Thorne 
I quickened my steps down the blue ltiled corridor, my shoes tapping lightly against the polished floor. At the end of the hall stood a dark oak door, imposing yet familiar. The president had summoned me, and I had a feeling it was either about the greenhouse incident or the upcoming exam results set to be released next week.
"You called?" I asked as I stepped inside.
Magnus Callahan, the 10th president of Hipocralis Academy, stood by the large window, hands clasped behind his back. His white hair and beard were sharply contrasted by his gray vest and perfectly knotted tie. Though in his sixties, he carried himself with the sharpness and poise of a younger man. Renowned as one of the finest doctors in the realm, his presence was both intimidating and commanding.
"Ackerman, I knew you’d come," he said with a small smile, stepping toward his desk. He poured a glass of wine and handed it to me, a gesture that hinted at both formality and familiarity.
"I’ve heard about the incident yesterday at the greenhouse," Callahan said, taking a measured sip from his glass.
I wasn’t surprised. Blackwell would’ve reported the event it was protocol. The president always wanted detailed accounts of anything out of the ordinary, especially when it involved the academy’s students.
"Blackwell called it a mistake? An accident?" he asked, his tone laced with skepticism.
"Carelessness," I replied sharply. "Employees and teachers should know the full moon dates by now. They're fully aware of the consequences if this ever happens again," I said, my frustration simmering beneath the surface.
"Still, You rescued a student, even though you were well aware of the danger," he continued, his tone steady but probing.
"That’s correct," I replied simply. "Blackwell’s team was taking too long. I acted on instinct—and adrenaline."
He hummed, nodding slightly. "I didn’t think you had that in you, Ackerman," he said, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
"She was my top student. It’s only natural to be concerned," I said, my voice even.
"I see," was all he said in response, his expression giving nothing away.
Callahan set his glass down and straightened. "On another note, the exam results will be out next week. I’m assigning you to manage the clinical experiences for the students who pass. Your clinic is a model for excellence in this realm."
"Understood," I said with a nod.
I hesitated briefly before asking, "If I may, sir—have you considered Glacierbrook Village for the community placements? My students could benefit from the experience, and the reports indicate the village is in dire need of medical assistance."
Callahan considered my words, swirling the wine in his glass thoughtfully. "It’s a strong possibility. The village does need both knowledge and care. I’ll make a decision soon and inform you."
I nodded again, taking a final sip of the bittersweet wine before setting the empty glass on his desk.
"That’s all for now. Thank you for your time, Ackerman," Callahan said, his tone signaling the end of our conversation.
I bowed slightly in acknowledgment, then turned and walked out, the sound of the door clicking shut behind me.
Only a few months left before I could visit the village again. The thought lingered as I made my way through the halls, heading to the office to collect my things.
As I passed through the hallway, something caught my eye.
Pale skin, white curls—delicate, like snowflakes swirling in a storm.
Zaira.
It's been just a day, she's supposed to be resting for now and yet she was laughing, her voice soft and melodic, and next to her was Keegan.
I kept my composure as I approached them, but my chest tightened. Keegan noticed me first, his brows raising slightly.
"Good morning, Professor," he greeted with a polite nod.
"Good morning," I replied, my voice calm but my gaze sharp. Why the hell was he making her laugh on a morning like this?
Keegan smiled, seemingly unbothered. "Well, I’ve got to run still need to grab a few things from my locker." He glanced at Zaira one last time before walking away.
"Heading to class, Professor? I’m not late," Zaira said, tilting her head with a teasing smile.
"I am," I said, my voice measured. "Why are you still here in the hallway?"
She shrugged, still smiling. "Caden and I were just chatting about the upcoming results."
"You don’t have time to waste on idle chatter," I said firmly. "You have 25 minutes to get to class."
She raised an eyebrow. "I told you, I’m not late. And 25 minutes is way too early."
Her confidence was disarming, and for a moment, I was caught off guard. No one spoke back to me like that. No one except her.
"You have 25 minutes to march to class, or I’ll punish you," I said, my tone steady and unyielding. "You wouldn’t want that, would you, Flower?"
Her brows furrowed, her lips parting slightly in confusion. "Flower?" she repeated, the word hanging in the air between us.
She was captivating, standing there with her light blue eyes fixed on mine, unafraid. She reminded me of a flower blooming in the middle of chaos—delicate, yet bold.
