Thornhill Academy. Chapter 121

**Allison**

I wake to the sound of purring. It takes me a second to realise it’s not coming from the floorboards or the shadows, but from the chest under my ear.mI blink, squinting at the slant of morning light spilling through the skylight. I’m on the couch, half draped across Rhaziel. The last thing I remember is trying to shuffle us toward the bed, but our tails had refused to untangle. Apparently, this was as far as we made it. I shift a little, testing the distance between our bodies. His arm tightens around my waist on instinct, still asleep. A low hum rolls through him, deep enough to vibrate against my ribs. For a minute, I just lie there, watching the dust in the light, feeling absurdly safe. Then a thought hits me, and my hand flies to my hair. No horns. I check my nails. No claws. I reach behind me and give my bum a quick pat, just to be sure. “Thank the gods,” I whisper. “No tail.”

Rhaziel stirs but doesn’t wake. I smile, a little giddy with relief. I’m me again, human-looking me. Then I notice a faint shimmer on my arm, right where his hand rests. The light catches it, pale blue and soft, like water glinting under moonlight. Lines...no, sigils, curl over my skin in delicate patterns, weaving around my wrist and climbing toward my shoulder. My breath catches, and I sit up carefully, dislodging his arm, and the blanket slides down. The markings continue across my chest, glowing faintly through the thin fabric of my shirt.

“Oh, shit,” I mutter.

Rhaziel’s eyes open instantly. He doesn’t move for a heartbeat, just blinks up at me, the purr fading into silence. “You are awake,” he says, voice rough with sleep. His gaze drifts lower, following the faint light that threads over my arms.

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Ah.”

“Ah?” I echo, half-horror, half-fascinated. “Is this—” I gesture wildly at my chest “—supposed to happen?”

He sits up, the blanket falling away. Shadows slide across his bare shoulders, slow and alive, and his tail comes around my waist. He hums thoughtfully, tilting his head like he’s studying a rare artifact.

“I am not entirely sure,” he admits. “No one has ever fed from me and lived to see another sunrise.”

I stare. “You could have led with that yesterday.”

He chuckles, a quiet sound that rumbles through the air. “It seemed unwise to mention it mid-lesson.”

I glare at him, but my pulse won’t calm. The sigils pulse with it, glowing brighter when my heart skips a beat. I touch one, tracing the line with my fingertip. The glow deepens under my touch, as if my body recognises the movement.

“What do they mean?” I ask.

Rhaziel’s expression softens. He reaches for my wrist, turning it gently in his hand so he can see the markings. “Each demon is born with sigils,” he says. “They are the story of who we are. Our bloodline. Our power. Our soul. The stronger the demon, the more intricate the marks. Mine—” he pauses, lifting his arm so I can see the same swirling designs mirrored faintly along his forearm “—signify the royal line, guardianship of the Veil, and dominion of shadow.”

I look down at mine again. They are the same. “So…” I swallow. “These are yours.”

“They are ours now,” he corrects softly. “When a demon finds their fated mate, the sigils mirror. It is how the realm knows the bond is real.”

“But I’m not a demon.”

His thumb brushes over the glowing pattern on my wrist, a gesture so gentle it makes my throat tighten. “No,” he murmurs. “But you carry my power. You have crossed the boundary. The shadow recognises you as one of its own.”

I blink down at the light, half in wonder, half in panic. “So I’m marked. Like...officially. Anyone who knows what this means will know I’m—”

“The queen,” he finishes simply.

The words hang there, impossible and heavy. I shake my head. “I’m not— I mean, I didn’t even—”

He leans forward, pressing a finger lightly to my lips. “Do not fear the title. It does not chain you. It only names what already exists.”

I lower my hand, still staring at the sigils as they fade and brighten with each heartbeat. “They’re beautiful,” I whisper.

He smiles, slow and quiet. “They suit you.”

The compliment sends a strange warmth through me, chasing away the last of the fear. “So… these won’t go away?”

“They may dim when you are far from my realm,” he says, “but they will always return. They are the mark of balance and of unity.” He glances down, eyes flicking to the faint blue tracing his own skin where our wrists still touch. “And of belonging.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I just look at him. The morning light hits his face, cutting gold across his dark features, and for a second, I think I understand what he meant about control. Not the rigid, cold kind, but the quiet knowing that comes from being seen and accepted exactly as you are.

He notices me staring and tilts his head. “Do they trouble you?”

“No,” I say honestly. “I think… I like them.”

His grin widens, a flash of perfect teeth. “Good.”

Something brushes my ankle and I glance down. His tail, of course, has done a full circle of my waist and is not locking around my legs.

“Rhaziel,” I warn.

He laughs softly, that low, melodic sound I’m starting to love. “It wants you closer,” he says, feigning innocence.

“Right,” I mutter, though I can’t stop smiling.

When I stand, he rises too, the movement liquid grace. The shadows cling to him like a living cloak, but when his hand finds mine, they retreat, leaving only warmth behind.

“So,” I say, holding up my arm, the faint blue glow shimmering in the light, “what now?”

He studies the marks once more, reverently. “Now,” he says, “you learn what it means to wear the marks of the king.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “No pressure, right?”

His tail loops once more around my leg, playful. “None at all, hummingbird.”

The glow from our skin mingles where we touch, faint and beautiful, and I can’t tell if it’s the light or the bond making the whole room feel like it’s breathing.