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.
