Ananya had always believed her life was ordinary — college lectures, late-night study sessions, and stolen moments of laughter with friends. But everything changed the day Kim Namjoon walked into her world. Tall, strikingly handsome, and carrying... Ananya had always believed her life was ordinary — college lectures, late-night study sessions, and stolen moments of laughter with friends. But everything changed the day Kim Namjoon walked into her world. Tall, strikingly handsome, and carrying an aura of untouchable mystery, Namjoon wasn’t like anyone she had ever met before. His dark, piercing eyes seemed to see through her soul, and his presence made the air itself feel heavier. While others at college were captivated by his charm, Ananya sensed something different — a dangerous darkness lurking beneath his flawless exterior. Drawn to him against her better judgment, Ananya soon finds herself entangled in secrets she can’t escape. Namjoon is not human. He is a demon, cursed to walk among mortals, torn between the shadows of his violent past and the fragile light of love he feels for her. But their forbidden bond comes at a price. The underworld doesn’t forgive betrayal, and loving a human could awaken enemies far more terrifying than either of them imagined. In a world where passion and peril collide, will Ananya’s heart save Namjoon… or destroy her?
Kim namjoon
Hero
Ananya
Heroine
Page 1 of 1
The First Encounter
Ananya’s life had always followed a rhythm so predictable that even the birds outside her window seemed to judge her monotony. College lectures, crowded cafeterias, and late-night study sessions had woven themselves into the fabric of her days. She loved learning, yes, but the repetition of it all sometimes made her feel like she was moving through a dream she couldn’t wake from. Her best friend, Meera, had long given up on trying to drag her to parties or impulsive weekend adventures; she knew Ananya thrived in quiet corners, surrounded by books and the occasional cup of steaming chai.
It was on a Wednesday morning, however, that the rhythm of her life began to falter. Ananya was seated near the back of the lecture hall, notebook open, pen poised, when the murmurs began. Heads turned, whispers rippled across the rows, and the air seemed to change — heavier, charged.
Her gaze followed the sound, settling on him.
Tall. Dark. Impossibly handsome. Kim Namjoon.
He moved with a fluid grace that seemed almost unnatural, as though the world itself made way for him. His black hair fell slightly over a sharp, defined jawline, and his eyes… those eyes. Piercing, dark, almost liquid in their intensity, they scanned the room, resting briefly on each student before flicking away as if no one truly mattered. But when they met Ananya’s, the faintest flicker of recognition—or perhaps interest—sparked.
The entire class seemed to exhale as if collectively realizing they had just encountered someone extraordinary. Some of the girls giggled nervously, whispering his name, while the guys sat straighter, their pride pricked by his effortless magnetism. Ananya, however, felt a shiver run down her spine that had nothing to do with attraction or admiration. There was something… different about him. Something dangerous.
She tried to focus on the lecture, but every word from Professor Mehta blurred into background noise. All she could see was Namjoon. He chose a seat in the middle row, his presence commanding without effort. As he settled, a faint aura seemed to radiate around him — subtle, but intoxicating. And then, without turning, his gaze shifted toward her again.
Ananya’s fingers trembled slightly over her pen. She had read about ‘love at first sight’ in novels and romantic dramas, and she had scoffed at them before. But this—whatever this was—felt entirely different. It wasn’t warmth, or butterflies, or nervous excitement. It was heavier. Electric. Dangerous.
After the lecture ended, the hall emptied quickly, but Ananya found herself walking at the same pace as Namjoon, as if some unseen force nudged her feet forward. She wanted to stop herself, to retreat, but curiosity—and something far older, far stranger—propelled her closer.
“You’re new,” she finally found herself saying, her voice steadier than she felt.
Namjoon turned, his lips curving into a small, almost knowing smile. “Yes,” he said, his voice smooth, low, and magnetic. “And you noticed.”
Ananya’s heartbeat accelerated. There was no arrogance in his tone, no false charm. It was simply… fact. And yet, beneath it, she sensed layers she couldn’t begin to unravel.
“I’m Ananya,” she said cautiously, extending a hand.
He took it. His grip was firm, warm, and yet carried a weight she couldn’t place, as if holding hands with him was touching something not entirely human. “Kim Namjoon,” he replied.
A silence fell between them, and Ananya felt the world narrow. The noise of the bustling campus faded; all that existed was him, and the strange, hypnotic pull that seemed to emanate from his very being. She wanted to ask a thousand questions, but the first one that came to her lips was, “You’re… different. Don’t most students blend into the background?”
He tilted his head slightly, studying her, and for a moment, his gaze pierced deeper than her eyes, as though he could see into her thoughts. “Perhaps I enjoy standing apart,” he said finally. “Or perhaps I don’t belong among those who fade too easily.”
The words sent a shiver down her spine, though she couldn’t explain why. There was something about him, something ancient and profound, that made the air around him feel thick with secrets. Ananya wanted to retreat, to run back to her safe, predictable world, but her feet refused.