"March, Flower," I said, my voice dropping an octave.
She narrowed her eyes. "You know, for a professor, you’re—ugh!" Her frustration spilled out, and she spun on her heel, marching down the hall.
I chuckled softly as she stormed off, her cheeks flushed pink with irritation.
Good girl
I followed her into the classroom. The students were already seated, Zaira among them. She had been right—it was still early. But seeing her with Keegan had grated on me, a feeling I couldn’t shake.
The tension in my chest lingered as I took my place at the front of the room. Part of me wanted to let it go, but another part of me felt darker and wanted to burn that hallway down.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
Minutes later, I started the class and assigned a group activity. My eyes instinctively wandered toward Zaira’s direction, and sure enough, she was paired with Keegan. Why on earth did she pick him as her partner? My blood simmered, but I kept my cool.
"P-Professor..."
She looked stunned. Surprised. Confused, I turned to the student beside me. Her lips quivered as she pointed at her crumpled notebook.
"What the hell..." I muttered under my breath, taking the notebook from her. 
"I’m sorry. I’ll check it. You may leave."
She nodded quickly and walked away, but I couldn’t help noticing Zaira laughing at something Keegan said. What was so funny? Why did he get to make her laugh? I could make her laugh, too, if I wanted to.
"Professor, someone’s looking for you," one of the students said, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I stood and walked toward the door, where a woman was waiting. Curly black hair pulled into a ponytail, hazel eyes sharp as a blade—Astrid Blackwell Dali, Blackwell's sister. She had married into one of the Supreme families three years ago and had since taken on a role in securing the Academy.
"Astrid," I greeted her. She wouldn’t be here unless there was something important about the village.
"Forgive me for disturbing your class," she said with a small nod.
"Skip the formality. I’m guessing you’ve got some news for me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She smirked. "A decent greeting would be nice, Ackerman," she said with a teasing sigh.
"Anyway, we've been tracking reports of bandits in the area. They usually target the mountains, but now it seems they’re shifting toward the forests. The Academy has tightened security in response to obvious threats to the village," she explained.
"I need to report this to the President as well. The village lacks knowledge of medical care. They rely on superstitions, and they have no idea how to handle sicknesses or pregnancies," she continued.
"Superstitions?" I asked, intrigued.
She nodded. "They call it the 'Winter Fairy.' They believe they were cursed by it years ago. Bandits burned their village, took children, stole crops, and money," Astrid added.
"Iron Fangs. That’s what they call them," Astrid finished.
"You’ve been a great help," I said, grateful for the information.
She smirked. "It’s not free, you know."
My brow furrowed. "What do you want?"
She leaned in, her grin widening. "You need to be the best uncle for my child," she said.
I froze, blinking at her.
"You’re pregnant?" I asked, caught off guard.
She nodded. "I won’t be able to come with you to the village. My husband is too worried about what might happen to me. I’ve assigned someone to help, but I’ll visit when I can," she explained.
"I understand," I said, accepting the reality.
"I’ll update you soon, Ackerman," she added, giving me a brief nod before walking away. The students watched her as she left.
She was undeniably captivating—perhaps that was why her husband was so drawn to her.
As I prepared to return to class, I was surprised to see Zaira standing near the door.
"What are you doing?" I asked, my suspicion rising. Was she spying on me?
She immediately handed over a piece of paper, her eyes distant, almost cold.
"Here’s our paper, Professor," she said, turning on her heel and heading back to her seat.
I took the paper from her, watching her retreat with furrowed brows. There was something off about her today.
Sighing, I began collecting the remaining work from the students. The class was winding down, and I dismissed them as time ran out.
Later, back home, I sought out Butler J for an update on the village. His report confirmed everything Astrid had said.
"My Lord, the spy you assigned to the village sent me a map," Butler J said, handing me the detailed document.
The map showed potential routes and strategies. My plan was beginning to take shape—risky, but necessary. I’d ensure their safety, but I would use them for my own purpose. It wasn’t a problem; it wouldn’t hurt.
"I see, thank you," I replied, my voice low with focus.
He bowed and left my office. As I sat alone, the taste of revenge lingered on my tongue—bitter, yet undeniably satisfying. The thought of making them pay, for everything they had done to me when I was younger, made my heart race.
