He looked at me for confirmation. I nodded encouragingly. “It’s part of what I wanted to show you. Trust me.”
That was all it took. He accepted the bottle and downed its contents in one gulp. For a moment, nothing happened. Then his eyes widened, clarity slowly returning to them as the magical fog lifted from his mind.
“What the...” he muttered, blinking rapidly. “Where am I? What happened?”
“You were affected by… strange magic,” Nurse O’Malley explained matter-of-factly. “There was a new type of magical instrument being tested and you happened to hear it and became enchanted.”
The werewolf’s eyes snapped to me, recognition dawning alongside embarrassment. “I... oh gods. Did I say I was in love with you?”
I nodded, relieved that the potion had worked so quickly. “Among other things. Don’t worry about it.” I glanced up at O’Malley, following her lead that graciously left my heritage out of this. “Nothing came of it.”
“I’ll need to examine you to make sure there are no lingering effects,” Nurse O’Malley told him. “Musical enchantments can sometimes leave residual magical signatures.”
As she began her examination, I edged toward the door, eager to make my escape. The last thing I needed was to be present for the awkward aftermath.
“Nerion,” Nurse O’Malley called, stopping me in my tracks. “You are free to go. The Dean will reach out to you in the next couple of days.” I started to turn when she spoke again. “And no more…music.”
I just nodded, hanging my head in shame. “Yes ma’am.” Then I added, “And thank you.”
She nodded, that stern look still plastered on her face as always, before going back to her patient. I let myself out, heading back toward the dorms immediately.
The night air felt cold against my skin as I left the health center. My stomach churned with anxiety. The Dean would be reaching out to me. That was never good news, especially for someone like me. He was an understanding man, but this wasn’t my first offense.
Being a siren was one thing, but accidentally endangering students could get me removed from the academy. Or worse, land me in front of the Elder Council.
That was the last thing I needed.
Chapter 7
Nerion
The dorm was quiet as I trudged up the stairs, still irritated about the whole debacle with the werewolf. Clearly someone in the music department was lying about the rooms being soundproof. That or the one I was in had been damaged in some way. I’d never had an issue before.
I fished my key from my pocket, dreading the talk I’d have with the Dean in a few days. It would be a lecture about responsibility, about the dangers of my voice, and all the same warnings I’d heard a thousand times before. As if I didn’t already know the risks better than anyone.
When I opened the door, I was surprised to find Linden already there, sitting cross-legged on his bed surrounded by what looked like plant matter and twigs.
“There you are!” he said, looking up with a bright smile that faded the moment he saw my face. “Whoa, what happened? You look pissed. Did you find out they closed down the pool for the weekend?”
“What?!” I barked. Apparently today was just not going to be my day. “Fuckin’ great,” I muttered, dropping my bag and collapsing onto my bed.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“Wanna tell me what happened?” Linden pushed.
I let out a long sigh, turning my head just enough so my face wasn’t jammed into the pillow anymore. “I was in one of the soundproof rooms in the music building and accidentally enchanted a werewolf. Had to take him to Nurse O’Malley to get him un-enchanted. The Dean’s going to want to see me.”
Linden winced. “Shit. I thought those rooms were supposed to be completely sealed?”
“Yeah. So did I.” I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends in frustration. “The guy was convinced I was his mate. Started professing his undying love right there in the hallway.”
“At least you got him help quickly,” Linden offered, always trying to find the silver lining. “And no one else was enchanted, right?”
“Yeah,” I sighed, rolling onto my back to stare at the ceiling. “Small mercies.”
I watched as Linden carefully wove together what looked like bark and twigs, his fingers moving with practiced precision. He hummed softly as he worked, a gentle melody that made the materials seem to bend more willingly to his touch. Unlike my voice, his magic was nurturing, creating rather than compelling.