A sweet and introverted girl suddenly changed into silent and a broken girl by universe which she never wanted. She crossed the world which she never meant to wish, but destiny has another plan for her In her life no one is real, parents or anything, everything is fake scenery by her real parents She travels across the universe when she turned 20, and returned to her parents They protect her and keep her away due to make her happy, but it turned out to be worse than ever. And atlas destiny has another plan Unplanned or Unexpected fated mate No one expects what future going to be look or reveal Let's wait and see the story

Tropes Enemies to lover Introvert× calm extrovert Easily trust anyone × can't trust family Vegetarian × non vegetarian Angel × demon ( 😈 just for the character description)

Mature content killing Rape ( not between Main lead) Poltics Magic Some uncomfortable scene Abused (not between Main lead) Bloody scene

Welcome to my new fantasy story cupcakes!!!!!!

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Raelynn POV:

The night that smelled like rain, even though the sky was clear

Heat pooled behind my sternum and a weight settled in my heart, as if something invisible was pressing against it.

The room I opened my eyes to was not my bedroom.

The familiar posters, the battered nightstand, the soft glow of my lamp were gone.

In their place stood a single, unmade bed in the middle of a floor that had lost its paint to dust and cracked tiles.

Moonlight filtered through a broken doorway, spilling across a torn curtain that fluttered in a wind I could not feel. A cracked window stared out at nothing, its pane shattered into jagged teeth. Spiderwebs clung to the far corner, their silken threads trembling like the breath of a sleeping beast.

But the words were swallowed by the darkness

The hallway beyond was a mirror of the room: empty, bleak, the same broken light spilling from the cracked doorway above. The kitchen, my parents’ bedroom, the stairs—every familiar space had been stripped down to skeletons of plaster and broken timber

A cold, unsteady silence pressed against me, and the air seemed to thicken with each second, as if some unseen hand were squeezing my lungs

That was when I heard it—a low, guttural howl that reverberated through the stairwell, followed by the sharp crack of a gun.

The howl turned into a snarl

On the ground floor, two men knelt, heads down, their wrists bound with frayed rope

One lay sprawled on the floor, a pool of dark crimson spreading around him, his hands also bound

Moonlight filtered through the broken ceiling, painting the scene in an eerie, silver wash.

In the opposite corner of the room sat a figure on a chair that seemed to have been carved from the shadows themselves

He was tall, his legs crossed like a king on a throne, a revolver cradled in his hand. He twirled the gun with a lazy, almost playful flick of his wrist while a low whistle escaped his lips—a sound that cut through the night like ice.

The first man’s body jerked, a spray of blood arcing like a macabre fountain

The second man’s eyes widened in terror as a second shot ripped through him.

The devil‑like figure chuckled, a sound that seemed to echo from the walls themselves, and leaned forward, the moonlight catching the cruel curve of his cheek.

But the staircase groaned under my weight; a cracked step gave way, sending a thin, metallic screech through the air.

The hallway was a blur of broken plaster and flickering bulbs as I slammed the apartment door behind me, slamming it shut with a force that made the wood shudder

Inside, the bedroom was a ruin. The door hung from its hinges, a jagged scar across the frame. I pressed my back against the cracked wall, heart hammering against my ribs as though trying to break free.

Heavy footsteps thumped down the hallway , each one a thunderclap of impending doom.

The silence stretched, taut as a wire. Then, a terrible sound—a roar of metal on wood—as an axe bit into the bedroom door

Splinters exploded outward, dust and ash swirling in the moonlit beam that slipped through the broken window.

A single, massive booted foot stepped into the doorway

The man from the ground floor looming larger than life, his silhouette swallowing the little light left in the room.

The pressure was absolute; my windpipe bruised, my vertebrae sang with a high‑pitched crack.

In that suspended moment, something in the air shifted. The shadows seemed to dissolve, the darkness peeling away like old wallpaper

The sound of my own startled cry echoed through a place I could not name. The world lurched, and then—thud

The apartment was the apartment I knew. The walls were painted the same faded blue, the lamp on the nightstand still flickered in its usual, lazy rhythm. No broken doors. No devil‑like figure. Only my parents, their faces a mixture of panic and relief, hovering over me.

