Before Elara could voice any further concerns, Damon closed his eyes, his expression one of intense concentration. The change came more gradually than when he had fought off her attackers. A controlled transformation rather than an explosive one.
His features sharpened, becoming more angular, more predatory. His hands extended into claws, and when he opened his eyes, they blazed with that now familiar golden light. He did not complete the shift. Remaining recognizably Damon. But the wolf was clearly present, visible in his posture. His movements. His aura of contained power.
"Now," he said, his voice deeper, rougher. "Try to quiet him."
Elara hesitated, uncertain what melody to choose for such a specific purpose. Then, instinctively, she found herself humming a tune she did not recognize. Something that seemed to rise from deep within her. From the same place that the ancient Siren words had emerged after her vision.
As the melody took shape, she added her voice, still wordless but powerful. The pendant at her throat began to warm against her skin, responding to the song. She focused her intent clearly: Rest. Be still. The man is in control, not the wolf.
The effect was far more dramatic than she had anticipated. Damon dropped to one knee. His golden eyes became wide with shock. His partially shifted features began to revert to human form immediately, the claws retracting, the predatory angles softening. Within seconds, he was fully human again, staring at her with an expression of disbelief.
"That was," he began, then stopped, seemingly at a loss for words.
"Did I hurt you?" Elara asked anxiously, taking a step toward him.
"No," he assured her, rising to his feet. "It was not painful. Just overwhelming. Like my wolf was suddenly wrapped in the softest blanket, convinced to sleep rather than forced."
The description was reassuring. Not painful, not violating. Just persuasive in a gentle way.
"Let us try once more," Damon suggested. "I will be more prepared this time."
Again, he partially shifted, bringing his wolf to the surface. Again, Elara sang the strange melody that seemed to come from some ancestral memory. This time, however, she noticed something new. A resonance between her voice and some quality in Damon that she could not quite define. It was as if her voice found a matching frequency in him, creating a harmony that amplified her intent.
The pendant grew warmer, pulsing with her heartbeat. The melody strengthened, becoming more complex. More powerful. Elara felt a surge of confidence. Of rightness. As if she had been born to sing exactly this song to exactly this wolf.
That is when something changed. The pendant's warmth suddenly blazed into heat, and the melody shifted from her control, becoming something wilder and more ancient. Words in the Siren language spilled from her lips unbidden. The same words from her vision: "Aethel Lyra Sanguis Luna."
Power surged through her, radiating outward in visible waves of silver light. Damon did not just revert to human form. He fell to his knees. Head bowed, in a posture of complete submission. More alarming, from the forest around the clearing came multiple sounds of impact. As if other bodies had fallen to the ground as well.
The electronic equipment at the edges of the clearing began to malfunction. Screens flickering. Speakers emitting high-pitched whines. The weather station sparked visibly before going dark. The very air seemed charged with power. Making Elara's skin tingle and her hair float slightly around her face.
She tried to stop singing, to cut off the flow of power, but the melody had taken on a life of its own. The Siren words repeated, growing louder, echoing through the clearing and into the forest beyond. Trees swayed, though there was no wind. Birds took flight in startled flocks. And from all around came the sounds of whimpering wolves.
Panic seized Elara. This was exactly what she had feared. Losing control. Hurting others. Becoming the monster she had spent years running from. With tremendous effort, she clamped her hands over her mouth. Physically stopping the flow of words.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Slowly, shakily, Damon raised his head. His eyes were wide, and his expression stunned. Around the clearing, several wolves in full shift form lay on their bellies. Whimpering softly. Utterly submissive. They must have been patrolling nearby when her power had surged.
"I am so sorry," Elara whispered, her voice trembling. "I did not mean to. I could not control it."
She backed away, horror building as she saw the effects of her outburst. The equipment around the clearing was destroyed. Smoking. Sparking, or simply dead. The wolves, including Damon, had been forced into submission against their will. This was worse than Chicago, not one man affected, but an entire pack.
"Elara," Damon began, rising unsteadily to his feet. "It is alright. No one is hurt."
But it was not alright. She could see the shock in his eyes, the wariness in his posture. She had violated something fundamental. Forced the Alpha of a werewolf pack to his knees, along with his wolves. The very thing Viktor sought to do with the Blood Moon ritual, she had done accidentally.
"Stay back," she warned, her voice barely above a whisper. "I do not know if I can control it."
Damon took a careful step toward her, hands raised in a calming gesture. "We will figure this out together. This is why we are practicing. To learn control."
But Elara could only see the wolves still cowering at the edges of the clearing. She could only feel the terrifying power that had surged through her without permission. The pendant still burned against her skin, as if eager to release more of whatever had awakened within her.
"I am a monster," she whispered, the words torn from some deep, frightened place inside her. "This is why Sirens were hunted. Why they were feared."
Her legs gave way, and she sank to the ground, trembling with the aftermath of power and fear. The wolves around the clearing were beginning to recover. Some shifting back to human form. Others slinking away into the forest. All gave her a wide berth, their eyes avoiding hers.
Damon approached slowly, crouching before her. Despite his obvious attempt to appear calm, she could see the lingering shock in his eyes, the way his hands trembled slightly.
"Elara," he said gently. "Listen to me. What just happened was not monstrous. It was power, yes, raw and uncontrolled, but not evil. Not monstrous."
She shook her head, unable to accept his reassurance. "You do not understand. I could not stop it. Once it started, it took over completely. I had no control."
"Then we will work on control," he insisted. "Together."
"How?" she demanded, a hint of hysterical laughter in her voice. "How do you control something like this?"
Damon had no answer, and his silence was more damning than any words could have been.
In that moment of quiet, Elara Matthews faced the terrible truth she had tried to deny since learning of her Siren heritage.
She was not just different. She was dangerous. A creature whose voice could dominate the will of others and could force even the strongest Alpha to submit. And as the Blood Moon approached, that power was only growing stronger.
A world where, for the first time, she feared herself more than those who hunted her.