Over the next few days, Namjoon became an unavoidable presence in her life. He appeared in the library, often sitting in the shadowed corners, reading books that seemed far too complex for a college student. He walked past her during lunch in the cafeteria, and she could feel his gaze lingering, even when she wasn’t looking.
Ananya’s friends noticed the change in her. “You’re acting weird,” Meera whispered one afternoon as they walked to their dorms. “You’re… distracted, like you’re somewhere else entirely.”
“I’m fine,” Ananya replied, though her mind was anything but. Every encounter with Namjoon left her feeling lightheaded, anxious, and… excited. She couldn’t tell if it was fear or fascination. Perhaps both.
Then came the night that changed everything.
She was walking back from the library after a late study session. The campus was quiet, the streetlamps casting long shadows across the pathway. She felt someone’s eyes on her, and she spun instinctively.
Namjoon was there.
He had been standing in the shadows, silent, watching. The moonlight caught his features just enough to highlight the sharp angles of his face, the intensity of his eyes, and the strange elegance of his posture.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said, his voice carrying an edge that made her heart skip. “It’s dangerous.”
“I… I can handle myself,” she replied, though she felt a chill creeping up her spine.
He stepped closer, the shadows seeming to cling to him, bending and twisting as if alive. “I don’t think you understand,” he said softly. “Not all danger is visible. Some of it… lurks where you cannot see.”
Before she could respond, a sudden cold gust of wind swept past them, and the shadows around Namjoon seemed to stretch unnaturally, flickering like black flames. Ananya’s breath caught. Her rational mind screamed that it was impossible, but her eyes could not deny what they saw. For a brief moment, Namjoon’s form blurred, elongated, and his eyes glowed faintly red. Then, as quickly as it happened, he was normal again — impossibly handsome, unreadable, untouchable.
“You… what are you?” she whispered, fear and awe mingling in her voice.
He gave her a small, enigmatic smile. “I am… someone you are not meant to understand… yet.”
The tension in the air was palpable, and for a moment, Ananya felt the weight of a thousand unseen eyes watching her. She didn’t know if they were real or imagined, but the feeling was unmistakable: the world she thought she knew was no longer safe.
Namjoon extended his hand. “Come with me. I will explain… a little.”
Her heart raced. Part of her screamed to run, to flee back to the safety of her dorm, the predictability of her ordinary life. But something inside her — a dangerous curiosity, a magnetism she could not resist — pulled her forward.
And so, under the cold glow of the streetlamps and the watchful shadows of the night, Ananya stepped closer to him, unaware that the first thread of her ordinary life had already begun to unravel, weaving her into a world of darkness, desire, and danger from which there would be no turning back.
Shadows of the Past
The morning sun spilled over the campus, bathing the walkways and lawns in a golden warmth that should have felt inviting. For Ananya, it felt suffocating. Her heart was still racing from the previous night, and her mind refused to settle. She had tried to convince herself it was a dream — a vivid, impossible dream — but the memory of Namjoon’s dark, piercing eyes and the flicker of red had stayed with her, lingering like a shadow she couldn’t shake.
As she entered the lecture hall, clutching her bag tightly, she felt a familiar pull — subtle, almost magnetic. Her eyes darted around, half-expecting to see him already seated. And there he was.
Namjoon leaned casually against a pillar near the entrance, arms crossed, his expression unreadable, his gaze scanning the students as if they were mere scenery. But then, like a thread tightening around her chest, his eyes met hers.
Her breath caught. He didn’t smile, not immediately, but the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed a quiet amusement. Ananya felt her pulse spike, both nervous and inexplicably drawn toward him.
She tried to focus on her lecture, on the professor’s monotone voice, on anything that could anchor her to normalcy. But her thoughts kept drifting to him — the way he moved, the shadows that seemed to cling to him, the air that felt charged whenever he was near.
During a short break, Ananya found herself walking through the campus courtyard, pretending to check her phone. A sudden shadow fell over her, and she looked up to find Namjoon standing beside her, close enough that she could feel the faint warmth radiating from his body.
“You seem tense,” he said, his voice soft but carrying an undercurrent of something she couldn’t identify.
“I… I’m fine,” she murmured, looking away, though she couldn’t escape his gaze.
He smiled faintly, his eyes narrowing, as if he could read her every thought. “You were thinking about last night,” he said.
Her stomach flipped. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, though she knew she wasn’t convincing him.
Namjoon chuckled softly, the sound low and strangely melodic. “You don’t need to lie. Curiosity is a human trait. And you, Ananya, are far too curious to ignore.”
Her cheeks flushed. How did he know her name? He had said it once, yes, but there was something in the way he spoke it now — possessive, almost claiming.
Before she could respond, a cold gust of wind swept across the courtyard, and for a moment, the shadows around Namjoon seemed to stretch unnaturally, like dark fingers reaching across the ground. Ananya blinked rapidly, her rational mind screaming that it was impossible. But her eyes had seen it.
“You…” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “What… what are you?”
