“It’s the truth,” I insisted. “And if you come home with me, I can prove it.”
Elder Calaxos nodded, holding out her hand. “If you can provide evidence, the Council will hear your case.”
I took her hand, her strength surprising as she easily pulled me to my feet. “But first, I need to go back to Widdershins. I need to find Nerion before he runs.” I turned to Elder Brina. “And you need to revoke his expulsion.”
Elder Brina looked irritated that some twenty-one-year-old witch should be giving her orders. But when she looked to Elder Calaxos, I could see the acknowledgement in her eyes.
“Come,” Elder Calaxos said, pulling me toward one of the chamber doors. “We have much to do and little time. If your parents catch wind of this, they will run. And witches of their stature are notoriously hard to track.”
“Don’t worry,” I growled, feeling the fury building deep in my belly. “I’ll make sure you get them.”
Chapter 27
Nerion
Istared at the sketch of Teddy in my sketchbook. It was from one of those many nights we’d spent together. At dawn, the light had been playing across his features in a way that was too beautiful to ignore. I’d sketched him quickly in charcoal, capturing the gentle curves and harsh edges of his face in the light. He looked so peaceful, so happy, and so…perfect.
And now I’d never see him again.
Tears slipped down my cheeks silently, heralding in the grief that was already threatening to consume me. But this was for the best, right? If Teddy thought I was a monster, then he wouldn’t come looking for me. If he thought I’d enchanted him against his will, then he wouldn’t mourn the loss of our arrangement. Because that’s all it was… an arrangement.
But I’d carry this with me for the rest of my life. This thing between us that was almost something special. Because, let’s face it, it was the closest I was ever going to get to the real thing. There would never be another man like Teddy and I would never come this close to giving my heart away again.
I’d make sure of it.
Wiping away the tears, I closed the sketchbook and pushed it into my backpack. All I’d taken were a few charcoals, an eraser,a photo of me and my parents, and the sketchbook. As I looked around the room, I realized there was nothing else important to me there. Not my books, my school work, or even my clothes. Where I was going, I wouldn’t need them.
“I’m ready,” I said at last, shouldering the bag.
“Are you sure you don’t want to pack more of your things?” Dean Thornfield asked, his brows knit together. “What about your work in the art building?”
“Keep it. Donate it. Burn it. I don’t care.” I stood there for a moment, letting the feeling of hopelessness was through me. “Nothing matters anymore,” I mumbled, avoiding the Dean’s concerned gaze.
Dean Thornfield sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging with what looked like genuine regret. “Mr. Thalassos—Nerion—I want you to know that I fought against this decision. The Elder Council overruled me completely.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I repeated, staring at the floor. What was the point in fighting? I’d lost Teddy. I’d lost my place at this school. Soon, I’d lose everything else too.
“Your paintings are quite remarkable,” Dean Thornfield said quietly. “I’d hate to see that talent wasted.”
I shrugged, the weight of my decision pressing down on me harder than my near-empty backpack. “What’s the point? They’re just... paintings.”
The Dean sighed, his normally stern face softening with genuine concern. “Where will you go, Nerion? Do you have family you can stay with?”
“You know I don’t,” I replied flatly. “Just… let me leave a note for Linden. If I don’t, he’ll worry.”
The Dean nodded, letting me stop at the desk for a moment and hastily scribble a note to Linden.
Got expelled for enchanting Teddy. I didn’t. But you can’t ever tell him that. It’s better this way.
Thank for being my friend.
-Nerion
“There,” I said, folding the note and leaving it on Linden’s desk. “Let’s go.”
We walked in silence through the empty corridors of the dormitory. Most students were out, enjoying the last night of their weekend before classes started. And honestly, it was probably for the best. The last thing I wanted was to face curious stares or whispered questions. I couldn’t bear to run into any of my classmates, especially Linden, who would demand explanations I didn’t have the strength to go through right now.
When we reached the main entrance, Dean Thornfield paused, his hand on the door. “This isn’t right,” he said, almost to himself. “The Elder Council is making a mistake.”