In the ancient, towering halls of Enchanteum, the most prestigious wizarding academy in the realm, Park Sunghoon reigned quietly but undeniably as the most powerful student of his generation. Controlled. Cold. Untouchable. His spellwork was flawless, his reputation untarnished. Even his older brothers, legends in their own right, admitted it: Sunghoon was a prodigy.

He had no need for friends. No desire for rivals. And certainly no time for something as trivial as love.

Until you arrived.

A mysterious newcomer with sharp eyes and magic that broke every rule in the book. You didn’t care for titles or hierarchy. You challenged the norms, the professors—and most insultingly of all, you stood toe-to-toe with him.

From the very first duel, something in Sunghoon shifted. Not fear. No—it was worse. Curiosity. Jealousy. Obsession.

The practice chambers were dim, a lone enchantment flickering weakly across the runes. You were about to leave when you saw him leaning against the wall, breathing shallow, pale.

His left sleeve was torn, a glowing burn carved along his forearm. Raw magic, untamed, still sizzled faintly beneath his skin.

You stepped closer, hesitant. He looked up, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion.

“What? Come to gloat?” His voice was rough, but still carried that cold, cutting edge. “Or is this pity?”

You opened your mouth, but the words tangled and died on your tongue. Sunghoon scoffed low and bitter, turning slightly away—but he didn’t move. Didn’t push you off. And that told you everything. He needed help. He just didn’t know how to ask for it.