Namjoon’s expression darkened ever so slightly, a shadow crossing his handsome features. “I warned you last night. Not everything is as it seems. Not all danger wears a human face.”
Ananya swallowed hard, her fear mingling with something else — fascination, desire, and an unexplainable connection that went beyond reason.
As the day progressed, Namjoon seemed to appear in unexpected places — the library, the cafeteria, even the courtyard between lectures. Each time, he lingered just long enough to make her heart race, his presence a magnetic force she couldn’t resist. And yet, there were moments when he seemed to vanish entirely, leaving only the lingering chill of his shadow.
Later that evening, Ananya returned to her dorm, trying to shake the growing tension in her chest. She thought about the strange, almost predatory aura that surrounded him, about the faint red flicker she had glimpsed in his eyes. Every instinct screamed at her to stay away, to protect herself from whatever he truly was.
But another part of her — a deeper, more dangerous part — whispered that she needed to know more.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden vibration on her phone. A message from an unknown number: “Stay away from him. He is not what he seems. Danger follows him.”
Her fingers trembled as she read it. Who could have sent this? And how did they know about Namjoon?
The next day at college, her curiosity outweighed her caution. She needed answers.
Namjoon found her between lectures, leaning casually against the stair railing, his expression calm, as if he had known she would seek him out.
“You received a warning,” he said, his voice soft, almost teasing.
Ananya’s eyes widened. “How… how do you know?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied her with an intensity that made her feel exposed, as though he could see every fear, every thought she tried to hide. “Warnings are meaningless,” he said finally. “They come from those who fear what they cannot control.”
Her heart skipped. “You’re… dangerous,” she whispered.
“And yet you are drawn to me,” he said, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Curiosity is stronger than fear, Ananya. You will learn that soon enough.”
For the rest of the day, Ananya could barely concentrate. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him — the dark aura, the hypnotic gaze, the faint red glow in his eyes.
That night, unable to sleep, she found herself walking through the quiet campus once more, drawn to the shadows where Namjoon had seemed to linger the night before. The moon hung low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow on the buildings, the paths, the trees swaying gently in the wind.
A sound behind her made her spin. Namjoon emerged from the darkness, silent as the night, his form blending seamlessly with the shadows.
“You shouldn’t wander alone,” he said, his voice carrying a dangerous edge.
“I… I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, her voice small.
He studied her for a moment, and then his expression softened slightly. “Curiosity brought you here again,” he murmured.
Before she could respond, a sudden movement caught her attention — a shadow that twisted unnaturally, slithering along the ground toward her. She froze, heart hammering.
Namjoon’s expression darkened instantly. “Stay behind me,” he ordered.
The shadow creature lunged, its form shifting and writhing, black tendrils reaching out like living smoke. Namjoon moved with lightning speed, placing himself between it and Ananya. His eyes glowed faintly red, and in an instant, the creature shrieked and dissipated into the night air, leaving only a lingering chill.
Ananya’s breath came in ragged gasps. “What… what was that?”
Namjoon turned to her, his expression unreadable once more. “A warning,” he said simply. “From my world. From the shadows that follow me. You are already entangled, Ananya. There is no going back now.”
Her mind reeled. The danger, the thrill, the impossibility of everything before her — it was real. And she knew, deep down, that her life had changed forever.
Namjoon reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His touch was electric, sending shivers down her spine. “You will need to trust me,” he said softly. “If you want to survive… and understand.”
Ananya nodded slowly, her fear mingling with an undeniable pull toward him. She didn’t fully understand what she was stepping into, but something in her heart whispered that this darkness, this danger, was exactly where she belonged.
And as the shadows of the night deepened around them, Ananya realized that she was no longer merely a college student. She was a part of a world she had only glimpsed in nightmares and myths — a world of demons, secrets, and a love that was as dangerous as it was irresistible.
The Demon’s Truth
The night after the shadow attack left Ananya restless, her thoughts spiraling like a carousel she couldn’t step off. She lay awake in her dorm, staring at the ceiling, the image of Namjoon’s crimson-glowing eyes burned into her mind. The memory refused to fade—the way he had stood between her and that writhing creature, the shadows twisting at his command, the faint flicker of something monstrous just beneath his flawless, human exterior.
Every rational part of her screamed to run. To stay away. To pretend none of it had happened.
And yet, when the morning sun filtered into her room, warm and reassuring, the first thing she thought was: Will he be there today?
He was.
Namjoon sat at the back of the lecture hall like he belonged there, one long leg stretched casually, dark hair falling into his eyes as though he hadn’t noticed half the girls staring at him with open fascination. But when his gaze lifted, when it locked onto hers across the room, it was like a thread snapped taut between them. Her pulse quickened, and she looked away immediately, pretending to scribble in her notebook.
But it was no use. She could feel his presence like a shadow pressed against her skin, impossible to ignore.
After class, she didn’t plan to approach him. She told herself she would walk straight past, head high, as if his existence didn’t matter.
Instead, she found herself standing in front of him, words tumbling out before she could stop them.