He stopped, staring at the deep, angry bruise that marred my throat, a dark handprint smeared across my skin. My mother pressed a hand to my cheek, tears falling onto the carpet.

They carried me to the car, the night air chilling as we drove to the nearest hospital. In the emergency room, nurses wrapped my neck in gauze, the doctor’s voice low and professional as he instructed me not to speak, to keep my throat still, to sip water instead of trying to swallow food.

My mind replayed the night over and over: the cracked rooms, the moonlit horror, the man's smile, the sudden shift back to reality. I tried to make sense of it. Was it a nightmare? A hallucination brought on by a heart attack? Some twisted portal that opened just for a heartbeat?

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Raelynn POV:

That night, after the IV lines were removed and the monitors quieted, I lay awake, the bandage on my neck a cold reminder of the night’s events

The hospital corridors were empty, the lights dim and flickering in a rhythm that reminded me of the broken stairs. Somewhere in the distance, a faint whistle floated through the hallway—just a draft, I told myself. Yet the sound lingered, a thin thread that pulled at the edge of my consciousness.

In the weeks that followed, I kept the windows shut, the curtains drawn, and the lights on. My heart, now steadier with medication, still thudded a little too hard when I lay in the dark.

I realized that whatever had taken me that night was not a single entity but something that lived in the cracks of our world—between the walls, in the broken light, in the heartbeat that falters when fear spikes. It fed on the edge of perception, on the moment when pain and panic blur the line between reality and nightmare.

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The corridors of St. Jude’s Medical College were built to intimidate. With vaulted ceilings, marble floors that echoed every footstep, and walls adorned with historical portraits of prestigious alumni, it was a place where wealth and brilliance converged.

I was here on a full scholarship, a fact that made me feel like an imposter in a sea of designer coats and luxury perfumes.

Suddenly, the air in the corridor shifted. A roar of cheers erupted from the entrance, vibrating through the floorboards

He was carving through the crowd on a skateboard, moving with a fluid, reckless grace that seemed entirely out of place in such a sterile environment.

It was Kyros

The hallway had become his stage. As he drifted past, girls leaned against the lockers, faces flushed, chanting his name like a mantra

He was a vision of effortless magnetism—muscular, sharp-jawed, his hair falling in loose waves over his forehead. He didn't just walk through the room; he commanded it.

A bitter ache bloomed in my chest. I had spent years of sleepless nights, drinking black coffee and memorizing textbooks until my eyes blurred, all to land a scholarship to this school.

The truth, however, was far less romantic: I had followed him here. I had carried a secret, silent crush on Kyros since our high school days, watching him from the back of the classroom, always invisible, always the girl in the oversized sweater sitting in the shadows.

Lost in the familiar sting of my own insignificance, I didn't realize I had stepped into the middle of the tiled path

Whoosh

He didn't swerve. He stopped.

The skateboard came to a halt with a sharp, echoing clack against the marble

He was inches away—so close I could smell the faint scent of rain and cedarwood on his skin

Stripping away my defenses. He looked like a fallen god, his gaze intense enough to make my knees tremble.

His voice was a deep, resonant rasp that sent a jolt of electricity down my spine. The world around us seemed to mute. I could feel the butterflies erupting in my stomach, a frantic, dizzying sensation.

My heart sank further. They were the golden quartet—the icons of our high school days. They didn't know I existed then, and they certainly didn't know me now. To them, I was just another student in a sea of scrubs and textbooks.

They drifted off, their laughter trailing behind them.

He held my gaze for one beat—a second that felt like an eternity

His eyes searched my face for a flicker of recognition, but quickly, predictably, he found nothing.

I stood there in the center of the hallway, the noise of the campus rushing back like a tide. I reached up and touched my chest, my heart still racing in the space where he had stood. I was still invisible.

I was still just the girl in the hallway. But as I walked toward my next lecture, the lingering warmth of his gaze burned in my mind, a secret I would keep tucked away, buried deep beneath the weight of my medical books.

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