Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 51

My dragon pressed hard against my ribs, urging me to shield her, to take wing and cover her with our body instead of risking this walk.

Mine. Hide her. Protect.

“Head down, pet,” I muttered, shifting her in my arms until her face was buried against my neck. She resisted for half a heartbeat, then

gave in, her breath warm against my skin. We made it halfway before the boys laughed at something, one of them turning in our direction. My spine went rigid, every muscle ready to shift at the first sign of recognition.

“Shit,” I hissed under my breath, pivoting hard and using my bulk to angle us behind the training racks that lined the field. A wall of

wooden dummies and broken spears shielded us from their line of sight. Her fingers dug into me, tense.

“Evander, if they see-”

“They won’t.” The promise came out like a growl.

I kept moving, fast but silent, boots hitting the dirt with deliberate speed. The change room doors loomed closer, carved oak with the academy crest etched deep. Just a few more steps. The boys’ voices carried again, this time closer. My dragon snarled, and I snapped my head back to see them heading toward the racks. No time. I dropped my shoulder and turned, shielding Ally entirely with my body. I pressed us both tight against the stone wall just shy of the doorway, my pulse hammering.

Her breath hitched against my throat, and she whispered, “They’re going to-”

“They won’t,” I said again, lower this time.

The footsteps passed, slow, careless, the boys still muttering to each other as they veered off toward the far exit. One laughed loudly, the sound bouncing harmlessly away. I didn’t move until I was certain. Then, finally, I exhaled and pulled the door open with my free hand, pushing us inside. The heavy oak slammed shut behind us with a muffled thud, sealing us in the safety of shadow and soap-scented

steam.

Only then did I look down at her. Her cheeks were still flushed, hair wild around her face, chest rising and falling against mine. She looked up, wide-eyed, and whispered, “That was too close.”

I smirked, brushing my thumb across her temple. “Close doesn’t count. You’re safe.”

“Um… you can put me down now.” Her voice was small, uneven, her blush creeping high on her cheeks.

I bent my head and pressed my nose into the curve of her neck. The scent of her hit me like smoke and lightning, wild and intoxicating. My chest rumbled low without my permission.

“Not yet,” I murmured against her skin. “Just… let me hold you a little longer. Please.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment she didn’t move. Her fingers twitched against my chest, not pushing me away. The silence stretched, broken only by the quick rhythm of her pulse fluttering against my lips.

Ours, my dragon whispered, curling around her scent like it was already branded into us. Don’t let her go. Not yet.

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Just A Little Longer.

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I tightened my arms just a fraction, memorising the exact weight of her against me, the warmth, the way her skin hummed faintly with the echo of shared magic. I knew she was tired, raw from the shift, and still wary of me. But gods, it felt right, like I’d been waiting my

entire life for this weight in my arms.

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