Page 14 of Spellbound and Gagged

And if her thoughts kept drifting to Thaddeus and the look in his eyes when he'd handed her the vial—a mixture of guilt, concern, and something deeper she wasn't ready to name—well, she'd blame that on magical side effects too.

"Just three more days of looking like a garden nymph," she told her reflection as she packed up for the night. "And then it's back to proving that I don't need Thaddeus Shadowspire or his precious orchid nectar to win this competition."

The green tint had faded enough around her fingertips that they were almost back to normal. Progress. She'd take it. And she'd use every ounce of her restored dignity to prove to Thaddeus—and herself—that she didn't need him. No matter what her heart tried to tell her.

Chapter Five

Thaddeus stood in front of his mirror, testing his voice for the tenth time that morning.

"The moonlight orchid blooms only once a year," he said, pleased to hear the words emerge clearly. His voice had returned gradually overnight, first as a raspy whisper when he'd woken before dawn, then strengthening with each passing hour.

The temporary muteness—a side effect of Juno's anti-plant-aphrodisiac spell, no doubt—had finally worn off. He made a mental note to document this particular interaction between defensive and nurturing herbology. The academic implications were fascinating, even if the personal ones were... complicated.

He glanced at the clock. Still early. Plenty of time before classes began.

Across the academy, in his own laboratory, Thaddeus was having a crisis of conscience.

The moonlight orchid nectar sat on his desk, the violet liquid simmering in the test tube. It was beautiful, powerful, and exactly what he needed to create the perfect potion for Brewfest. And yet...

Thaddeus couldn't shake the memory of Juno's face when he'd won the coin toss. The flash of disappointment in her eyes. It had stirred something in him, a feeling he'd thought long buried. Guilt at disappointing Juno. Again.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered, pacing the length of his lab. "I won it fair and square. There's no reason to feel guilty. I had wanted her to come with me after graduation too."

But the guilt persisted, nagging at him like an itch he couldn't scratch. With a frustrated growl, Thaddeus turned back to his workbench. If he couldn't shake it, he'd just have to prove that he deserved the orchid by creating something spectacular.

He should have let her have the orchid.

He should have never let her go.

He should have told her that he never stopped loving her the moment he had come back.

It was too late now.

Was it?

Too late for them?

His eyes drifted to the green remedy bottle on his desk—the one he'd given Juno yesterday. He'd spotted her at breakfast, sitting at the far end of the faculty table. The emerald tint of her skin had already faded considerably, now just a faint mint shade that would likely be gone completely by tomorrow. She'd caught him looking and raised an eyebrow, lifting her teacup in acknowledgment. He'd nodded back, a silent exchange that left him oddly hopeful.

He'd always been drawn to her unconventional approaches, even when he argued against them. Her nurturing methods were so different from his defensive techniques, yet they yielded undeniable results. The department head position was his dream, but watching Juno lose her chance at it...

"Stop this," he scolded himself. "You can't have it both ways."

But couldn't he? The thought struck him suddenly. What if there was a way for both of them to win?

He shook his head. No. There could only be one department head. That was tradition. And he needed that position to validatethe years he'd spent researching, to prove that leaving—leaving her—had been worth it.

"Fuck it." Thaddeus ignored the little voice of his conscience and began gathering ingredients. A measure of moonglow powder, a sprig of nightshade, three drops of starlight essence. He worked with purpose, forcing his thoughts away from how perfect Juno had felt in his arms, like no time at all had passed.

"This will amplify the orchid's properties tenfold," he said aloud, trying to drown out the sounds of her cries of ecstasy that replied in his mind.

He carefully added a petal from the moonlight orchid to his cauldron. The mixture began to glow and pulse with an otherworldly light.

Thaddeus leaned in, watching intently as the potion swirled and shimmered. It was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic. He was so focused on the cauldron that he didn't notice the buildup of magical energy until it was too late.

The potion exploded in a burst of silvery light and glittering dust. Thaddeus was thrown backward, crashing into a shelf of ingredients. Jars and vials rained down around him, adding their contents to the chaos.

When the dust settled, Thaddeus was sitting in a pile of broken glass and spilled potions, covered from head to toe in shimmering, iridescent powder. He blinked, momentarily stunned.

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