“You need to explain.” Her voice was sharper than she intended, but it quivered with the weight of sleepless nights. “Last night—those things, the shadows—what are you?”
Namjoon tilted his head, studying her, and for a long moment, he said nothing. The silence stretched until her heart was beating uncomfortably fast.
Finally, he spoke. His voice was low, velvety, but edged with danger. “If I told you the truth, Ananya, you wouldn’t sleep for a very long time.”
Her jaw tightened. “I didn’t sleep anyway.”
The faintest smile curved his lips, not mocking, but almost approving. “Fine,” he murmured. “Meet me tonight. Midnight. The old clock tower.”
Her breath hitched. The clock tower—abandoned, half in ruins, rumored to be haunted—stood at the far edge of campus. Students told ghost stories about it to scare each other, but no one actually went inside.
Ananya should have said no. She should have walked away, cut him out of her life before it was too late.
But she didn’t.
The clock tower loomed like a giant skeleton against the night sky, its broken windows glinting faintly in the moonlight, its silent bells frozen in time. Ananya hugged her jacket closer as she stepped through the warped wooden doors, her footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. Dust swirled in the air, catching in her throat.
And then she saw him.
Namjoon stood in the center of the room, his tall frame bathed in pale silver light from above. The shadows clung to him unnaturally, as if they bent to his presence, rippling faintly with each movement. He looked both devastatingly human and utterly inhuman—handsome in a way that made her chest tighten, dangerous in a way that made her blood run cold.
“You came,” he said, his voice low, carrying a note of inevitability.
“You told me to,” she whispered, though her knees felt weak.
Namjoon’s eyes softened briefly, then darkened again, like clouds crossing the moon. “Then you’re ready to hear the truth.”
Her breath caught. “What are you?”
His lips curved into a humorless smile. “A demon. Born of shadow. Bound to darkness.”
The word fell heavy between them. Demon. It should have sent her running, but she stood rooted in place, as if invisible chains bound her there.
“I don’t believe you,” she whispered, though her trembling voice betrayed her.
Namjoon stepped closer, and the shadows stirred as though following him. His eyes gleamed faintly red. “Then watch.”
The air shifted, electric. The shadows along the walls stretched unnaturally, swirling like black smoke. They coiled around his body, lifting the edges of his coat, sharpening the lines of his face. For a heartbeat, he blurred—half human, half something monstrous. Horns flickered at the edges of reality, black flames licked along his hands, and his crimson eyes burned with an otherworldly light.
Ananya staggered back, her breath catching in her throat.
And then, just as quickly, the vision vanished. Namjoon stood before her again, perfectly human, perfectly devastating, though the red still lingered faintly in his gaze.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “You… you really are…”
He nodded once. “Not human. Not like you.”
Her voice cracked. “Then why are you here?”
For the first time, his expression shifted from cold control to something almost vulnerable. His jaw tightened, his eyes flickering with a pain that felt ancient. “Because I was tired of my world. Tired of endless blood, endless power games. I wanted…” He trailed off, his gaze lowering briefly. “I wanted something real. Something human.”
Her heart pounded, though she didn’t fully understand why. “And now? What about last night? That thing—”
“A hunter,” Namjoon interrupted quietly. “Sent from my world. To remind me I don’t belong here.”
Ananya’s blood ran cold. “Then… it’ll come again?”
“It already has,” he said grimly. His hand flexed, and the shadows curled restlessly at his feet. “And it will keep coming. Because I broke their rules. Because I dared to want more.” His eyes lifted to hers, and in that moment, his voice softened, threaded with something raw. “Because I met you.”
Her breath caught. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, a sharp crack split the air.
The temperature plummeted. The walls seemed to tremble as shadows poured through the cracks, thick and suffocating, forming into twisted figures with glowing eyes. Their screeches pierced the silence, inhuman and shrill.
Namjoon’s face hardened instantly. His eyes flared red. “Stay behind me.”
Ananya froze, heart hammering, as three grotesque creatures lunged from the darkness—long, clawed limbs, bodies like living smoke, teeth gleaming in distorted mouths.
Namjoon moved faster than her eyes could follow. One swipe of his hand, and the shadows surged outward, slamming into the nearest creature and tearing it apart in a burst of black mist. Another leapt, claws aimed at Ananya, but Namjoon was there, intercepting it midair. His eyes blazed, and with a guttural growl, he twisted, slamming the thing into the floor. The ground cracked, and the creature dissolved into smoke.
But the third was faster. It slipped past him, lunging directly at Ananya. She screamed, stumbling back—
And Namjoon was there again.
He caught the creature by its throat, his hand engulfed in flames that weren’t fire but something darker, hungrier. The creature shrieked, writhing, before collapsing into dust.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Ananya’s chest heaved, her back pressed against the cold stone wall. She stared at him—at the red glow still burning in his eyes, the shadows curling protectively around him, the faint traces of something monstrous still clinging to his form.
Slowly, he turned to her. His expression softened, though his voice was still edged with darkness. “Now you see.”
