Thornhill Academy. Novels & Stories

**RIVERVIEW ACADEMY** The afternoon sun cast warm rays over Riverview Academy’s playground, where a cluster of children laughed and played. Lily, Ethan, and Chloe, the twins, were seated on a bench, swinging their legs and chatting with Sophia as they waited for their parents. Their eyes occasionally flicked to the parking lot, hoping to catch a glimpse of familiar faces arriving to pick them up.

The St. Jude’s Foreign Language Academy was an institution of cold stone and stricter discipline. Located on the outskirts of a city that seemed to forget it existed, the school’s dormitories were hushed hives of high-achieving students. But for the past fortnight, the silence had been punctured by a rhythmic, unsettling sound.

The sleek black SUV glided to a stop before the grand wrought-iron gates of Oakridge Academy, an elite institution secluded amidst the quiet luxury of the valley. My security detail stepped down immediately, moving with silent efficiency to open the car doors for us. Holding Luke securely in my left arm, I stepped into the warm morning air. Standing right at the main entrance was the headmaster, Mr. Vance, his posture stiff with formal respect. "Greetings, Mr. Thorne," the headmaster said, bowing slightly as he extended a hand. "We are deeply honored to welcome you and your family today to Oakridge Academy." Vance turned gracefully toward Aurelia, offering a respectful nod. "Welcome, Mrs. Th

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.

Colton’s tech wizard friend was called Perrin, and within a short period of time, he managed to dig more information in days than I’d managed to in six years. First off, we learned that Revon was taken out of Sawhill Prep just fourteen days after the accident. The databases were hastily updated after that, and his name was taken out of all the online records. How had the Hawthornes been able to do that? Well, it wasn’t quite laid out, but apparently, the Chairman of Athenian Academics, the company which manages Sawhill Preparatory school as well as a bunch of other schools around the country, was an old buddy of Dallas Hawthorne.

He replied with a smile. “Elsa, you’ve been awarded a scholarship to school at the legendary Sheffield Academy.” He said, his tone sounding almost rehearsed. Sheffield Academy, it was like telling me I could now fly. No one in the history of Bulgaria has ever attended Sheffield. There were only six existing academies in the world; Sheffield academy, Bloodstone academy, Gomorrah Academy, Brenton Academy, Spirit Hound Academy, and Luna’s Crest Academy. Werewolves only attend the academy from twenty upwards. We are then taught science and art for two years in which we decide our path. so we are usually groomed and trained at home by our parents till twenty.

We went back to her house and I had dinner with her and Wade and we talked and laughed and had such a good time I didn’t want it to end but Archer had a car waiting for me and I had to get up early for school tomorrow. “So what private school did he choose for you?” Wade asks as he walks me to the door. “Hollingdale,” Wade freezes and grabs my arm. “What’s the matter?” “That’s a very tough campus filled with snobbish kids and rough punishments. Promise me your stick to yourself and stay out of trouble. All in all they do have the best academic programs,” “I always stick to myself. Besides this could help me get into a good college,” Wade nods. “I’ll see you soon baby sister,”

“I know today was tough, but running? That’s a lot. We won’t survive, Mason, I guarantee you.” Mason’s lips part in an argument, and I think of ways to persuade him. Sheila recently got into Shadowspire Royal Academy, a school for royal kids and children of important members of the pack. Aunt Helen has been trying to get Sheila into the academy since she turned eighteen last year, but she only succeeded this summer. If Maeve ends up being chosen as Prince Brynne’s mate, she’ll automatically be joining her elder sister there.

But the thought of leaving, of breathing air that didn't smell like Kazimir or even risk running into him and seeing his stupid face was too tempting. "Fine," I said. "Let's go." --- The academy was called Blackthorn Academy. It was nestled in a valley between mountains, all gray stone and arched windows and sprawling green fields. The gates were iron, elaborate, engraved with wolves in mid-leap. The grounds were immaculate. I felt grossly underdressed. I had picked up a pair of jeans and a shirt. I should have at least done a little bit better. Or wore a nice dress, I thought. One of those new dresses in the closet courtesy of Kazimir.

This time her wealthy stepmother had finally snapped and shipped her off to the most exclusive, most secretive all-girls finishing academy in the country. But this wasn’t any ordinary finishing school. Blackthorn Academy specialized in one thing only: turning rebellious young women into perfectly obedient, highly skilled submissives. Riley scoffed under her breath as she stared up at the grand gothic building. Tall stone walls covered in ivy, arched windows, and an atmosphere that screamed old money and darker secrets. She had heard the rumors, of course. Whispers about girls who went in wild and came out elegantly broken, dripping with discipline and wet for commands.