Thornhill Academy. Chapter 69

**Allison**

Lunch ended up outside under the elm trees, sunlight dripping through the branches in lazy gold streaks. Tessa had sprawled out beside me, shoes kicked off, munching on fruit like the world wasn’t complicated.

“Boys,” she sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the grass. “They’re all ridiculous.”

I laughed softly, nudging her with my knee. “That’s one word for them.”

Her eyes flicked to me, sharp and knowing. “Okay, spill. You’ve been brooding since breakfast. Is this about your dragon boy or our resident hellhound?”

I hesitated, chewing on my lip. “Maybe both.”

Her grin widened instantly, pure mischief. “Both? Oh, this is going to be good.”

I rolled my eyes, but the truth pushed its way up anyway. “I think… I think Kael might be my mate too.”

She sat up so fast her hair whipped her face. “What?”

“Not officially,” I rushed out. “Not yet. But I can feel something there. The way the bond tugs between us, it’s not… normal. It’s like it’s waiting.”

Tessa blinked, her grin returning with full force. “Oh my goddess. That explains why they’re acting like rabid wolves around each other. They’re fighting over you.”

I groaned, pressing my palms over my face. “I don’t want them to fight over me, Tess. I just want things to be normal.”

“Normal?” she repeated, laughing. “Ally, you’re a walking mystery wrapped in chaos. Normal left the building the second you arrived here. But—” she leaned closer, her voice lowering conspiratorially—“if you are right, and Kael’s another mate… then maybe Professor Moran wasn’t as crazy as everyone thinks. She did say you’d have protectors, plural.”

I froze at that. Protectors. Not protector. The word had struck me oddly during class, but now it twisted deeper, settling under my skin like prophecy. Before I could say anything, the bell rang, echoing across the courtyard.

“Come on, future mate magnet,” Tessa teased, jumping to her feet and brushing crumbs off her skirt. “We’ve got potions with Professor Hill. Try not to blow anything up this time.”

I groaned, dragging myself up after her. “No promises.”

We walked back through the stone archway toward the classrooms, the scent of herbs and smoke already wafting from Hill’s lab. I’d barely stepped inside before I spotted Cage slouched at our table, looking like he hadn’t slept in a week. Great. His eyes were bloodshot, his shirt half untucked, and when they met mine, he scowled like I’d personally cursed him. Maybe I had...technically.

I took the seat beside him anyway, because Professor Hill was already at the front of the room, setting up cauldrons and muttering about infusion ratios.

Cage groaned, rubbing his temples. “Fantastic. You again.”

I smirked, sliding my notes out. “You look awful.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he muttered.

My chest tightened just slightly, guilt and satisfaction warring inside me. I tilted my head, feigning innocence. “Maybe you should stop pissing people off, then.”

He glared, but the edge of fear in his eyes told me maybe I should stop haunting his nights...It's not like he's tried to kill me again.

Professor Hill’s voice cut through the hum of conversation.

“All right, class,” he said, tone smooth, cool, commanding. “Today we’ll be refining your infusion techniques, combining elemental energy with physical catalysts. You’ll each prepare a base elixir first, then etch the stabilizing rune sequence before we begin the merging process.”

The room filled instantly with motion: the clatter of glassware, the hiss of burners, the shuffle of parchment and ink. I exhaled, dragging my book and notes closer. Easy enough. Keep your head down, focus, and avoid making anything explode. Cage, of course, was less than subtle about his teaching methods.

“You’re using the wrong sequence,” he muttered, leaning over my shoulder. “That’s the binding sigil for a second-tier potion, not a base infusion. You’re going to curdle it.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know what I’m doing.”

He gave a low, humorless laugh. “Sure you do, stray.”

I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to dump my inkwell over his smug head. He wasn’t wrong that I was missing parts of the rune order, but did he have to be such an ass about it? His exhaustion wasn’t helping but I didn’t have it in me to feel sorry for him. Not after the way he’d spoken to me lately.

Before I could fire back, a voice, low and unmistakable, spoke from the front.

“Ms Rivers,” Professor Hill said, setting down his quill. “A word, please.”

I blinked, pulse skipping.

Every student within earshot went quiet. Even Cage’s smirk faltered as Hill gestured toward the door leading into his adjoining office. Oh, perfect. Round two of terrifying telepath versus anxious accidental siphon. Still, if my choices were sitting beside Cage or facing the mind-reading professor again… well, death by scrutiny suddenly seemed like the better option. I stood, gathering my things slowly. Hill didn’t look impatient, exactly, just expectant, the way a predator watches something it’s already decided to catch. As soon as I stepped into his office, the temperature seemed to shift. The door closed behind me with a soft click, and Hill moved one hand through the air, murmuring under his breath. The faint shimmer of an enchantment rippled along the walls with soundproofing. Again. I swallowed hard. The memory of yesterday, the sharp brush of his mind against mine, the flicker of recognition in his eyes, rushed back like cold water down my spine. I’d pushed it away before, buried it under everything else. But here, in this sealed room, there was no ignoring it.

He didn’t sit behind his desk. Instead, he leaned against it, arms folded, studying me in silence.

“I assume you know why I’ve asked you in,” he said finally, voice low, steady.

“No, sir.” My voice came out quieter than I meant it to. “Should I?”

His eyes, storm-grey and unnervingly clear, didn’t leave mine. “Because what I saw yesterday was not standard rune magic.”

My stomach twisted. I forced a laugh. “Well, maybe my runes just don’t follow the standard. I’m still learning—”

He tilted his head slightly, and the air in the room felt heavier. “Don’t lie, Allison.”

My breath caught. He’d used my first name. My mind raced. Did he know exactly what he’d seen? Did he recognize siphon magic? That pulse of power I’d accidentally let slip through the runes yesterday, it had been instinct, not control. The elixir had flared too bright, the glow unnatural, and for a moment the whole room had seen the veins of light crawl up my wrist before I’d snuffed it out. Now he was staring at me like he’d been waiting for confirmation.

Hill continued, voice quiet but firm, “it wasn’t drawn from your own well of magic. It was borrowed. Amplified.”

I froze, fingers tightening around the strap of my satchel.

He took a single step forward, not threatening, just deliberate. “So tell me, Ms Rivers… do you even know what kind of power you’re playing with?”