After all the babies went home and the hallways fell silent, Alina stood quietly at the classroom door, letting out a long sigh she had been holding in for hours. Her shoulders slumped slightly, and her fingers brushed through her now-messy hair. It was only her second day here… and it already felt like she had lived a whole week.
From flooded dining halls to baby dragons and bat boys, to a terrifyingly attractive principal who gave her goosebumps just by existing–she had seen it all in one day.
Still, somehow, she had managed.
She gathered her things and walked through the quiet hallways of the academy. Her footsteps echoed softly on the floors. There were no voices, no chatter—just silence.
The kindergarten was oddly empty during the evenings. She had learned that most staff didn't actually stay here. Only a few lived in the upper floors of the main building—usually staff or night watchmen. The rest of the teachers and workers came in the morning and left before sunset.
As for Alina, she was the only one assigned to live on the edge of the campus, in the small teacher's house behind the east wing. It was a charming place with an arched roof, flower vines creeping up the walls, and a round door like something from a picture book.
She opened the door and stepped inside. The cozy living room greeted her, and she immediately turned on the light. The soft glow illuminated the small, neat space. She pulled out her phone and noticed the unread notification again—the one she had received during her last class. It was from the principal.
Her thumb hovered before tapping it open.
"Miss Hart. For your own safety, do not leave your residential quarters after sunset. The surrounding forest is heavily warded and unpredictable at night. Do not test its boundaries."
The tone was cold, precise, and slightly terrifying, very much like him.
Alina swallowed hard.
"I'm not about to end up as some ghost story," she muttered as she locked her bedroom door and pulled the curtains tight.
She sat down, kicked off her shoes, and stared at her phone. There were no messages—except one missed call from her aunt earlier, which made her heart ache a little.
She hadn't told them where she was teaching.
They believed she had gotten a nice, normal job at a regular kindergarten. She couldn't explain that her students sometimes turned into dragons, bats, shadows, or puddles of water depending on their moods.
***
Alina was exhausted.
After such a long, unpredictable day, all she wanted was a little peace. She stepped into the warm, quiet bathroom and took a long, hot shower. The water trickled down her back, easing the tension in her shoulders. The steam curled around her face as she closed her eyes, letting the quiet fill her chest. She didn't rush—just stood there, breathing slowly, letting the warmth soothe her aching body.
Once she changed into comfortable nightwear, she padded barefoot into the small kitchen. The cottage was silent, save for the faint ticking of the wall clock and the gentle hum of the refrigerator. She wasn't in the mood for anything fancy, so she prepared a simple meal—rice, some sautéed vegetables, and a little soup. It wasn't much, but it felt warm and filling.
She sat at the small table, alone, eating quietly. No one to talk to. No sounds except the soft clink of her spoon.
After she finished, she washed the dishes slowly, drying each one before placing it back neatly. Her routine was simple, but it gave her a sense of relief after such a chaotic day.
Later, she curled up on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She glanced over messages, re-read her class schedule for tomorrow, and checked the school app for any updates. Her head was throbbing faintly now—a dull ache spreading behind her eyes, probably from everything that happened.
She sighed, placed her phone on the side table, and rubbed her temples. No more thinking. No more planning.
Just sleep.
She dimmed the lights, climbed into her soft bed, and pulled the blanket close. The room was quiet, shadows soft against the walls. Outside, the forest whispered in the wind but inside her house, it was warm and safe.
Alina closed her eyes, letting herself drift.
***
Next morning, the sky outside was a pale grey-blue, soft sunlight filtering through the window as Alina stood in front of the mirror. She wore a simple light yellow dress that gently hugged her frame and made her look fresh and bright—like spring itself had taken human form. Her deep hazel eyes stared back at her, a little tired but calm, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself a soft smile.
She picked up her wooden brush and slowly combed through her chestnut-brown hair. The strands glided under her fingers, falling gently over her shoulders.
In the early morning, before even the sky fully brightened, she had baked a fresh batch of cookies. The soft scent of vanilla and chocolate still lingered faintly in her small kitchen. She didn't know why exactly—maybe she wanted to surprise the kids later, or maybe it was just something to keep her calm. Either way, she gently placed the cookies into a small box and tucked it safely into her bag.
After double-checking her schedule and grabbing her things, she stepped out of her quiet little house. The path to the principal's office felt a little too silent, the chill in the air brushing against her arms.
When she reached the tall, dark door of his office, she paused for a breath, adjusted the strap of her bag, then knocked.
There was a pause, and then she heard that same low, cold voice from inside.
"Come in."
Her hand gripped the handle for a second, and she slowly opened the door, stepping into the office.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Alina took a deep breath and stepped forward, but the moment her eyes landed on him, she nearly forgot how to breathe. Principal Dante Nightshade was standing by the tall window, the pale morning light casting shadows across his sharp features. His coat was draped loosely over his shoulders, sleeves rolled just enough to expose his sculpted forearms, and his black shirt hugged his broad frame.
Her eyes drifted—just for a moment—lower than they should have.
God, why is he so ridiculously hot this early in the morning?
She instantly looked away, cheeks warming, but it was too late.
Without even turning fully to face her, he spoke, his voice low and sharp as a blade. "My eyes are up, Miss Alina."
Her soul left her body for a second.
She stood frozen like someone just caught peeking into the devil's diary.
"I—I wasn't looking!" she blurted, way too fast. "I mean—I was! But not there—I mean—not like that—I'm sorry!" she fumbled, horrified at how fast her dignity had left the room.