Thornhill Academy. Chapter 75

Evander extends his hand toward me. I hesitate for half a heartbeat, then place my palm against his. The moment our skin touches, his magic surges, hotter, heavier than before, pouring into me like fire meeting wind. My body hums with it, every nerve alive. At first, I can manage it. I focus on the rhythm Hill drilled into me. Draw, shape, release. But soon the power starts to build faster than I can channel it, the gold turning to something brighter, whiter, wilder.

“Breathe,” Hill reminds me, circling the runes. “Find the balance.”

I try. Gods, I try. But the energy climbs higher and higher, bursting against the cage of my ribs. My skin glows, my heartbeat pounding like war drums. I can’t contain it anymore.

“Professor...” Evander’s voice cuts through, urgent, strained. “She’s...”

The next moment, the world explodes.

Light sears through my vision, a roar splitting the air. My body isn’t mine anymore; it’s shifting, expanding, bones creaking and reshaping under a rush of impossible heat. My skin burns gold, scales racing across my arms, my neck, my chest. My wings unfurl, broad and strong and far too big for this room. I hear shouting — Hill, maybe Evander — as my tail sweeps across the runes, overturning chairs and knocking over the professor himself. Tables splinter, parchment flies, and my roar fills the air, echoing off the walls like thunder trapped in a cage. Through the chaos, I feel him, Evander. His dragon’s delight rushes through our bond like wildfire.

*She’s magnificent.* I hear in my mind. The words are his, but not. They rumble through his dragon’s mind, deep and awed, and I can feel his pride flooding into me, warm and grounding.

I fold my wings awkwardly, trying not to break what’s left of the room. Hill’s sitting on the floor, staring up at me with wide eyes, hair dishevelled, coat half torn. For once, the man looks completely human. Astonished, breathless, and maybe a little impressed.

“Well,” he says, dusting off his sleeve, voice dry but steady. “That answers that question.”

Evander laughs softly, stepping forward, his hand glowing faintly as he lays it against my scaled shoulder. “Hey, pretty girl.” He coos, stroking my dragon.

Evander’s touch feels like sunlight. His fingers trace over the ridge of my scales, and my dragon purrs so loud it rattles the ruined desks. The deep sound vibrates through the floor, through him, through me. She presses her massive head into his chest with a huff that sends his hair flying, a soft plume of smoke curling from her nostrils.

“Yeah, I missed you too, baby,” Evander says, laughing as she nudges him harder, forcing him to stumble back a step. His laughter rolls through me like music, and it makes my dragon’s tail thump against the floor in what can only be described as pure, unrestrained joy. I feel everything she feels, his warmth, his scent, his bond. It’s grounding and dizzying all at once.

Then Hill’s voice cuts through the hum.

“Fascinating,” he murmurs.

Evander tenses immediately. “Professor,” he warns, stepping instinctively in front of me, “careful. She doesn’t have full control of her dragon right now. She’s all instinct and animal right now.”

Hill ignores him completely. The man apparently has nerves of steel. He steps closer, eyes sharp with curiosity and something dangerously close to reverence. “You’re remarkable, Miss Rivers,” he says softly.

My dragon's golden eyes narrow, nostrils flaring as she leans forward. Evander stiffens. “Professor,” he snaps, “back—”

But instead of lashing out, my dragon tilts her enormous head, curious. She inhales deeply, scenting him, and before anyone can react, her long, rough tongue drags up the side of his face in one slow, wet, decidedly affectionate lick.

Evander chokes on a laugh. Hill freezes. I can feel my dragon’s amusement ripple through her chest, a rumbling sound that shakes the ground beneath us. The ever-composed Professor Cassian Hill looks utterly undone. His hair, already dishevelled, sticks up even worse now, and there’s a shining streak of dragon saliva glistening across his cheek. Evander doubles over laughing, clutching his ribs. “Guess she likes you, Professor.”

Hill blinks once, twice, wipes his face with his sleeve, and manages to say with the straightest expression imaginable: “Good to know I’m in her good graces. I’d rather that than the alternative.”

My dragon’s rumbling laugh mirrors Evander’s now, the two sounds blending like rolling thunder and fire. And deep inside her, inside me, I can feel the first flicker of trust forming between us all.

My dragon preens under Evander’s hands, eyes half-lidded in lazy contentment, the golden shimmer of her scales catching the candlelight like living fire. She purrs again when he strokes beneath her jaw, the sound deep enough to vibrate through my bones.

“Mr Drayke,” Professor Hill says, dragging his sleeve over his cheek one more time. “Now that you’ve both destroyed half of my classroom, I think it’s time to see if she can shift back, controlled this time.”

Evander turns his head toward him, lips quirking in that half-grin that always spells trouble. “But I’ve missed her.”

Hill exhales sharply, the sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl. “You’ll have a lifetime with her if we can train you both properly, Mr Drayke. Now teach her how to shift before I have to requisition a new building.”

Evander chuckles, stepping forward again. My dragon huffs approvingly and bends down so he can rest his hand against the side of her snout. “We’ll play together soon, okay, baby?” he murmurs, voice soft enough to melt steel. She nudges him once, an affectionate, careful shove that nearly knocks him over anyway and he laughs again before backing away.

“Alright, pet,” he says, focusing his eyes on mine. “Just like before. Picture your human body. Feel it, see it, want it. Don’t fight the change, guide it.”

Easy enough to say. I try to close my eyes and focus on the rhythm of his voice, on the steady pull of my heartbeat. I can see the image he’s talking about, my own body, small and soft and human, but my dragon? She doesn’t move. I feel her, stubborn and silent, her chest rumbling with low defiance.

“Come on,” I murmur in my head, trying to coax her like I would a child. “We need to shift back.”

Her response is a disgruntled snort that bursts from her nostrils as a puff of smoke.

“Please?”

Another huff, louder this time, and she deliberately turns her massive golden head away from Evander, wings twitching in irritation.

“Uh,” Evander says after a pause, glancing at Hill, who looks both baffled and mildly offended.

“What,” the professor asks dryly, “is she doing?”

Evander presses a hand to his mouth, failing miserably to stifle a laugh. “I don’t think her dragon wants to let her shift back.”

Hill blinks, deadpan. “She’s… refusing?”

A deep, almost petulant rumble rolls from my dragon’s throat, and the ground vibrates beneath her claws.

“Oh, she’s absolutely refusing,” Evander confirms, his grin widening. “That’s the sound of a full-blown tantrum.”