself looks just like it did the last time I was here. All dark stone and high ceilings, carved lines softened by layered rugs and heavy

furniture meant to withstand claws, horns, and tempers. He steers me toward a wide archway set into the far wall, where the bathroom is. The shower alone

takes up half the space, a carved basin of dark stone with multiple water lines set high and low, clearly designed for bodies larger and less human than

mine. Steam curls lazily from the fixtures as Rhaziel reaches out and turns the water on, the sound filling the room in a deep, steady rush. I watch him for a

second, still trying to convince my muscles they’re owed to stand down.

He walks back toward the bedroom doorway, points once at the cascade of water, and says, simply, “In.”

Kael pops up on one elbow from the floor. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Evander laughs under his breath and moves toward me, hands gentle as he helps shrug the coat from my shoulders. The fabric slides away, heavy with

borrowed warmth, and for a moment I feel oddly exposed without it.

“You okay?” he asks quietly, already guiding me forward.

“Yeah,” I say, though my legs wobble as the steam hits my face. “Just… tired.”

He nods like that explains everything, which it does,

Behind us, I hear Cassian’s voice, hesitant in a way I’m not used to from him. “Uh. Is there.., perhaps another room we could—”

Rhaziel steps out of the bathroom, intercepting him with a subtle shift of his body, I don’t hear what’s said, only the low murmur of voices and the sense of distance opening where closeness had been. Cassian and Cage move away, their presence receding down a corridor I can’t see. Something tugs uncomfortably at my chest at that. A small, irrational ache I don’t have the energy to untangle. Evander helps me step into the shower, the stone warm under my bare feet. The water hits my shoulders, and I hiss softly as heat and pressure collide with my skin. It takes a few seconds before my breathing evens out and my hands

unclench.

Kael joins us without ceremony, stepping straight under the water with a groan of relief. “I’m never leaving,” he declares. “This is my home now.”

Rhaziel steps in last, the space adjusting effortlessly to accommodate him. The water beads and runs over his horns and down his body, steam clinging to him like breath. He reaches for me without looking, one arm curling securely around my waist, anchoring me in place. I lean back into him, exhaustion finally winning and I bask in the way his tail slides up and over every inch of me. We wash; that’s it, nothing elaborate, just hands and water and the quiet aftermath of people who have been through battle. Soot, blood, dirt and grime spiral down the drain. The red tinge of blood eventually thins and vanishes.

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14:31 Mon, Jan 19

To Family

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