She swallowed hard, her legs trembling. “You… saved me.”
“I told you,” he said, stepping closer, shadows melting away as he did. “You are bound to my fate now. And that makes you a target.”
Her throat went dry. “Then… what do we do?”
Namjoon’s gaze locked onto hers, fierce and unyielding. “We survive. Together.”
For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, the weight of everything unspoken thick in the air. The fear, the danger, the undeniable pull that drew her closer even as her instincts screamed to run.
Then, from the shadows, a voice hissed. Low, guttural, echoing through the chamber:
“She cannot save you, traitor. And she will not survive you.”
Ananya froze. The voice wasn’t Namjoon’s. It came from the walls themselves, from the lingering darkness that refused to dissipate.
Namjoon’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as the last of the shadows writhed and disappeared. But Ananya felt it in her bones—the warning wasn’t gone. It was only the beginning.
Whispers of the Dark
The night at the clock tower had left Ananya shaken to her core. Even hours later, as the first rays of dawn painted the sky, her body still trembled with the memory of clawed shadows and Namjoon’s crimson eyes glowing in the dark.
She should have felt safer knowing he had saved her. But safety wasn’t what she felt at all.
Instead, her chest carried a strange heaviness, a storm of emotions she couldn’t name—fear, fascination, and something that felt dangerously like yearning.
“He’s a demon,” she whispered to herself in the mirror, her voice breaking. “He’s not even human. And yet… why can’t I stay away?”
Her reflection gave no answers, only the pale face of a girl who was no longer the same as yesterday.
Campus life carried on as if nothing had changed. Students rushed to classes, laughter rang in the courtyards, professors droned on about assignments and exams. But for Ananya, everything was different. Every shadow seemed thicker. Every corner felt alive with whispers.
And always, somewhere nearby, was him.
Namjoon didn’t approach her directly that day. He lingered like a silent guardian—sometimes at the edge of the lecture hall, sometimes across the cafeteria. Their eyes would meet for a fleeting moment, and then he would look away, as though deliberately keeping distance.
But distance did nothing to weaken the pull.
That night, sleep refused to come. Ananya tossed on her bed until, at last, she slipped outside for air. The campus was quiet, bathed in silvery moonlight. The pathways looked almost serene, though the shadows stretched long and strange.
Her heart raced when she noticed a figure leaning against the lamppost near the library. Tall. Broad shoulders. Familiar.
Namjoon.
“Why are you always here?” she asked softly, walking toward him before she could second-guess herself.
His lips curved faintly, though his eyes were unreadable. “To make sure you’re alive.”
The bluntness of his words sent a shiver down her spine. She hugged her arms to herself. “You make it sound like I’m constantly in danger.”
“You are.” His tone was flat, but not unkind. His gaze flicked to the darkness around them. “My world doesn’t forgive betrayal. And the moment you saw me fight, you became part of that betrayal.”
Ananya’s chest tightened. “So I’m… marked now? Just for knowing you?”
“Yes.” His eyes softened almost imperceptibly. “I should have left you alone, Ananya. But I didn’t.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick with things unsaid. Then she asked, “Why me? Of all people here—why did you let me in?”
Namjoon’s jaw flexed, his eyes shadowed with something unspoken. He didn’t answer immediately. When he finally did, his voice was quiet, almost reluctant.
“Because you look at me like I’m not a monster.”
Her breath caught. She wanted to argue, to tell him she had seen the monster, that she was terrified of it—but the words stuck in her throat. Because the truth was, some part of her had looked past the fangs and shadows, and seen something else. Something achingly human.
But before she could respond, the air changed.
The hairs on her arms stood on end as a low hiss rippled through the night. The lamppost light flickered violently, plunging them into sudden darkness.
Namjoon’s expression hardened instantly. “Get behind me.”
The shadows writhed, gathering into shapes. Not smoke this time—these figures were solid, their eyes glowing like coals, their clawed hands scraping against the pavement as they crawled closer.
There were more than before. Five. Six. Maybe more.
Ananya stumbled back, her heart pounding. “There are so many—”
“Stay quiet,” Namjoon growled, stepping forward. The air around him thickened, shadows curling like an aura. His eyes flared crimson, his presence so commanding that even the night itself seemed to bend to him.
The first creature lunged. Namjoon’s hand shot out, shadows erupting in a sharp whip that sliced it apart in one motion. Another came from the side—he dodged fluidly, twisting with inhuman speed, his claws tearing through its throat.
But the others weren’t so easily dispatched. They moved together, circling, striking faster.
Ananya pressed against the wall of the library, every nerve screaming at her to run—but she couldn’t. Her eyes stayed locked on Namjoon as he fought like a storm given flesh, darkness answering his every command. He was beautiful, terrifying, unstoppable.
And yet, he was not invincible.
A claw slashed across his shoulder, tearing through fabric and skin. He hissed, staggering back as blood dripped down his arm. The sight made Ananya’s stomach twist.
“Namjoon!” she cried before she could stop herself.
