Thornhill Academy. Chapter 76

I can feel my dragon’s indignation at that word. Her tail slaps the floor hard enough to rattle the nearby shelves, and she huffs again, the smoky exhale aimed directly at him.

“Okay, okay, easy, baby,” Evander chuckles, hands raised in mock surrender. “You’re beautiful and terrifying and completely in control, alright? But Ally needs her body back.”

Her golden eyes roll before she thuds her chin onto the ground, a sulky child in the form of a celestial beast.

Professor Hill pinches the bridge of his nose. “Of course,” he mutters. “I finally find the most powerful siphon in centuries, and she’s bonded with a dragon that throws tantrums.”

Evander laughs harder at that, his dragon’s warmth flickering behind his eyes. “She’s just… attached.”

"Then clearly you need to be spending more time with her. Take her for a walk or something, or whatever it is you giant beasts do in your free time." Hill says and then mutters something about needing more wine under his breath.

I can’t help it, from somewhere deep within my dragon’s chest, I start laughing too. The sound comes out as a throaty, rumbling trill that echoes through the room.

Evander steps closer, brushing his fingers against her snout with a soft smile. “Alright, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and coaxing. “You’ll see me again soon, I promise. But for now, let my girl come back.”

The golden eyes blink once. Twice. And then, finally, with one last dramatic huff, she relents, the heat rising again, scales melting back into skin, wings folding into nothing.

When I open my eyes, I’m back on the floor, flushed and breathless, glaring at the smug look on Evander’s face.

“Don’t,” I warn. “Say it.”

He smirks anyway. “She's so cute.”

Professor Hill clears his throat sharply. The sound snapping through the quiet like a whip. I blink, disoriented, still half sprawled on the floor. Then I notice why he sounds strangled. He’s standing several feet away, his entire body turned stiffly in the opposite direction, arm awkwardly stretched out behind him. In his hand, he’s holding his long black coat…

“Please,” he says, voice a low, pained rumble, “cover yourself, Miss Rivers.”

Oh. Oh, shit.

My face flames instantly. “Right. Sorry!” I scramble to grab the coat from his hand, mortified, yanking it around my body as fast as humanly possible. The heavy fabric nearly swallows me whole, smelling faintly of ink and old paper.

Evander, of course, is absolutely no help. I can hear him stifling a laugh behind me, his shoulders shaking with it.

“Something funny, Mr. Drayke?” Hill asks, still resolutely facing the wall.

“No, sir,” Evander says quickly, though his voice cracks with amusement.

“Good,” Hill mutters, finally lowering his hand but still not turning around. “Because the next time I’m assaulted by dragon-sized displays of bonded affection in my classroom, I might just revoke both of your access to the training wing entirely.”

I bite back a laugh, hugging the oversized coat tighter. “Noted, Professor.”

“Excellent,” he says crisply. Then, in a quieter tone that almost sounds like resignation: “Class dismissed before I lose what’s left of my sanity.”

Evander takes my hand, his grin absolutely wicked.

“Come on, pet,” he whispers. “Let’s get you home before you give the poor man an aneurysm.”

I tug the coat tighter around me and glare at him, but it’s no use; he’s already laughing.

We walk through the empty corridor together, the echoes of our footsteps bouncing softly off the stone walls. I’m still wrapped in Professor Hill’s coat, swimming in fabric that smells faintly of smoke and old ink, and Evander’s grin has yet to fade.

“So,” he drawls, his shoulder brushing mine, “should I be concerned that your dragon wants to eat me, kiss me, or maybe both?”

I snort. “Probably both. Though I think she’d start with the kissing. Or maybe the licking. Did you see his face when she licked the professor?”

He groans, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t remind me. The poor man looked like he had aged ten years in five seconds. I thought he was going to faint.”

That makes me laugh, the sound echoing through the hall.

Evander leans closer, voice low and teasing. “I’m just saying, if your dragon’s that into me, maybe she knows something you don’t.”

I give him a playful shove, still smiling. “She also licked Hill, so don’t flatter yourself, golden boy.”

He clutches his chest in mock offence. “You wound me.”

We turn the corner, and I stop short. Another poster is pinned to the wall. Deep blue parchment dusted with silver stars, the title glittering across the top in swirling script: The Moonlight Festival – One Week Away.

My stomach twists. One week. That’s when the fates are revealed, when the bonds solidify for good.

Evander follows my gaze, and his grin softens. “It’s coming fast,” he says quietly.

“Yeah,” I murmur, still staring at the glowing moon printed across the poster. “Faster than I thought.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks. There’s excitement under my skin, yes, but also dread. The festival could make everything official. Or it could tear everything apart.

Evander reaches out and gently hooks a finger under my chin, turning my face back toward him. “Hey,” he says softly. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

My heart stutters. I nod, but my mind whispers back a truth neither of us can ignore. *Together—for now.*

By the time we got back to my room, I was starving and sore. Evander insisted on cooking, of course. He claimed it was to make sure I “refuelled properly,” but I think he just really likes feeding me. Dinner was simple: pan-seared chicken, garlic butter, and steamed vegetables that he somehow made taste sinful. We showered after, taking turns even though his idea of “taking turns” meant him poking his head in halfway through mine to ask if I wanted dessert. I think he just wanted to perve, judging by the way his eyes raked over my body and his pants tightened. Later, wrapped in clean clothes and tangled in warm blankets, I fell asleep with my head against his shoulder and his fingers drawing lazy circles on my arm. For a moment, it felt like we weren’t fugitives from fate or experiments waiting to explode. Just a girl and a boy in a quiet dorm room, breathing in sync.