Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 48

leaving my scent there. Claim. She huffed back, nosing under my chest again, scenting me like she needed every part memorised. Then she nipped, a sharp playful snap at my shoulder, testing, teasing. Smoke curled from my teeth as I snapped back, catching only the edge of her scales, enough to spark her eyes brighter. We circled again, rubbing down flanks, necks, tails brushing, until every inch of her carried me and every inch of me carried her. My dragon was thrumming, purring, pressing into her like the world itself had finally righted. For one dizzying heartbeat, I forgot the council, the festival, the rules. Forgot everything but her, the golden heat of her scales under mine, the sound of her low growl vibrating through the earth, the way her wings stretched wide like she was testing the sky for the first time. She was mine. Not the way the laws said. Not the way fate usually revealed. This was older, wilder and absolute. And as she curled her massive body around mine, laying her head against my chest, my dragon rumbled one word again, with a certainty that burned hotter than fire itself. Mate. And now I was sure, I didn’t doubt it, not one bit, this right here was my fate given, goddess blessed, mate.

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12:47 Tue, Dec 30

Thornhill Academy.

Accidentally Shifted.

Allison

:..

73

I had only meant to take a little of his power. Enough to land a punch he’d actually feel, enough to stop the frustration churning in my gut. But the rage simmered under my skin like molten metal, and I took more. More than I should have. And then, without even thinking,

without even knowing what I was doing, something…happened. My body overheated. Everything burned. My whole world cracked open. It

felt like my bones were tearing and stretching all at once, my blood thick with something that wasn’t mine but had always been waiting.

And right there, in the middle of the field, I realised I was shifting. Unlocking a second part of a shifter’s power, I had never dared to

touch. Evander did what I asked. He didn’t hesitate. He got me away, into the trees, deeper, faster, until no one could see us. And as soon

as we were alone, I let the pain thrum through my body, let it do whatever it wanted, let it consume me whole.

And then there was a voice. Soft and low, inside my mind. Hello, my human.

I froze even as my skin split and reshaped, even as claws slid where fingers had been. I had just unlocked my own dragon. But that wasn’t

the only thing. Because as she looked down upon Evander and inhaled his scent, she spoke to both of us. Mate.

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even a declaration. It was an ancient recognition, something older than the council’s wards and the festival’s rituals. I watched from the passenger seat of my own body as Evander shifted, scales rippling into existence, wings opening

wide. And then our dragons collided, not in battle, but in a way that felt like a thousand memories I never had, all snapping back into

place at once. We circled. We breathed each other in. And something inside my soul slid into place, like a key turning in a lock. I have a mate. Although this is not how it’s supposed to be done, although it breaks every rule they drilled into me at Thornhill, I had no doubts.

He is mine. And I am his.

Ready to fly, little one? Her voice is velvet and thunder in my mind, curling around my thoughts like smoke. My dragon. My other half. My pulse kicks, but before I can even shape a reply, she’s moving, wings snapping wide, sunlight spilling off golden membranes. The first downward beat is a jolt. Air rushes against our face, our claws slip against the moss as we lurch forward. We stumble, stutter, wings grabbing at the sky like a fledgling learning how to breathe. My heart slams so hard it rattles my ribs. We’re flying. I’m flying. Below us, Evander’s dragon rises. A blaze of bronze-gold, a living sun under our shadow. He doesn’t climb straight up; he slides beneath us, enormous wings steady and patient, and nudges our body higher with a current of air. Protective. Solid. Teaching without a word. He soars in front of us, rolling into an easy glide, his massive wings angling just so. Instinctively, my dragon tilts her own, mimicking the motion, the awkward judder of our flight smoothing into something more like a rhythm-a heartbeat in the wind.

There we go, she murmurs inside my skull, equal parts pride and hunger. We watch him. We Learn. We are meant for this.

Evander banks left, dipping his wingtip toward a column of warm air rising from the trees, and we follow. The current catches us, lifting us higher. Another beat of our wings and the ground shrinks; another, and the clouds are close enough to touch. For a breathless, impossible moment, there’s nothing but sky, his dragon ahead of us like a living beacon, and the wild, fierce joy of my own power answering his.

When we finally descend, I’m laughing in my head, loud, wild, uncontained. Happy, Free. The wind still clings to our scales like a second skin, and I understand, in a way I never had before, why shifters are so full of themselves. Flight isn’t just power. It’s joy. It’s the world opening under you and daring you to fall. Our landing, however, was less than graceful. My massive dragon body barrels through the last stretch of trees, claws scraping earth, wings folding at the wrong angle. We tumble into the dirt with a graceless thud that rattles my teeth and skid to a stop against a tree trunk. Bark cracks. Leaves scatter. My dragon huffs out a plume of smoke and then starts to purr.

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12:47 Tue, Dec 30

Accidentally Shifted.