Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 38

The Truth.

A 74.

neck, a restless habit, and I let out a low breath. I was late now. Evander’s mind still lingered with me. Those flashes I’d pulled, blood, claws, the word mate echoing so loudly it had nearly drowned out his other thoughts. Dangerous, confusing, impossible. I adjusted my cuffs, squared my shoulders, and turned down the hall. I had a class to get to, yes, but more importantly, I had a student to watch very closely. If Evander’s memories were any hint, Allison Rivers would be a complete mess today. If she was even upright and not still lying in

the infirmary.

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love the book so far! goddess of the underworld was fantastic and this one has me just as hooked

thank you for being such an amazing writ… More

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12:44 Tue, Dec 30

Thornhill Academy.

Tell Me How.

Allison

800

74

The morning came too early, far too abruptly, with a pounding on my attic door that felt more like someone was trying to break it down

than knock.

“Allison! Open up!”

Groaning, I dragged myself out of bed, every muscle stiff, my back still sore despite the siphoned healing. When I yanked the door open,

Tessa practically fell inside, cheeks flushed, braid half undone.

“You could’ve died yesterday!” she blurted. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

I blinked at her, hair sticking up in every possible direction. “Good morning to you too.”

But the thing about Tessa is that she doesn’t give up. She marched straight into the kitchen, whipped open my enchanted fridge, and made a face. “Empty. Figures. Get dressed, we’re going into town. Breakfast, groceries, the works.”

Which is how I found myself, less than an hour later, sitting in a cozy booth at The Witches Brew while she ordered enough food for three people and I tried to keep my head from sinking into my arms. Over coffee and the world’s largest plate of pancakes, I gave her the short version of yesterday. Not all of it. Definitely not the vents, or the siphoning, or Cage’s little nightmare. Just… the accident, the infirmary, Evander and Kael finding me. Tessa listened with her usual wide eyes and furious little huffs, stabbing her fork into her food like she

wanted to stab Cage’s face instead.

By the time we finished at the grocery shop and loaded half of it into my cupboards and fridge, I actually felt… steady. Almost normal. Which, considering yesterday, was saying something. But that peace didn’t last. Because now I was back in the castle-like halls of the Academy, heading toward the one class I wasn’t sure I wanted to face today: Potions and Alchemy. The corridors smelled faintly of chalk dust and herbs, and my stomach twisted as I slid into a seat near the front. And, of course, Hill was late. I tapped my fingers against the desk, staring at the door, waiting,

The door creaked open, and my head snapped up only to instantly sour. Cage. The asshole himself. He sauntered in like he owned the place, one hand shoved in his pocket, that infuriating smirk fixed to his face. My glare hit him like a thrown dagger. He only sneered back, deliberate and slow, before slouching into a seat two rows over.

Tessa leaned closer, her braid brushing my shoulder. “Holy shit,” she whispered. “That’s one hell of a black eye. Did you do that to him?”

“I wish,” I muttered, a laugh slipping out anyway. My chest tightened, though, if I didn’t do it, who did?

I didn’t get the luxury of dwelling. Because that’s when the de didn’t walk like other professors. He cut through the air. Long

swung wide, sharp and deliberate, and Professor Hill strode in. Hill

coat, silver fastenings gleaming, dark hair falling loose enough to

look careless, but I knew better; nothing about him was careless. A mind reader never was. His sharp grey eyes swept the room once, and the air went taut with the collective shuffle of students straightening in their seats.

1/3

Tell Me How

“Page one hundred and thirty-two,” he said flatly, his voice carrying without effort, “Ingredients list, You’ll need them memorised before the week is out.”

Books thumped open. Pages rifled. Quills scratched. I didn’t move. Not yet. Because Hill’s gaze lingered too long. Right on me. A cold shiver ran up my spine, and I snapped my attention to the grain of the desk as if it might save me. But the weight of his stare was a hand pressing at my skull, probing, searching. Shit. I reached, fast and hard, siphoning his magle before I could second-guess myself, feeling it burn sharp against my ribs. Then I slammed up my mental walls, thicker than stone, faster than instinct. Silence. But my pulse was hammering. Did he get in? Did he see? I risked the smallest glance up. Hill had moved on, eyes sliding across the rest of the room with no hint of what had just happened. His expression was unreadable. Detached. Still, my gut told me different. Because for just one second, just one razor-slice of a moment, his lips had twitched, almost like he’d smirked.

While the rest of the class bent their heads over notes, quills scratching like insect legs, his voice cut clean through the air.

“Rivers,”

I stiffened.

“My office. Now.”

Heads jerked up. A few students gawked, Cage included, his smirk blooming like a bruise across his face. Hill didn’t even look at them. He just extended one arm, sleeve falling back to reveal the faint shimmer of a rune at his wrist, and gestured to the door tucked into the corner of the room. Every muscle in me screamed don’t go. But I stood anyway, because not going would be worse. The small office was dark, its shelves crammed with books, and glass jars glinted with things I didn’t want to name. The moment the door shut behind me, the air shifted. Heavy. Thick. He flicked his hand once, and the space trembled with the low hum of magic, a soundproofing ward locking into place. Then, a click. He locked the door. I swallowed hard. Hill didn’t move from where he stood, back half-lit by the glow of his desk lamp. He just… stared. Storm-grey eyes calculating, stripping, peeling me apart without ever lifting a finger. The silence was a weight. A

deliberate one.

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