Thornhill Academy. Novels & Stories

"You'll see Miles again shortly, his class should be ending here soon, and he'll come to get you to show you to your new quarters. "New quarters?" I ask, "And what about my friends?" "You're officially enrolled in Divine Academy; you must attend school here and learn how to harness your powers. How about you take a few sips of your water, and we can discuss your friends." I felt a sense of dread developing in the pit of my stomach, and I knew that whatever the Headmaster had to tell me wouldn't be good. I took a few sips of my water before putting it down on the coffee table, placing my hand on my lap to hide that it was shaking uncontrollably.

One of Rosie’s guards strode in, chest heaving, his cloak stained with dust and blood. “Alpha,” he said, bowing to her, ignoring me entirely. “A rider has arrived from Thorns. A messenger. Urgent seal.” Rosie stood at once. “Where?” “In the courtyard, my lady.” She turned to me. “You’ll forgive me, Alpha Emily. But if you don’t mind—” “Of course,” I said, rising with her. “I’ll accompany you.” Together, we crossed the courtyard, the night air thick with frost and suspicion. A rider knelt beside the fountain, clutching a scroll sealed in black wax—Rosie’s seal.

The subtle chill of vampire aura clings despite the warm air. Both still in their old Crescent Academy hoodies—faded navy with the silver moon crest—because neither bothered to change. The gates loom ahead. **Storm Academy** carved deep in stormglass and forge-iron, letters glowing soft violet-gold. Riley stops—bag slipping slight. **Riley (voice low, Cajun drawl thick):** “Well I’ll be damned. She actually did it.” Thorne reads the sign—eyes narrowing, then widening with recognition. **Thorne:**

"I've decided to send him to Thornwood Academy." My breath caught. Thornwood Academy. The most prestigious institution in the entire territory. Where the elite of the elite sent their children. Where future leaders were forged. "He'll receive specialized instruction," Vivienne continued. "Private tutors. Advanced training. The best education our pack can offer." I could barely believe what I was hearing. "Mother, I... I don't know what to say." My voice trembled slightly. "This is such an honor. Thank you." "Don't thank me yet. The academy is rigorous. He'll have to work hard." Vivienne's eyes sharpened. "But I believe he has potential. It would be a shame to let it go to waste."

The air smells of polished wood, old books, and something faintly metallic, like rain on iron. Portraits line the walls, faces half-lost in shadow. Eyes that seem to follow me as I pass. Mrs. Thorn’s heels click against the floor as she leads me deeper into the academy. “Classes begin tomorrow. Your schedule will be delivered to your room. You’re in the East Wing. Girls’ floor. Room thirteen.” I nodded. We stop before a heavy wooden door. The key she pulls from her pocket is old, iron, and when it turns in the lock, it lets out a squeaky sound.

Thorne Thorne had never seen a sparring match become so violent in his two and some years at Alpha Academy. Normally, whoever was monitoring sparring would step in and break the Alphas up before someone got injured. He was completely confused as to why the Headmaster wouldn’t, especially with a student as prized as a Princess.

They were sending him straight into the fire. Because whatever wars they had fought in the past, whatever enemies they had defeated? None of it compared to what was coming. Thornecrest Academy was more than just a school—it was an empire, hidden away in plain sight. Tucked deep within rolling greenery, far from the noise of any city, it stood like a fortress, the embodiment of wealth, power, and untouchable prestige. It was a place where futures were forged, where the elite sent their children not just to be educated, but to be sharpened, honed, and molded into something extraordinary—or something dangerous.

Thorne points to a crooked stone building with a sign hanging over the door. "The wick inn, a bit lacklustre isn't it?" Dante points to the sign, his brother nodding in agreement. "Now isn't the time for a drink, we need to see the oracle and get out of here as soon as we can" I argue. Thorne places his arm around my shoulder. "Relax my love. I don’t know where she is hiding and what better place to find out. Drunken loose lipped witches"

All thirty guards were violently pressed down to the stone ground, unable to lift their weapons or draw a full breath under the crushing weight of my aura. The heavy iron gates of the academy groaned and tore off their stone hinges, collapsing outward into the snow with a deafening *clang*. The path into the academy was completely wide open. Adrian looked at the fallen gates, then back to me, his blue eyes burning with an intense, unyielding devotion. "Let's go show them who really rules this academy."

she exclaimed. “If I'll never guess then there is no point in me guessing is there?” I sighed and placed my laptop bag down at the side. “I had a visit from mother earlier and she wanted to know if we were interested in going to the Thorns charity event next Saturday!” The Thorns are well known for their status and money. 20 years ago, Richard and Lesley Thorn invested in setting up a local apple orchard and cidery and opened Thorn cider. Before long they had expanded across the country. Their brand quickly hit shelves across all supermarkets and stores in the UK. Although their wealth has grown, the family stayed local and chose to run the local site as opposed to moving away. Their childre