Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 68

I laugh lightly and raise my hands. “Relax. I’m not into snooping around or anything like that. Your thoughts are safe.”

That earns a few awkward chuckles and an exhale of relief from Korrin, whose tail finally drops back down with a soft thud. “Good,” he mutters, grinning despite himself. “Didn’t want you finding out about my deep emotional bond with Rynor’s tail.”

The group laughs, and just like that, the tension in the air starts to melt, Rynor returns, balancing a tray of glasses that shimmer faintly, each one glowing a different colour, the liquid inside shifting like molten metal. He sets them down with a flourish.

“Hellfire liquor,” he says proudly. “Brewed by imps, banned by angels, and guaranteed to make mortals question their life choices.”

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Touch Her And Die.

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“Perfect,” Tessa grins, already reaching for one.

I take mine a little more hesitantly, but the first sip burns straight through me like liquid flame, heat blooming in my chest before settling into a dizzy, magical hum under my skin. The others cheer when I don’t cough, and Rynor raises his glass to me with a

mischievous wink.

The music seems to pulse harder after that, the rhythm sliding into my bones. Maybe it’s the drink, maybe it’s the faint enchantment woven into the air, but the edges of the world feel softer, brighter. Laughter drifts from every corner. One drink turns into two. Then three. And when Tessa grabs my hand and pulls me toward the crowded dance floor, I don’t even hesitate. We twirl and sway under the violet lanterns, laughing so hard my ribs ache. The beat thrums through the floor and up my legs, the magic of it tangling with the faint buzz in my veins. For once, there’s no academy, no council, no wraiths or secrets, just the pulse of the music, Tessa’s infectious grin, and the feeling of finally, finally having fun.

The music was a pulse under my skin, lights wobbling like stars in a kettle. I was laughing, really laughing, letting the rhythm push the sharp edges off my nerves. Then two vampires slid into the swirl of dancers. Vampires that were all pale cheekbones and too-bright smiles. The taller one brushed past me, and suddenly the air around my throat felt wrong, like a glove turned inside out. He moved in as if we’d been arranged, hands settling at my hips. Heat and cold collided where his fingers rested. His mouth ghosted along the curve of my neck, and my laugh died in my throat. I tried to shrug him off, but his weight leaned into me, anchoring me to the spot. The liquor’s haze shuddered through me; my vision wavered, muscles turning traitorously soft. Panic prickled at the back of my neck. Tessa’s face tightened beside me, her smile gone, just as Rynor and his lot rose from their corner, the easy warmth of their earlier jokes gone hard. “Oi!” Rynor barked at a shorter vamp near Tessa, stepping forward, tail swishing like a warning. The tall one behind me tightened his grip. My breath hitched. I watched, helpless, as his fangs elongated, a slow, obscene show. The world narrowed to the stretch of pale teeth

and the wet glitter of menace.

Then he was on his ass. Kael was standing over him, furious as a storm. He’d come out of nowhere, all teeth and heat and lethal intent. The vampire’s jaw hung open; his friends froze, shock and anger flaring across their faces.

“Touch her,” Kael said, voice low and lethal, “and die.”

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