Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 52

I shifted my bag on my shoulder. “I’d rather not… not with all the people in there.”

I watched his expression dim a little, shoulders dropping like he’d been bracing for that answer. My stomach pinched. I wasn’t trying to push him away, not after everything that had just happened, so I added quickly, “You can come back to my room to eat, though, if you

like,”

The effect was instant. His eyes warmed, the faintest edge of a smile tugging at his mouth. “I’d like that,” he said quietly.

We walked together without touching, careful to leave space between us. The last thing I wanted was a dozen sets of eyes following us up to my attic and turning my sanctuary into gossip fodder. The corridor stretched out ahead of us, muted and echoing with the sounds of lunch being served down the hall. It almost felt normal until I saw him. Cage. He was planted at the base of my attic stairs, arms crossed, looking like a viper waiting to strike. Boredom and Irritation warred on his face until he caught sight of us, and then it twisted into something nastier.

“Well, well, look who finally decided to show up,” he sneered, voice dripping venom. “Where the fuck have you been, stray?”

The word cut, but I’d been expecting it. What I hadn’t been expecting was the low, rumbling growl that vibrated out of Evander beside me. His dragon’s heat rolled off him in a wave, subtle but deadly. Cage’s eyes flicked between us, and his lip curled. “What have you two been doing?” His tone dropped to something ugly. “Are you really such a slut, Rivers? Missing half a class to go and bone a dragon?”

1/2

12:47 Tue, Dec 30

What I Never Thought I Deserved

P:

The air seemed to snap. Evander’s body went rigid, his pupils thinning to slits as he bristled, a growl deepening in his chest like a building storm. He was half a heartbeat away from shifting right here in the hall. I didn’t even think, I just moved. My hand slid onto his arm, fingers pressing against the hard muscle. “Don’t,” I said softly but firmly, looking up at him.

His eyes cut down to mine, molten and wild, and for a second, I wasn’t sure he’d listen. But something in my touch, or my voice, reached him. His jaw flexed, a slow grind, and the growl thinned to a tremor. I kept my palm there, steady. I knew exactly what Evander wanted to do, what I wanted him to do, but if he touched Cage now, if he lost control here, we’d all be in Scorched’s office before the hour was up Cage smirked like he’d won something, but the way Evander’s heat radiated off him said otherwise.

Cage’s eyes slid off Evander and locked onto me. “We have to study,” he snapped, tone cutting, “thanks to you being incompetent and all.”

I folded my arms tight across my chest, lifting my chin. “You’re not coming into my room.”

His laugh was a short, sharp thing. “Like I’d want to be in your filth-infested space anyway. We’ll use the common room.” He turned with all the smug arrogance in the world, already striding down the hall like I’d follow just because he said so.

He got about three steps before he realised Evander was right at my side. Cage’s head jerked back toward us, brows drawing down. “What,

you need a tutor too, golden boy?”

Evander didn’t even flinch. He just let out a low, deliberate huff, a curl of smoke trailing from his nostrils. His voice was rough steel. “I’m not leaving you alone with her.”

For once, Cage didn’t have a comeback ready. His sneer faltered, just slightly, like even he wasn’t stupid enough to press further against a dragon barely holding his temper in check. I stood between them, pulse rattling in my throat. One boy sneering, the other burning, and me in the middle, torn between wanting to slap one and drag the other away before he sets the whole damn corridor on fire.

The common room was too bright, too full of echo. Usually, it hummed with voices, footsteps, and laughter. But right now, with the hour between classes empty, it was just the three of us. Cage slouched into one of the couches like he owned the place, tossing his bag down so hard the books inside thudded.

“Sit,” he ordered. Not asked. Ordered.

My jaw clenched. Every instinct screamed to tell him where he could shove his command. But Evander’s presence at my side was a furnace, too protective, too ready to ignite. I didn’t need another fight breaking out and dragging me to Scorched’s office. So I sat at the opposite end of the couch, my arms crossed tightly.

Comments

16

Write Comments

<SHARE

2/2

12:48 Tue, Dec 30

Thornhill Academy.

Mine To Protect. Mine To Love.

:

73

I stood in the corner like a rock, arms folded, every line in my body strung tight and ready. Cage called it tutoring, but it was a performance, one part correction, three parts sneer. He’d say something, then repeat it louder to watch her flinch. Every time his voice went low and sharp, my dragon pressed against my ribs like a fist. I wanted to step forward and end him with a look, wanted to shift and show him what happens when you push what’s mine. I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not here. Not yet. So I stayed still and watched. Allison kept answering. Quiet. Flat. Like she was holding herself together out of habit. It was a small, stubborn thing; she refused to let him see her break. But the hour wore on, and the way her shoulders sagged, the way her pen trembled, the pale ring under her eyes growing a little deeper each minute, I felt it in my gut like a warning bell.

When she paused mid-sentence, fingers slack on the pen, I felt the shift inside me. Not the dragon this time; something softer, a pull. She was running on fumes.

“That’s enough for tonight,” I said, before I could talk myself into silence. My voice cut through the room, and Cage looked up, irritation flickering across his face like a storm cloud. I kept my tone even. “She needs to rest.”

Cage slammed his book shut, an ugly sound that echoed. “She’s going to need a whole lot more time if she’s expected not to be a complete…” He didn’t finish. He never did finish things in front of me. He knew when the line had been crossed.

“She’s done,” I ground out. My hands tightened into fists at my sides. Standing there, letting him mouth off felt like poison. I was always careful, continuously measured, but I’d watched him push at her for too long. He could snarl and posture all he liked; if he touched her, if he tried to humiliate her in front of anyone, there would be consequences. I didn’t need to say them aloud for him to understand. He threw me a look, part defiance, part calculation. Then, because he wasn’t stupid, because he knew the cost of pushing a dragon, he let the words die. He shoved his bag over his shoulder with a theatrical flourish and left the room, the door banging behind him. As the common room emptied, the weight of the moment dropped off like a cloak, and I finally moved. I crossed the space and knelt beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat in me but not so close she’d feel trapped. Her face had gone slack with exhaustion; the sharp edges of earlier anger were smoothed away by fatigue.

“You okay?” I asked, voice low. I wanted to take her hand, but I held myself back, letting my words be the first touch.

She blinked up at me, a small, almost apologetic smile flickering. “I’m fine. Just tired.” The lie was gentle and useless; I’d been tracking the truth all evening.

“Good,” I said, “Come on, you need to eat and rest.” I rose, keeping my tone casual, the way you keep things that matter from sounding

like orders.