Thornhill Academy. Chapter 102

**Allison**

At first, it’s a dream. A really, really good one. Warmth on every side, the steady rhythm of Kael’s heartbeat under my ear, the slow rise and fall of Evander’s chest pressed against my back. I can feel both of them even through fur and muscle—my fur, my muscle—and that’s still such a ridiculous thing to think about that if I had human lips right now, I’d be laughing.

Instead, I just huff out a soft sound and let my tail flick once. The bed creaks.

Inside my head, there’s company.

*Well, look at us,* says a voice that’s definitely not mine. It’s deeper, smoother and bery smug. My hellhound, apparently. *Two mates, one bed, and the warm spot in the middle, all ours.*

I want to snort, but in my head it comes out as a rumble. *You’re awfully proud of yourself.*

*You’re not?* She teases. *They smell like safety. And maybe a little sin.*

Before I can argue, another presence winds through the bond—brighter, sharper, the crackle of scales and smoke. *Behave,* the dragon warns, her tone lazy but amused. *She’s still getting used to us.*

*She’s fine,* the hellhound replies, tail wagging audibly in my mind. *She likes being between us. You can feel it too, can’t you?*

The dragon’s only answer is a low, contented hum that warms my whole body from the inside out.

Somewhere off in the corner of my mind, the wraith is there too—quiet, hovering like a shadow that doesn’t need light or warmth. He never talks much. He just… listens. Watches. Probably collecting nightmares like little trophies.

I don’t feel like shifting back. Not yet. This form feels right, like it fits me in a way my human body never quite has. So I breathe in, rest my head back on Kael’s chest, and let his hand fall automatically into my fur. Evander’s arm curls around my waist from behind, his heat wrapping over me like a blanket. Between the two of them, it’s easy to drift off again. For a while, it’s perfect.

Then, somewhere in the darkness, the warmth starts to change. It’s subtle at first, a ripple of heat through my spine, a pulse of magic that feels too thick, too heavy. I twitch, trying to shift, and a low growl slips from my throat before I can stop it.

The hellhound in my head stretches lazily. *Oh. Oh, this is interesting.*

*What?* I ask, my thoughts foggy, sluggish. *Why is it so hot?*

*You’ll see,* he says, unhelpfully smug.

I roll, panting. Sweat slicks my skin—fur?—and suddenly it’s too much. The heat isn’t just outside; it’s in me. I blink awake properly, the room still dark, and realise my fur feels suffocating, like wearing a blanket in the middle of a furnace.

Maybe it’s the fur, I think blearily. Maybe hellhounds aren’t supposed to sleep pressed between a dragon and another hound.

The dragon in my mind chuckles. *You’re not wrong. We run warm, little one.*

That decides it. I shift. The magic rips through me in a rush of silver light, bones rearranging, fur melting away until I’m suddenly very, very human again. And, of course, very naked.

“Shit,” I mumble, squirming as I roll over, trying to shove the blankets down. The movement jostles Kael awake first.

His hand shoots out, catching my arm. “Trouble?” His voice is rough with sleep. He blinks, squints, then his brows shoot up. “What—what’s wrong? You okay?”

Evander’s already stirring, sitting up beside us, his skin glowing faintly in the moonlight spilling through the window. The man has somehow managed to lose both his shirt and his pants, and my brain is absolutely not equipped to handle that right now.

“I—” I start, but my voice cracks. I’m sweating, my skin too hot, my magic fizzing like it’s caught between laughter and fire.

Evander leans in, worry flashing across his face as he presses the back of his hand to my forehead. “You’re burning up, pet.” His eyes narrow. “What’s wrong? What is it? Tell us.”

I can’t answer, not when there’s so much skin in front of me. Kael’s shirtless too—tattoos and scars and pure heat—and between the two of them, it feels like sitting in the centre of the sun.

The hellhound in my head practically purrs. *You’re surrounded by mates. That’s what’s wrong.*

“Too hot,” I manage, tugging at the sheets, my heart hammering.

Kael sniffs the air once, twice, his eyes going wide, then dark. “Oh. Oh, shit.” He turns toward Evander, his voice dropping to a low growl. “I think she’s going into heat.”

Evander freezes, eyes cutting to me, something primal flickering behind all that calm.

And I just stare between them, half mortified, half… something else entirely, because the bond hums in agreement, the dragon’s fire and the hound’s hunger twisting together in my blood like they’ve been waiting for this exact moment.

The heat builds until I can barely think. My skin feels too tight, too alive, every nerve sparking under my flesh like I’ve swallowed lightning. I try to shift again, to do something, but it only makes the ache worse.

“It hurts,” I gasp, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “Gods, it—it hurts. I’m so hot, I can’t—”

Kael is already halfway upright, his eyes glowing faintly in the low light, pupils blown wide. He reaches for me but stops short, his nostrils flaring as he inhales. The sound he makes is halfway between a growl and a groan. Evander stiffens beside me. His own breath catches, and his eyes flare molten gold. The air thickens, heavy with scent and heat and the pounding of three heartbeats tangled together.

“What’s happening?” I manage, voice trembling. “Why does it feel like this? Please—make it stop.”

Kael swallows hard, dragging a hand through his hair like he’s fighting himself. “Trouble,” he murmurs, voice low, rough, dangerous. “There’s only one way to help you.”

My heart stutters. “What do you mean?”

He leans closer, his breath hot against my cheek. “You’re in heat,” he says softly, almost reverently. “And the only thing that’s going to cool you down… is us.”

Behind him, Evander exhales sharply, the sound halfway between a curse and a prayer. His fists are in the sheets, knuckles white. “Are you sure you want us to put out that fire, pet?”

The way he says it—steady but full of barely leashed hunger—makes the ache twist lower, deeper.

I look between them, both of them shirtless, scenting me like predators scenting prey. Kael’s eyes are pure amber now, the hellhound in him fully awake; Evander’s skin shimmers with the faint glow of heat and restraint, his dragon barely leashed.

My throat goes dry, words tumbling out in a whisper. “Just… make it stop.”

The hound in my head hums with pleasure. The dragon purrs. And I know, in the space of one trembling heartbeat, that nothing about this night will ever be the same again.