Thornhill Academy. Chapter 106

**Cassian**

The weekend stretches like a wound that refuses to close. I spend most of it pacing my office, the scent of old ink and parchment too sharp, the silence too loud. My stomach’s been in knots since Evander and Kael showed up at my door with panic in their eyes, asking if I’d seen Allison. They didn’t need to say her name for my pulse to quicken; I knew who they meant. I told them no. Told them I hadn’t seen her. Told them, with the kind of coldness I’ve spent years perfecting, that she was capable of taking care of herself. But the moment they left, I almost followed. Almost broke every rule, every restraint I’ve ever clung to. But I didn’t. I waited because that’s what I was told to do. Because I was supposed to be the rational one. The teacher. The professional. Only I’m not just her professor. I’m her mate. And waiting for her—knowing she’s out there somewhere, surrounded by others who can touch her, who can hold her—is agony.

By Monday morning, my nerves are stretched so thin I can barely keep my hands steady. I tell myself that today will be fine. The weekend is over. Classes resume. She’ll walk through the door like she always does, late, perhaps, but smiling, ready with some sarcastic remark about my grading system. But when the first lecture starts, her seat stays empty and the second. Half the class is missing, truth be told. The festival always leaves its mark—new bonds, new discoveries, and the week the academy generously offers for students to adjust. I’m supposed to be understanding. It’s tradition. It’s policy. Still, unease coils through me, cold and sharp. I can’t concentrate. I can’t breathe. When the final bell rings, I don’t go home. I wait for her in the training room instead, telling myself that she might come for her private lessons. She’s never missed one before. She wouldn’t start now. But she doesn’t come. The clock ticks. The torches burn low. The silence presses down until I can’t stand it anymore. I tell myself it’s just concern for a student. That I’m simply a professor checking on a student who’s missed two classes in a row. That this isn’t personal. But I know that’s a lie. I’m not walking to her dorm as a teacher. I’m walking there as a man who’s been denied something he can’t even name out loud. A man whose veins hum with a bond he’s not allowed to acknowledge. By the time I reach her door, the corridor is empty. The lights dim. My hand hovers above the wood, trembling just once before I knock.

Once. Twice.

No answer.

My heart hammers anyway.

“Allison?” I call softly.

Nothing.

I rest my palm against the door, the faint pulse of her magic, muted but there, thrumming against my skin. She’s close. Alive. But the distance between us might as well be an ocean.

I draw in a sharp breath and whisper to the empty hallway, “You’re driving me mad, little siphon.”

The door swings open before I can knock again. Kael stands there, bare-chested, a towel slung low on his hips, hair damp and wild as if he’s just stepped out of steam. The scent that hits me is thick, a mix of soap, smoke, and something darker underneath, which makes the bond in my chest lurch. Sex. It smells so strongly of sex that I actually have to take a step back and threaten to topple myself down the stairs.

“Professor?” His mouth curves into a slow, knowing grin.

I swallow hard, forcing my voice steady. “Where’s Allison?”

He leans one arm against the doorframe, utterly unbothered. “Oh, I thought you didn’t care. What was it you said?” His grin widens. “She can take care of herself?”

I grit my teeth. “Kael—”

And then I hear it—a soft, breathy sound from deeper inside the room. My words die in my throat.

Kael glances over his shoulder, that wolfish smile sharpening. “She’s currently a little busy,” he says easily, though there’s an edge of amusement that makes my pulse spike. “Going through a bit of a heat right now.”

He raises his voice slightly, loud enough for whoever’s inside to hear. “If you want to come in, Professor, I’m sure she’d be happy to see you.”

He knows I won’t. He’s daring me. Testing just how much control I really have. My fists curl at my sides as I turn away, trying to breathe past the ache in my chest. It shouldn’t matter. I have no right. No claim. She’s safe. That’s what matters.

And then—

“Professor?”

Her voice. Soft, drowsy, but unmistakably hers. It freezes me mid-step. I turn back around to see Kael’s grin fade into something else... a quiet victory, maybe, or understanding. I can’t tell with him. He's psychotic at the best of times, and there is no chance in hell that I'm delving into his mind right now to find out. I'm sure whatever is there is everything I do and don't want to see at the same time. The bond flares hot under my skin, her voice echoing through every thought until the air feels too thick to breathe. She comes to the door beside him, a fluffy blanket held to her chest, which is rising and falling much too fast for me not to notice.

"Cassian?" She tries again and takes a step forward past him, but I'm already taking another step backwards down the stairs, trying desperately to peel my eyes away. I shake my head, swallow roughly and do just that. I drag my eyes away from my mate, away from the image of her like this, of what I simply cannot be seeing as her professor with no legal permission to do anything more than be that for her right now.

I manage one rough whisper, meant for no one but myself. “You’ll be the death of me, Allison.”

Then I walk away, her voice still chasing me down the stairs, the sound of it far more dangerous than any magic she’s ever wielded.

"Cassian, wait!"

But I don't.