Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 55

It isn’t a suggestion. Before I can ask what the hell she means, she’s already slipping out the attic door, silent and sure-footed. My dragon stirs restlessly beneath my skin, sensing the shift in her magic, that pulse of power she hides so well. I crouch lower over the vent, pulse hammering in my throat. Below, Cage still lies in his bed, the smug bastard. He’s sprawled out like the world owes him rest, mouth open,

arm flung over his face, oblivious. Then the air in his room changes.

It thickens, grows heavy and cold, like frost biting through the heat. The candle by his bedside sputters and dies, shadows stretching unnaturally long across the floorboards. My heart kicks against my ribs as I lean closer. A sound, low and wet, rolls through the space. A growl that doesn’t belong to anything human. And then it steps forward-the wraith. I swear under my breath, muscles going rigid as the creature’s shape unfurls from the darkness, long limbs, jagged antlers scraping the ceiling, its body rippling with that same sickly shadow I’d seen in the woods. Except this time, it’s more solid, more alive. Its eyes glow like burning coals as it drags one claw across the

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Not A Delicate Flower.

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floorboards, slow and deliberate, savouring the fear already thick in the air. Cage jerks upright in bed, frozen mid-motion. His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. The wraith tilts its head, that awful, jerking motion like it’s not used to being inside a body and then it

moves. Fast.

It’s on him before he can blink, the shadow of it crawling over his bed, antlers brushing the walls. He tries to scream, but the sound dies

in his throat as invisible claws press against his chest, not piercing, just holding. The wraith’s voice is a whisper of static and rot.

“Do you remember the water, little one?”

Cage’s eyes bulge. He shakes his head violently, trapped somewhere between denial and terror. The wraith laughs, a low, rattling sound that makes even my dragon shift uneasily inside me. The air ripples. The thing’s shape flickers, distorting, one second solid, the next transparent. And every time it flickers, I can feel Allison’s magic through the link, the control, the precision, the power. She’s not just summoning this thing. She is it. The realisation hits me like a punch. Down below, the wraith leans closer, breath misting against Cage’s face. The voice cracks, half hers, half the beast’s. “Now you’ll know what it’s like to beg for air.”

Cage lets out a strangled gasp as shadows coil around his throat, not choking, just enough to make him believe he’s dying. He thrashes, limbs tangled in his sheets, eyes wild. And then, as fast as it appeared, the wraith dissolves, melting into mist, leaving behind nothing but the smell of rot and the sound of Cage’s ragged sobs. Holy shit. She’s…not the delicate little flower I thought she was.

The door creaked open a few minutes later, and she slipped back inside. She paused when she saw me. Her posture stiffened, hands flexing at her sides, like she was waiting for judgment.

I straightened slowly, meeting her wary gaze. “How?” I asked, “How did you do that?”

For a heartbeat, she didn’t answer, just studied me, eyes flickering with that familiar guarded look she wore whenever she thought she’d gone too far. Then she sighed, the tension loosening from her shoulders as she came closer.

“In the woods,” she said quietly, “after I fell… the wraith, it tried to kill me. I killed it first.” Her fingers fidgeted at the hem of her sleeve, eyes distant. “When I did, I took something from it without even meaning to. Its power. Its essence. It’s like… part of it fused with me.”

She looked up, searching my face, and I stepped closer, letting her keep talking.

“When I pull that power up, it materialises through me,” she said. “It’s not really separate anymore. The wraith feeds off fear, right? So when it scares someone, it doesn’t drain me. It regenerates itself. It’s like… It’s alive again, through me.”

I should’ve been disturbed. The idea of something dead and cursed living under her skin should’ve sent alarm bells through every rational part of me. But all I saw was the steady fire in her eyes, the fierce, wild strength that refused to break no matter what the world threw at her. Before she could retreat into herself again, I reached out, hooked a hand behind her neck, and pulled her gently against my chest. Her breath hitched. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, slow and firm.

“That’s pretty fucking badass, Ally,”

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Thornhill Academy.

No Secrets Betweens Friends.

Allison

I pull back from him, heart hammering, and look him dead in the eyes. “Do you really want all of this?” My voice comes out low and serious, no teasing, no armour. Just me, bare and bracing for the answer.

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