"I got you now."
My mother loved the winter. She always wore elegant coats and dresses, her dark hair framing her face, her rosy cheeks and full lips a stark contrast to the cold.
We had been set to visit my grandmother’s house for the holidays, and I had eagerly looked forward to it.
Until…
The only memory I had left was of blood staining their lifeless bodies, my mother bruised and beaten.
I hated her for hiding me away in the woods during that cold winter. I hated myself for not being able to save them. They had been tortured, their suffering imprinted on my soul.
This nightmare had left me with nothing but rage and hatred for the winter snow. Revenge and curses were the only things that drove me now.
                                 Zaira
After class, I immediately went to join the girls for lunch. Thorne on the other hand, I take back what I said yesterday about him. He is definitely the same guy that the rumors told me.
I'd heard the rumors about the lady who came to our classroom earlier. It was no surprise that so many men were captivated by her—she had that effect. Her curly hair, fierce aura, and hourglass figure were impossible to ignore.
"What's with all the rumors today?" Stella asked, looking between us.
"Astrid Dali's back from a mission. I met her while I was running errands for Seth," Callista explained.
"Oh, she's back? I heard her brother’s Blackwell, but they’re pretty different," Ainsley added.
Stella nodded. "I can see some similarities. Blackwell’s been keeping tabs on me for a while, at my family’s request."
"At least Blackwell’s hot," Callista chimed in with a grin.
"Don’t be ridiculous, he's way too old for you," Stella shot back, rolling her eyes.
Callista smirked. "Well, hot daddies like him are worth it."
Stella stared at Callista, clearly disgusted. "I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear that."
"What do you think, Zai? I heard she went to your class," Stella asked, her voice soft.
I snapped back to reality, realizing they were all waiting for me. "She's… pretty," I said, a bit distracted.
"She was talking with the professor. They seemed... close," I added quietly.
"What were they talking about?" Ainsley asked, her curiosity piqued.
"I don’t know, but it seemed serious. The professor mentioned something that sounded kind of happy, so I think it’s important," I replied, poking a cherry tomato with my fork.
"Oh, I smell something off here," Callista said with a mischievous smile.
"What do you mean?" Ainsley asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It seems our gorgeous friend—Zaira looks like she's jealous" Callista teased, leaning in closer.
My eyes widened in surprise. "Callista, don’t start with that nonsense. I’m not jealous!" I protested, my face flushing.
"Why would I be jealous?" I asked, more to myself than anyone.
It doesn't matter Thorne is happy with a beautiful woman with a curvy body. It's his life after all to choose someone who is deserving in his life. Not my problem
Callista just shrugged, her grin never wavering. "Looks like it to me," she teased.
I heard Ainsley and Stella laughing softly, then glanced at them. They quickly cleared their throats, trying to hide their amusement.
"Listen, hon, I get it if you're into him. I even think he's a hottie," Callista said with a wink.
"Well, I assure you, I don’t get jealous," I replied, trying to maintain my composure.
Callista shrugged, unfazed. "You asked for it," she said, about to say more when suddenly, someone appeared in front of us.
The man standing there wore a uniform similar to Callista's, his perfectly styled hair and muscular build creating an undeniable air of confidence. His thick arms were crossed over his chest, and his russet brown eyes, narrowed in focus, were locked on Callista. 
Callista raised an eyebrow, her expression changed, looking so fierce and unbothered. 
"What are you doing here?" she asked, crossing her own arms in defense.
"I've looked everywhere for you," he replied, his voice sharp, as cold as crystal.
"I'm on break and if you're here to add more to my workload, I’m out," she shot back.
"I need to talk to you," he said, his tone not softening in the slightest.
"Couldn’t you wait?" Callista sighed, clearly irritated.
He glanced at us before letting out a resigned sigh. "Fine, I'll expect you in an hour," he said, turning to walk away.
The girls watched him leave with obvious admiration, as if he was the campus heartthrob everyone adored.
"What was that all about?" Stella asked, raising an eyebrow.
Callista sighed, leaning back in her chair, then took a sip from her juice box. "Forget about that guy, I'm sure it will all be about the research that our professor proposed. And he's hooked up" she said, falling silent.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It felt like they were quarreling like lovers, but I didn’t know Callista well enough to be sure. Still, it was clear there was more to their interaction than met the eye.