Moth to A Flame

"My son,

As I sit in this cell, my thoughts are constantly of you and our family. The accusations against me have brought great pain and suffering, not just to me, but to all of us. I want you to know that I am innocent of the charges…"

Kay's fingers traced the edge of the aged paper, the ink smudged in places where his father's hand faltered. He had read these words a thousand times. He could recite them from memory, but still, he carried the letter folded neatly, pressed against his heart like a wound that refused to heal.

"Even if I do not make it out, you must. You must remember who you are, what our name truly means. And one day, you must make them pay for what they have done."

A slow smirk curled at the corner of Kay's lips as he tucked the letter back into his coat pocket. He didn't need to look at it anymore. It was just the same words over and over again. But still, it was the last thing his father had left him. And that… that was something Kay would never forget.

His eyes lifted to the grand ceremonial hall, glowing orbs casted ominous shadows over the sea of fresh academy recruits. They were nothing but a blur of faces, meaningless bodies filling space. But Kay wasn't here for any of them.

He was looking for one person.

Skyleen Winters

The daughter of the man who had condemned his father to die.

And there she was, standing at the edge of the room, retreating into the shadows as though she could hide from him.

How quaint.

Kay's boots echoed through the marble hall as he took a deliberate step forward. Each footfall was a slow warning, a countdown to what was about to come. He wanted her to hear him coming.

He wanted her to feel it.

 ***************

The hall was too bright, too grand, too suffocating.

I stood at the edge of the room, back straight, my expression carefully neutral.

My father had always told me a Winters is not seen. A Winters commands.

But right now?

I didn't feel like I commanded anything.

The air shifted, subtle, like the approach of a storm. A tension cold, undeniable ran through me. And then I felt it.

Him.

Kay...

I forced myself to turn, and there he was, weaving through the crowd with the slow, predatory confidence of someone who already knew the ending of the story.

His uniform was crisp, his coat unbuttoned just enough to suggest he didn't care about the rules, but he never had. He was not a student here.

He was my superior.

Of course.

Because life had a sense of humor. And apparently, so did the gods.

His dark eyes met mine, and the smirk that pulled at his lips was almost... familiar. Like a wolf baring its teeth.

"Well," his voice slid through the air, smooth like silk wrapped around steel, "if it isn't the prodigal daughter."

I rolled my eyes. "Kay. I see you've lost none of your charm probably because you never had any to begin with."

The smirk deepened as he stepped closer. Too close.

His presence was oppressive, like the weight of the air before a storm. I could feel the edges of the room closing in around me. But I couldn't move. Not now. Not when his gaze pinned me like a butterfly on a board.

"Harsh," he murmured, tilting his head, dark amusement glinting in his gaze. "But then, I wouldn't expect anything less from you. You do take after your father, after all."

I froze. The knife twisted deeper, just as it always did. My father. The man who had destroyed his family.

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to keep my expression neutral. Don't let him see it. Don't let him win.

"Funny," I said coolly, my voice thick with ice. "I was about to say the same about you. A bit dramatic, constantly circling people like you're deciding whether to kill them or kiss them."

Kay's smirk deepened, slow and sharp. "Who says I don't enjoy both?"

A slow, insidious heat curled at the base of my spine. Damn him.

He was infuriating. Arrogant. Impossible.

And yet…

I crossed my arms, pushing away the unsettling feeling in my chest. "That's not intimidating, Kay. It's just creepy."

He laughed, low and dark, his voice wrapping itself around me like a thread I couldn't escape. "Is that what you tell yourself? That you're not afraid of me?"

My pulse quickened, but I held his gaze, steady, unwavering. "I don't fear you."

He leaned in, close enough that his breath was warm against my ear. "You should."

A shiver licked down my spine before I could stop it.

Damn him.

He was always in control. And worse, he knew how to make me feel it.

I forced a smirk, tilting my chin up in defiance. "Is this the part where you make some grand threat? Tell me my days are numbered? Because if so, I'd appreciate a schedule - my calendar's getting full."

Kay chuckled, stepping back just enough to give me space but not enough to let go. "Oh, Skyleen," he murmured, shaking his head as though I were the most amusing thing he'd seen all day. "You think this is a game. But soon enough, you'll realise…"

His fingers brushed against my wrist - light, fleeting, a jolt of sensation.

"…you're already playing."

And then he turned, walking away like he hadn't just unraveled something inside me.

I exhaled sharply, my fingers curling into fists at my sides.

Damn him.

My eyes followed him as he disappeared into the crowd, joining a group of figures draped in all black,their presence sharp, unsettling.

The Dark Science Guild.

They moved like shadows, their whispers curling through the air like smoke. I didn't need to hear them to know what they were discussing.

This was war.

Our families had drawn their battle lines long ago.

And Kay Grimes had just reminded me exactly where we stood.

Even if, for a single, reckless second…

I wished we stood somewhere else.

I forced myself to turn away, to focus on the ritual that loomed ahead—the trial that would either prove my worth or shatter my name forever. The academy was alive with preparations, and I knew my place was among the chosen. But still, a nagging question clawed at the back of my mind: What was Kay's role in all of this?