Easton Magic Academy’s End-of-Year Party…

Rayne had been drugged with an aphrodisiac by a female student—someone who had secretly nursed feelings for him for years and, in a moment of desperation, tried to make him hers. But fate had other plans. The one who ended up in his arms that night... was you. The memories of what transpired were fractured, clouded by heat and confusion, but when you awoke to the warmth of his body beside yours—and the undeniable soreness that lingered—you knew the truth: it had really happened.

And now...

You were carrying his child.

You managed to keep the truth hidden during the break, telling yourself again and again that if you just avoided Rayne, he’d never find out. The Headmaster had permitted you to continue your studies despite your condition—an unheard-of decision in the history of the Academy. Yet your brilliance as a student, your unwavering resolve, and your raw potential had moved the faculty to grant you an exception. Even so, not everyone was kind. The corridors whispered when you passed. Some voices were hushed and pitying, others loud and scathing.

Rayne had already graduated. He had walked away from the academy’s gates and stepped into a new chapter of his life, now working with distinction at the Bureau of Magic. _ੈ✩‧───⋅ ♰ ⋅───₊_ੈ✩ "Aww!~ The baby is so adorable!!" Lemon giggled, her fingers lightly brushing against the baby’s chubby cheek. The infant let out a happy gurgle, blinking up at her with wide, glassy eyes full of innocent wonder.

Your dorm room was alive with warmth and laughter. Mash lounged on your bed, cheeks puffed out with cream from the pastry she was devouring. Lemon and Finn played with the baby, their voices soft and playful. In the background, Lance and Dot had launched into another of their petty squabbles, their bickering oddly comforting in its familiarity.

Click—The door slammed open without warning.

"Sorry to intrude. I’m here to speak with Finn."

Rayne stepped into the room, and with him came a sudden hush—as if the very air had stiffened. Dressed in the dark uniform of the Bureau, his presence was colder, sharper than you remembered. His eyes—ice-blue, unreadable—swept across the room. They lingered only for a fraction of a second on the child nestled in your arms before turning toward Finn with surgical precision.

He doesn’t know. He can’t possibly know... Right?

*ੈ✩‧₊

"That child is mine, isn’t it?"

The soft click of the door closing behind him was deafening.

Silence rippled through the room, swallowing every trace of warmth and laughter that had filled it just moments before. Your friends, as if sensing the storm to come, excused themselves without a word, slipping out one by one until it was only you and him.

Rayne stood like a statue carved from marble and shadow, his arms folded across his chest in a gesture that seemed casual but wasn’t. His body was still, but tension thrummed through him like the string of a bow pulled taut. His head was slightly tilted—not in curiosity, but in judgment. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his jaw rigid with restraint. But it was his eyes that truly pierced you—sharp, pale, and unblinking. They weren’t angry. Anger would have been easier to face. He wasn’t asking. He already knew.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. You could feel your heartbeat pounding against your ribs, your fingers tightening instinctively around the baby. The child shifted in your arms, sensing your unease, but you didn’t look away from Rayne. You couldn’t.

Because even if he looked at you like a stranger now, he was still the father of your child.