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.

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."

"I'll make you pay. You'll beg for mercy when I'm done with you! How dare you appear in John's mind and heart like this? Why did you even come back to New York?" I glared at the photo, my grip tightening as if I could crush her smug face with my bare hands. My gaze flickered to one of the scattered documents. The name Thornfield School was printed in bold letters across the top of the paper, catching my eye. Why did he have this? Thornfield was a school for young werewolves, and I hadn’t even convinced a child yet. Was... Was this connected to Evelyn’s kids somehow?

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

The iron gates of Blackthorn Academy closed behind me. I stood on the gravel drive, suitcase at my feet, staring up at the sprawling stone building that would be my home for the next three years. My parents had sent me here after deciding I needed “structure.” Blackthorn promised discipline, tradition, and the kind of education that opened doors. What it actually delivered was, rules, and a headmaster who looked like he had stepped out of a ghost story. Victor Hale.

Blackthorne Academy. 1 p.m. The gate of the Blackthorne Academy loomed ahead—like an entrance to another world. Maybe it was, because this is where the elites and the strongest warrior all over the kingdoms are groomed and trained. Lena heart raced as Darius pulled up in the driveway just before the dormitory. "I guess this is it," he said, stepping out and opening the car boot. Lena stepped out too, pulling out her two boxes. She had difficulty carrying them, so Darius took it from her, carrying it like it weighed nothing. "Should I help you carry it to your dorm?" He asked, his voice calm.