He turned his head just slightly at her voice—and in that fraction of distraction, another creature lunged at him from behind.
“No!” Ananya screamed.
She didn’t think. She grabbed the nearest thing—a fallen iron rod lying near the wall—and swung with all her strength. The rod collided with the creature’s head, sending it crashing to the ground with a guttural shriek.
Namjoon whirled, finishing it with a brutal strike of shadow. His eyes blazed, both furious and protective, as he pulled her close.
“Never step in,” he growled, voice trembling with both anger and fear. “If they touch you—if you bleed—they will never stop hunting you.”
Her chest heaved. “Then stop keeping me in the dark! Tell me how to survive this!”
For a heartbeat, his expression cracked—just enough for her to see the raw fear beneath his control. Then he shoved her behind him again, turning to face the last of the attackers. His power surged, shadows lashing outward in a deadly wave that ripped through the creatures, scattering them into nothingness.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Namjoon stood trembling, blood seeping from his wound, his chest rising and falling heavily. Ananya stepped forward despite herself, reaching out.
“You’re hurt—”
He caught her wrist before she could touch him. His grip was firm, almost desperate. His eyes burned into hers, voice low and rough.
“Ananya… don’t you understand? Being near me will destroy you.”
Her heart twisted painfully, but she didn’t look away. “Maybe. But if you think I’m just going to stand back while you bleed for me—you’re wrong.”
For a long moment, they stared at each other, the world narrowing to just the two of them—their ragged breaths, their trembling hands, their fear and defiance.
Then, without another word, Namjoon released her wrist and turned away, shadows curling tightly around his body.
“Go back,” he said hoarsely. “Before I lose what little control I have left.”
And with that, he melted into the night, leaving her alone beneath the broken lamplight, her heart pounding with terror and something she could no longer deny.
Not love. Not yet.
But the dangerous beginning of it.
Distance Between Shadows
The night after the attack was long and restless. Ananya lay awake until dawn, her heart refusing to calm. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw crimson—his eyes, his blood, his shadows wrapping around the monsters until they dissolved into nothingness.
And then she saw his face when he warned her: Being near me will destroy you.
The words clung to her chest like thorns. She knew he was right.
That morning, she made a decision.
Ananya sat in her first lecture of the day, staring at the professor without hearing a single word. Normally, Namjoon was somewhere nearby—standing in the corridor, leaning against the back wall, or sitting in the farthest row like he didn’t belong but refused to leave.
Today, she deliberately chose a seat at the front. She kept her eyes down, her phone switched off, her world narrowed.
And yet… she could feel him.
The hairs on her neck prickled, the familiar chill running through her veins. Her instincts whispered that he was close. Still, she didn’t look.
Not once.
When the bell rang, she rushed out before anyone else, clutching her books tightly to her chest. She didn’t stop at the cafeteria. She didn’t wait for friends. She didn’t glance at the shadows.
She just walked. Fast.
For three days, she repeated the same routine.
She avoided the corners where he usually waited. She skipped the library at night. She made excuses to her roommates to stay in. She even turned up her music on the walk home, drowning out every whisper that seemed to curl through the dark.
But none of it silenced the storm inside her.
Because even when she pretended he wasn’t there, she could feel him. A pair of eyes watching from a distance. The shift of air that told her he had followed.
And in her dreams, there was no escape.
She dreamt of shadows crawling under her skin, of crimson eyes in the darkness, of his hand catching hers just before she fell into an endless abyss. Every morning she woke breathless, tangled in her sheets, whispering his name like a prayer she couldn’t stop.
By the fourth day, exhaustion lined her face. But she told herself it was for the best. She had to stay away.
What she didn’t know was that Namjoon hadn’t left her alone.
He kept his promise, silently. From rooftops, from the far end of the street, from the back of lecture halls, he stayed. Not once did he step forward, though the restraint burned him like fire.
He told himself it was better this way. If distance gave her peace, he would endure it. If avoiding him kept her alive, he would vanish into the shadows.
But the truth clawed at him: he could feel her slipping away. And every time he sensed the otherworldly stir of darkness around campus, his control frayed.
Because he knew the creatures hadn’t stopped hunting.
They never would.
Friday night.
Ananya sat alone in her dorm, trying to distract herself with notes. Her roommates were at a party, laughter spilling down the hallways, but she had refused to go.
The window was open, letting in the cool night air. The campus beyond was hushed, the lamplights steady.
She tried to convince herself it was safe.
But when she turned a page, the corner of her eye caught movement.
A shadow against the glass.
She froze, her pen slipping from her fingers. Slowly, she looked up.
At first, there was nothing. Only the branches swaying outside, the glow of the streetlights.
Then she saw it.
A figure. Standing across the courtyard. Too still. Too sharp. Its eyes glowed faintly red, unblinking.
Her blood ran cold.
She slammed the window shut, heart hammering. She grabbed her phone with trembling fingers—then remembered she had kept it switched off all week, just to avoid him.
Now, the silence of it felt like death itself.
The lights flickered.
