Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 255

Thornhill Academy

Shared Space

Cassian

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I wake to weight. It presses low across my waist, warm and solid, heavy enough that my body registers it before my mind does. Instinct flares, sharp and immediate, a soldier’s reflex that drags me halfway out of sleep before reason can catch up. My breath stutters once as my muscles tense, ready to react. Then awareness settles in. It’s Rhaziel’s tail. It’s looped around me with unbothered certainty, the end resting against my hip…. Heat seeps through the fabric of my trousers, not unpleasant, just persistent and entirely too present. I still for a few seconds, listening to the rhythm of the room and the slow rise and fall of breathing around me. Then I move carefully, sliding two fingers beneath the curve of the tail and easing it aside the way one might negotiate with a very large, very sentient creature that could absolutely choose violence if offended. The tail tightens slightly. Enough that my spine stiffens and my breath pauses halfway in. I freeze, and I lift my gaze to find that Rhaziel is awake He lies on his side, head propped on one arm, watching me with open amusement. His eyes glow faintly in the low light, and the corner of his mouth curves as if he’s been anticipating this exact moment since the instant I drifted too close in my sleep.

“You were trying to cuddle,” he whispers. His voice is low, but I catch the hint of restrained laughter.

“I did no such thing,” I mutter, already sitting up, extracting myself from the tails loop with more urgency than grace. He laughs outright now. The sound vibrates faintly through the bedframe and into my bones. It carries none of the sharpness I associate with demon kings or battlefield commands. It sounds…

normal. Human-adjacent, at least. The movement wakes Kael.

“Is anyone dying?” he groans into the pillows, voice rough with sleep and disinterest. “Because if not, I’m not participating.”

“No one is dying,” Rhaziel replies easily, still watching me.

“Cool.”

Kael rolls over without opening his eyes, drags a blanket higher over his head, and is snoring again within seconds. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand slowly, testing my balance as the last remnants of sleep peel away. My muscles protest in quiet, manageable ways. The ache in my shoulders, the stiffness in my back, the dull throb in my calves all speak the same truth. I survived. I tug my shirt on, fingers lingering briefly at the hem as I straighten it. My hands feel steady; that alone is worth noting. I catch Rhaziel’s gaze once mont before turning away. He rises with far less ceremony, stretching once like a creature entirely at home in his own skin, then follows me toward the bathroom. We move around each other with surprising ease for two people who, by all logic, should still be negotiating boundaries, territory, and space. The bathrooth is quiet and cool. Water runs softly somewhere deep in the walls as I brace my hands on the basin and splash my face. When I look up, my reflection meets me without hesitation. The lines of exhaustion remain. The weight of everything we’ve done still sits heavily in my chest. But the man staring back at me looks present and awake. That’s enough. By the time we head downstairs, the scent of food has already wafted through the corridors. My stomach tightens in response, hunger surfacing with sudden clarity. The kitchen is exactly where I expected it to be, and Evander stands at the stove, bare feet planted on stone and shoulders relaxed. Steam rises around him, carrying the scent of butter and heat. There’s a faint hum under his breath, something content and old, a rhythm that speaks of routine rather than urgency. Allison sits at the bench, wrapped in a soft fabric that hangs loosely from her shoulders. Her hair is a mess, curling and tangling in ways that suggest sleep rather than distress. Her eyes are brighter than they were last night, still tired but alive. Cage sits beside her.

That alone gives me pause. He isn’t rigid or braced like a man waiting for judgment or punishment. He’s eating casually, one arm resting on the counter, posture loose, attention split between the plate in front of him and Allison at his side. I didn’t think he knew how to occupy a space without guarding it.

Evander glances up and smiles when he sees us. “Morning.”

He sets down two plates, one beside Allison and one beside Cage. Rhaziel slows Half a step behind me and lets me go first. I take the seat beside Allison without thinking. She looks up at me and smiles, small but genuine, the express softening the sharp edges of her fatigue.

“Morning, sweetheart,” I murmur, leaning in to kiss her temple.

She hums softly and leans into it, her shoulder brushing mine. The bond answers with a warm, steady pull that settles something deep and restless inside my chest. Rhaziel follows, pressing a brief kiss to her other cheek before taking the seat beside Cage. Cage flicks a glance at him, then back to the table.

“Where’s the mouthy menace?” he asks.

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18:52 Fri, Jan 23 DGG.

Shared Space

Evander laughs, flipping another pancake. “Kael? We probably won’t see him unt, lunch.”

1 frown slightly. “We should wake him; we have things to sort out today.”

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Allison smiles into her cup. “I’ll do it soon.”

There’s something about the way she says it that makes Evander grin and Cage sport, tension bleeding out of the space in small, quiet increments. We eat in companionable quiet for a few minutes. Plates scrape softly, and cups clink. The food is good, and my body accepts it with more gratitude than I expected. I watch Cage from the corner of my eye. He’s still guarded in a sense, still sharp, but the edges aren’t drawn as tight. He listens more than he speaks and doesn’t flinch when Rhaziel shifts beside him. When Allison laughs softly at something Evander says, Cage’s mouth twitches before he can stop it. It’s

progress. Eventually, I set my fork down.

“We should start thinking about next steps,” I say calmly. “Varyn won’t stay hidden forever.”

Rhaziel nods once. and Evander’s expression sobers, while Cage’s jaw tightens, hi gaze dropping briefly to the table.

Allison exhales slowly, then nods. “After breakfast,” she says. “And after I wake Kael.”

She takes one last sip of her drink, and then she slides off her stool.

“Okay.” She sighs. “But this is the last villain we’re fighting for the year. I’m going to make all of you promise me that.”

I watch her leave, feeling the room subtly recalibrate in her absence. The bond stretches, not uncomfortably, just enough to remind me she’s moving away. Rhaziel’s gaze follows her for a moment longer before returning to the table.

“Eat,” he says quietly. “Plans can wait ten minutes.”

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