Thornhill Academy. Chapter 67

By the time lunch rolls around, I’ve read those damned tea leaves at least a hundred times in my head. Protectors, plural. It loops through my thoughts like a stuck charm, refusing to quiet. Maybe Moran was just being her usual brand of cryptic, but part of me can’t shake it, the way her voice seemed to echo when she said it. The way it felt like the room itself had gone still, like even the air knew she was right.

“Hey,” Tessa nudges me with her elbow as we file out of Divination. “You’re doing that stare-into-the-void thing again. You okay?”

I blink, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just thinking about… tea.”

She snorts. “Tea? Sure. You mean the prophecy that practically screamed you're about to have your own personal apocalypse?”

“Something like that,” I murmur.

We walk in silence for a moment before she asks, “You want to eat in your room again?”

Normally, that would’ve been an easy yes. The attic is safe. Quiet. Controlled. But today, something feels different...restless.

“Actually,” I say, surprising myself as much as her, “I think I want to eat in the food hall.”

Tessa stops mid-step, eyes wide. “Wait, you want to eat in the hall? With people? Voluntarily?”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t make it sound like a miracle.”

She grins, looping her arm through mine again. “No promises. What’s the occasion?”

I don’t answer right away. The truth, that I’m hoping to see Kael, feels too raw, too revealing, especially when I’m not even sure what I want from him. To talk? To yell? To understand why he’s suddenly treating me like I’m something dangerous instead of… whatever we were before.

I settle on a shrug. “Just a change of scenery.”

“Right,” she teases.

“Tessa—”

“Fine, fine,” she says, laughing.

We’re halfway down the corridor when Evander rounds the corner, waiting by the stairwell like he’s been expecting us. He’s leaning against the wall, tray of books balanced easily in one hand, golden eyes already fixed on me.

“Hey,” he says, that familiar warmth sliding into his voice. “You two heading up?”

“Actually,” I tell him, “we’re eating in the hall today.”

One of his eyebrows quirks upward, amusement and suspicion warring in his expression. “Oh? What’s brought that on?”

Tessa grins. “Character development.”

Evander’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Lead the way, pet.”

I swear, the way he says *pet* still makes something flutter in my chest and apparently, Tessa catches it because she bumps my shoulder, grinning like an idiot.

“Come on then, future tea-leaf warrior,” she whispers. “Let’s go find your *protectors.*”

As we step into the main hall, the low hum of chatter and clatter of cutlery fills the air. It’s crowded, warm, alive and for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like running from it. Still, as my eyes scan the room, landing on the familiar shock of short blonde hair and that stupidly cocky grin sitting a few tables over, my pulse quickens. Kael Pierce. He looks up like he feels me staring, his expression darkening for a split second before softening just enough to confuse the hell out of me. I didn’t wait for anyone to ask where we were sitting. Didn’t wait for Evander’s warning glance or Tessa’s subtle *are you sure* tug on my sleeve. My feet were already moving, carrying me straight through the crowded tables until I reached the one spot that made the most sense, and absolutely none at all. He looked up mid-bite, those sharp hazel eyes flashing from confusion to surprise to something I couldn’t quite name. His jaw tightened, and the chatter around us dimmed in my head. I sat down. Just like that. Like I belonged there. Evander and Tessa followed, of course, Evander because there was no universe where he’d let me sit at a table with Kael unsupervised, and Tessa because she was clearly living for the drama.

The tension hit the table like static. Evander sat on my right, Kael on my left, both radiating heat and unspoken hostility. Their dragon and hound instincts must’ve been wrestling beneath the surface, because I could feel it, the push, the pull, the unsteady current of power and possessiveness that made my skin hum. They nodded at each other, curt and tight-lipped, a silent truce that fooled no one. Tessa pressed her lips together hard, like if she didn’t, she’d burst out laughing. “Wow,” she muttered under her breath, “the testosterone at this table could be bottled and sold as a weapon.”

I shot her a look that said *don’t start*, and she threw up her hands in mock innocence before focusing way too intently on her plate. She skimmed the rim twice, and food shimmered into existence, a perfect roasted sandwich and a heap of golden fries. Typical Tessa. I turned back to Kael, who was still watching me like I was some sort of puzzle he hadn’t decided whether to solve or burn.

I forced a small smile, meeting his gaze head-on. “Hi.”

His brows lifted slightly, surprise flickering across his features. For a long, heavy moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared, searching, as though waiting for me to flinch or regret being here.

Finally, his lips twitched, just barely. “Hey, Rivers.”

Evander made a low sound in his throat, too soft to be a growl, too sharp to be a sigh, and I pretended not to notice.

The silence between the three of us was unbearable. It was like sitting between two ticking bombs and pretending I didn’t hear the countdown. Kael kept picking at his food, stabbing a piece of bread like it had personally wronged him, while Evander just sat there, all coiled muscle and simmering restraint.

I sighed, loudly enough that both of them looked at me. “Okay,” I said, dropping my fork onto my plate with a clatter. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with the two of you, but the shit stops now.”

Kael’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “What—”

“No,” I cut him off, glaring between them. “You’re friends. Best friends, from what I’ve been told. You’ve known each other your entire lives, and now what? You can’t even sit at the same table without looking like you want to rip each other’s throats out?”

Evander’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t speak.

Kael leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest, that familiar smirk ghosting across his lips. “You think it’s that simple, Rivers?” he asked, voice rough with something darker. “You think we’re just having some schoolyard spat?”

“I think,” I said sharply, “you’re acting like idiots.”

Tessa choked on her drink beside me, eyes flicking back and forth like she was watching a live match.

Kael’s smirk faltered for just a second before he looked away, running a hand through his short, spiked blond hair. “You don’t get it,” he muttered.

“Then explain it to me,” I snapped. “Because all I see are two guys who used to be brothers acting like strangers. Whatever this is between you, it’s exhausting."