Her breath caught.
From the corner of the room, the shadows thickened. They weren’t just dark—they were moving, curling upward like smoke given form. A clawed hand began to stretch out of the floor.
“No—no, please—”
Her back hit the wall. Her eyes darted around desperately. No weapons. No one to call. No Namjoon—
The thought cut her deeper than the fear itself.
The creature emerged fully now, taller than her, with jagged teeth glinting in its half-formed face. It hissed, low and hungry, and stepped closer.
Ananya’s scream tore from her throat—
—and shadows exploded through the window, shattering the glass in a storm of black shards.
Namjoon.
He landed between her and the creature, his form blazing with crimson light. The sight made her knees buckle in relief and dread at once.
“Stay behind me,” he snapped, his voice deeper, harsher than she’d ever heard.
The creature lunged. Namjoon caught it mid-air, claws sinking into its chest, shadows wrapping tight. It writhed and screamed, but he crushed it without hesitation, tearing it apart until it dissolved into dust.
The silence afterward was deafening.
Ananya stared at him, trembling violently, her chest heaving with sobs she hadn’t realized were rising.
“You—” her voice cracked. “You said I was safer without you!”
Namjoon turned slowly, his expression unreadable. Blood dripped down his hand where claws had cut into him, but his eyes—his burning, furious eyes—were fixed only on her.
“Safer?” His voice was low, shaking with restrained rage. “Do you still believe that?”
Her lips trembled. “I tried to stay away—I thought—”
“You thought you could run from what’s already claimed you?” He stepped closer, shadows still curling off his body, dangerous and beautiful all at once. “Ananya, they don’t care if you hate me. They don’t care if you never look at me again. The moment you saw my world—you became part of it.”
Tears blurred her vision. “Then what am I supposed to do? Live like this forever? Afraid of the dark? Waiting for you to appear every time I’m about to die?”
His jaw tightened. For a moment, pain flickered across his face. But then he masked it, his tone sharp and unyielding.
“Yes.”
Her heart stopped.
“Because whether you like it or not,” Namjoon said, his shadows coiling tighter, “you belong to my world now. And the only choice you have left—” His eyes locked on hers, fierce and unrelenting. “—is whether you stand beside me… or break under them.”
The words hit her like a strike. She staggered back, shaking her head, whispering, “No… no, I didn’t ask for this—”
Namjoon’s gaze softened for just a heartbeat, the storm inside him flickering with something more fragile. But then he stepped back into the shadows, his form blurring as the night swallowed him.
“Run all you want,” his voice echoed, low and haunting. “You’ll still find me in the dark.”
And then he was gone.
Ananya collapsed to her knees, her tears falling hot and heavy onto the broken glass.
She had wanted distance. But fate had only pulled them closer.
The Demon’s Claim
Ananya hadn’t slept the entire night.
Every time she closed her eyes, the same image flashed behind her lids—those crimson eyes glowing in the dark, that low growl in Namjoon’s voice as he had warned her: Run all you want… you’ll still find me in the dark.
It was supposed to scare her. And it did. But it also lingered like an echo she couldn’t silence, twisting itself into her heartbeat.
By morning, her body felt heavy, her mind torn between fear and a longing she didn’t want to admit. She dragged herself to class, convincing herself to act normal. To stay away from him. To remind herself he wasn’t safe.
Yet even as she walked across the campus courtyard, her eyes searched the crowd unconsciously, as if hoping to find that tall figure with broad shoulders and dark eyes watching her from the shadows.
But he wasn’t there.
For the first time in weeks, Namjoon didn’t appear near her lecture hall, didn’t stand at the far end of the library pretending not to watch her, didn’t linger in the corridors with that silent, suffocating presence.
And that absence hurt more than she expected.
The day dragged on. Her friends chatted around her, gossiping about assignments and weekend plans, but Ananya barely listened. She felt like she was standing in two worlds at once—one where she was just a college girl, and the other where shadows lurked, demons breathed, and crimson eyes haunted her.
When the final lecture ended, she stepped outside into the fading golden light of evening. The air felt heavy again, just as it had the night before.
Something wasn’t right.
Students bustled out of the building, laughing, complaining about professors, rushing toward the gates. But among them, one boy caught her attention.
He wasn’t laughing, wasn’t talking. He was standing unnaturally still in the middle of the courtyard, staring at her.
Ananya froze.
It was Raghav, a quiet boy from her class, the one who always sat in the back. But his eyes—his eyes were wrong. The whites were gone, replaced by an oily black sheen that reflected nothing, only consumed everything.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The crowd around him didn’t seem to notice. Students brushed past, too busy with their own lives, while Raghav’s steps dragged toward her. Slow. Mechanical. Like something was moving his body instead of him.
When he stopped just a foot away, his mouth opened, and the words that came out weren’t his. They were guttural, broken, inhuman.
“He comes for you, child of light.”
Ananya’s heart thundered in her chest. She stumbled back, clutching her bag like it could shield her. “W-what…?”
