Thornhill Academy. Chapter 78

The markets were already overflowing when we arrived. Stalls lined the cobblestone streets, selling everything from glowing pastries to bottles of moonlight in glass jars. Witches bartered over ribbons that shimmered between colours, fae vendors argued about glamour enchantments, and somewhere in the distance, a band played soft, lilting notes that sounded like laughter trapped in wind. It was all enchanting. Yet, under the hum of conversation and music, something else thrummed.

*"He’s close."*

The voice wasn’t Evander’s. It wasn’t even mine. It was her, my dragon

*"What?"* I thought back silently, clutching the strap of my bag. "*Who’s close?"*

*"The storm."* Her tone was almost… affectionate. "*A shadow with a heart like thunder. Do you feel it?"*

I didn’t answer because I did feel something. Not clearly, more like the ghost of a tug beneath my ribs, subtle but sure. A pull to the left, where the crowd grew thicker, the shadows deeper. I tried to shake it off. Maybe it was just the chaos of the market, or the leftover drain from training. Maybe I was imagining things.

Evander nudged my shoulder. “You okay, pet?”

I blinked up at him, his golden eyes scanning my face. “Yeah,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just… crowded.”

He took my hand without thinking, fingers curling around mine. “Then stick close.”

I didn’t argue.

Tessa dragged us into the tailor’s, a small but elegant shop glowing with enchanted mirrors and floating bolts of fabric. Evander stepped onto the platform while a seamstress, a tiny witch with pink hair. She circled him with a measuring tape.

“I’m not sure black suits you,” she said thoughtfully.

Evander smirked. “I wear it better than most.”

Tessa and I exchanged a look, both of us trying not to laugh.

The witch hummed, flicking her fingers. “Midnight blue would be better. Something regal. Something to match your...” she glanced at me and grinned “companion’s eyes.”

I felt my face heat. Evander’s grin only widened. By the time he was done being fussed over and fitted, Tessa had wandered off to a jewellery stall, and I found myself staring at a pair of silver shoes displayed in a window. They were impossibly delicate, laced with faintly glowing threads, and I knew immediately they would murder my feet within an hour.

“I’ll take them,” I told the vendor anyway.

We found Tessa again near a hair enchantment booth. She was testing a glamour charm that made her curls shimmer between shades of copper and gold.

“Oh my gods, Ally, look!” she squealed, waving her hand. “They have glamour enchantments for makeup! Instant highlight and long lashes for twenty-four hours, waterproof and Council approved!”

“Council approved,” Evander muttered dryly. “Now that’s comforting.”

But I bought a charm anyway, because if it meant not spending three hours getting ready for the festival, I was all for it. We ended up at a cozy little diner tucked between two apothecaries. The place smelled of coffee, cinnamon, and warm bread, and the air hummed with soft enchantments that kept the tables faintly glowing in the fading daylight. Evander ordered enough food for three people, which I was starting to learn was normal dragon behaviour. Tessa talked through most of it, about the festival, about who she hoped to dance with, and which professors she suspected would sneak wine into their teacups that night. I laughed, sipping my drink, but every so often I felt it again, that faint pull from somewhere beyond the window. That quiet hum just at the edge of my awareness.

*"He watches,"* my dragon murmured. *"He listens. He waits."*

*"Who?"* I asked again silently.

*"Another heart that beats for you."*

My hand froze around my glass.

Across the table, Evander frowned. “You sure you’re okay?”

I forced a laugh, brushing it off. “Yeah, just tired. Market air’s probably got too much enchantment dust in it.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, reaching over to brush his thumb across my knuckles. His touch grounded me again, a steady warmth against the chill threading through my magic.

When the bill came, Tessa insisted on paying, declaring it her “thank you for surviving the Veil fiasco” contribution. Evander didn’t even try to argue. He just leaned back, watching her talk with that mix of amusement and quiet affection I’d come to recognise. Outside, the sun was sinking behind the rooftops, painting the world in gold and pink. Lanterns flickered to life across the streets, their light soft and floating, almost like stars that had forgotten how to stay in the sky.

Tessa linked arms with both of us as we made our way back toward the academy. “Can you believe it’s only a few days away?” she sighed dreamily. “The Moonlight Festival. Fated bonds, destiny, dancing under the full moon, it’s like living in a storybook.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, though my chest ached with something else. “A storybook.”

The pull came again, softer this time. The air shifted, cold brushing down my spine. From the shadows between two buildings, something, someone, watched. I couldn’t see them, couldn’t even make out a shape, but my dragon stirred inside me, restless, alert.

*"Soon,"* she whispered. *"The storm will find you."*

I shivered, forcing a smile when Tessa looked my way. Evander squeezed my hand gently, his dragon humming in answer to mine, unaware of the third heartbeat beginning to echo faintly in the dark.

That night, when the academy finally fell quiet and the lanterns outside burned to low embers, I slipped from my bed. Evander’s breathing was slow and even, his arm slung heavy around my waist, and I eased it aside carefully before leaving my room and making my way to Cage's. The familiar rush of cold magic pulsed through my fingertips as I summoned the wraith. Her laughter echoed faintly through the corridor as she drifted into Cage’s room. It had become a habit now, more than just revenge, but a routine of sorts that my wraith enjoyed. It always started with the sharp inhale of his breath, the twitch, the nightmare bloom that left him gasping. My wraith loved the taste of his fear. But tonight, something was different. In the far corner of the room, the shadows thickened. They didn’t look like normal darkness; they breathed. My wraith sensed it too.

A low chuckle, deep and velvet-smooth, rippled through the stillness. Not from Cage. Not from my wraith. From the dark itself.

My dragon stirred uneasily in the little supply I had left from Evander. *"The storm watches."*

Before I could react, the shape, whatever it was, unravelled into smoke and was gone, leaving only the scent of rain and ash behind. Heart pounding, I dismissed the wraith and made my way to my room, crawling back into bed, sliding under the covers beside Evander’s warmth. He stirred, mumbling my name in his sleep as I pressed my face to his chest. But I didn’t sleep for a long time. The sound of that quiet, dangerous laugh lingered in my head.