Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 67

Tessa leads me through the noise and bodies with the confidence of someone who belongs here. The further we go, the darker it gets. It’s a cozy, dark, full of laughter, low voices, and flickering candlelight that bends around shadows as if it knows better than to touch them. When she stops, it’s in front of a group tucked into the back corner, definitely demons. Every one of them radiates that slow, dangerous power that hums against your skin like static. Their eyes gleam in different colours, amber, crimson, violet, and their horns and tails are all unique, curling, barbed or faintly glowing. The one grinning up at Tessa, however, doesn’t fit the stereotype at all. Blonde, shaggy hair, green eyes so bright they almost look mortal, if not for the long twist of purple and green horns and the tail flicking lazily behind him,

like a happy dog.

“Rynor!” Tessa laughs as he stands and sweeps her into a hug that actually looks gentle.

“Hey, Tess,” he says, smiling wide enough to show slightly pointed canines. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought a friend!” She gestures toward me. “This is Ally. We’re celebrating… something.”

“Celebrating, huh?” His grin widens, tail wagging once before curling around his leg. “Then I guess the first round’s on me.”

“Sit, sit,” Rynor says, motioning to the empty seats across from his group. His grin is effortless, disarming, and I’m suddenly less nervous about being surrounded by actual demons. He gestures around the table as we take our seats. “That’s Nyx,” he says, nodding to the tall female with crimson eyes and black, curling horns that gleam like polished marble. Her tail flicks lazily, ending in a sharp, heart-shaped tip. “Korrin,” he continues, pointing to a lean, silver-haired demon whose eyes are slit-pupil gold and whose horns branch backward like deer antlers. “And that sulky one is Zev,” he finishes, gesturing toward a broad-shouldered guy with inky blue eyes and a tail wrapped around the leg of his chair like a python.

Rynor claps his hands together. “I’ll grab drinks. Don’t start any wars while I’m gone.”

As he disappears into the crowd, Nyx leans forward, chin resting on her hand, her tone curious but cautious. “So… what kind of magical

are you, exactly?”

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