Raghav’s lips twisted into a grotesque smile, his voice layering into two tones—one human, one monstrous.
“The bond is sealed. You cannot run. You are already marked.”
And then—he collapsed.
His body fell to the ground with a dull thud, his eyes rolling back to normal, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths as if he’d simply fainted.
The crowd finally noticed, rushing toward him, shouting for help. But Ananya didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her legs felt like stone, her blood like ice.
Her first thought wasn’t for Raghav.
It was for him.
Namjoon.
She looked around wildly, half-expecting him to appear from the shadows, half-dreading it. But once again, he wasn’t there.
For the first time since she’d met him, Ananya felt truly, terrifyingly alone.
That night, she locked herself in her room.
Her parents had asked if she was okay—she’d lied, saying she was just tired. She couldn’t explain what she’d seen. She couldn’t even explain it to herself.
But one truth screamed in her mind: the world she’d been pulled into wasn’t letting her go.
She sat on the edge of her bed, hugging her knees, whispering to herself, “I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this.”
Her window rattled.
Ananya stiffened. The wind outside wasn’t strong enough to do that.
Slowly, she turned her head toward the glass.
And froze.
A figure stood just beyond the window, tall and lean, outlined against the pale moonlight. His hair was silvery-white, catching the glow like strands of ice. His eyes—sharp, feline, glimmering with a faint green fire—were locked directly on her.
He smiled.
Not warm. Not kind. But sharp, knowing, dangerous.
Before Ananya could scream, the latch clicked open on its own, and the window pushed inward with a soft creak.
The stranger stepped inside.
Every instinct in Ananya screamed to run, but her body refused. His presence was overwhelming, not like Namjoon’s heavy darkness but something more sinister, more elegant, more suffocating.
He moved like smoke, graceful, deliberate, every step calculated to remind her she was prey.
“Who… who are you?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
The man tilted his head, that smile never fading. “Min Yoongi.” His voice was low, smooth as silk but laced with venom. “And you, little human… are mine.”
Ananya’s breath hitched. “What…?”
“You carry his scent,” Yoongi murmured, stepping closer. His eyes flickered with a hunger that made her stomach twist. “Kim Namjoon’s mark. I could smell it the moment I crossed into this realm.”
Her pulse raced. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
Yoongi chuckled, soft and cold. “Don’t lie to me, child. You’ve been touched by a demon’s gaze, wrapped in his shadow. That bond cannot be hidden. And now…” His smile widened, predatory. “It belongs to me.”
Ananya stumbled back, hitting the wall. “Stay away from me.”
Yoongi stopped barely a foot away, his aura pressing against her like icy chains. He leaned closer, his breath ghosting her ear. “Do you think Namjoon can save you from me? He’s already failing. He’s already slipping. And when he finally breaks, there will be nothing left of him but the monster he truly is.”
Her heart pounded, fear clawing at her chest. But somewhere beneath it, anger sparked. “You’re wrong. He’s not like you.”
For the first time, Yoongi’s smile faded, his eyes narrowing. The green fire in them flared. “We’ll see.”
The shadows in her room trembled, curling toward him as if answering his call. Darkness thickened, swallowing the corners of her walls, pulling the air tighter around her lungs.
And then—
“Get away from her.”
The voice was sharp, low, furious.
Ananya’s eyes shot toward the doorway.
Namjoon.
He stood there, tall and unyielding, his own crimson eyes glowing brighter than she’d ever seen. His jaw clenched, his fists curled at his sides, his entire body radiating a darkness so powerful it silenced even the shadows Yoongi had summoned.
Yoongi smirked, stepping back only slightly. “Took you long enough.”
Namjoon’s voice was a growl. “She’s not yours.”
Yoongi tilted his head, unbothered. “Then why does she reek of you? Why is her soul tangled with yours?”
Ananya’s breath caught. She looked at Namjoon, searching for an answer, but his eyes didn’t leave Yoongi.
The silence was answer enough.
Yoongi chuckled, the sound cold and mocking. “You’ve broken the rules, Namjoon. You’ve marked her. And now, the others will come too. You’ve doomed her.”
Namjoon’s darkness flared, the air vibrating with raw power. “If you touch her—”
Yoongi raised a hand casually. “Save your threats. This is just the beginning.”
His body dissolved into shadows, fading into the night, his mocking laughter echoing as the room cleared of his presence.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Ananya pressed back against the wall, her chest heaving, her entire body trembling. She wanted to scream, to cry, to demand answers.
Instead, she whispered the only thing her lips could form.
“Is it true?”
Namjoon finally looked at her. His eyes softened slightly, the crimson fading to a darker shade, but the weight in them remained.
“Ananya…” His voice was quiet, almost pleading.
“Is it true?” she repeated, her voice breaking. “Did you… mark me? Did you make me part of this world?”
Namjoon’s silence was louder than any confession.
Ananya’s knees gave out. She sank to the floor, tears burning her eyes.
Her life wasn’t hers anymore.
And she didn’t know if she hated him… or needed him more than ever.
