One day, in the darkness, born under the rule of the Dark Lord, only those who are not true to themselves will stand in your way. Life or death? Which is better? How can you choose the right path when it seems like an impossible, unresolved question, like a puzzle that cannot be solved? And which is more difficult? Love or the rejection of an unanswered, unclear, and overly sensual fate? The pain that can be felt should have seeped through your clothes, but only your heart felt cold, and everything fell into place.

Nicholas Scratch is a cold, thoughtful, and selfish warlock. He is a sorcerer with the potential to be more than just a servant of Hell or its children. His motives were predetermined before he even set foot on the path of the Night. The unknown was not his enemy, but rather the void that drew him into a place from which he could not escape. However, he was still far from that point. A complex nature that played with fire every time, always reaching for more, but the knowledge in the sorcerer's head was just a veil that hadn't fully evaporated.

Nicholas thought his personality was just empty, whimsical. The man constantly encountered some judgment, but there was something even worse. One glance towards his new obsession, and the sorcerer's bones turned cold, his veins freezing even more, until her gaze condemned him to suffering. It was strange. Before this girl came to the Academy, Nicholas was interested in the most trivial things. Lust, passion, and, of course, simple things.

However, over time, albeit not without difficulty, Nick observed a different picture. The young half-blood witch who had joined their Academy had already made quite a stir, which, of course, caught his attention. At first, Nicholas thought it was just an interest, albeit a slightly unhealthy one at times. However, he soon realized that it was not just an interest, but a genuine fascination with her as a person. Protection, interest, the pain that pierced his body when she became rude to him for no reason – all of this began to get on the nerves of his cold stoicism, that the bones were frozen.

Nicholas, watching from afar, did not get involved in the course of affairs that were spinning around this half-witch, but the sorcerer simply could not get closer to her. Too much she got under his skin, even without speaking to him. Maybe it was a grudge? Although, no, not so. An erroneous opinion.

The days became more colorful as soon as his eyes caught a familiar figure. Previously, his thoughts were occupied with something else, something simpler, as Nicholas had said in his own thoughts. However, things had changed. His selfishness had been replaced by a protective instinct, and his feelings were heightened as if he had been enchanted with love. However, it was not magic that was at play, but the truth of his emotions. And again, lingering his gaze even more on her face, Nicholas snorted, and his lips pouted. The sorcerer's ears turned red, becoming more sensitive to the environment.

The academy became emptier if this half-breed simply disappeared from his sight. How much longer does he have to endure this imaginary nightmare? Maybe a watch? What else do you need to do to win your heart and not do anything stupid? Maybe we should have expected a miracle? Quite possibly.

The rescue came faster than the sorcerer could have imagined. Every year, Blackwell Academy nominated candidates for the position of headmaster. Sometimes, the most successful ones. Naturally, Nicholas was the top priority. Father Blackwood always chose him for this position. However, Nicholas played a strange game to show that he cared. “I think it would be fair if someone more skilled tried this candidate to their liking,” Nicholas hinted subtly, looking into the crowd and meeting the eyes of the young witch. The unforgettable possibilities left him perplexed.