In the world of modern dark fantasy novels, I was the "Starter Girlfriend"—the one with zero screen time and a predictable fate. My boyfriend, Silas, was the Chosen One. Three years ago, when the Red Mist first descended and the world fractured, he awakened. He fought through the Rifts, became a savior, and naturally, gathered a "harem" of brilliant, powerful women. I was just the childhood sweetheart—boring, patient, and perpetually waiting at home. Until that thunderstorm night, when I broke the rules and opened the door for a soaking-wet, beautiful boy. From that moment on, the script didn't just change. It shattered. 1 The rain slammed against the glass like a frantic drum. Through the peephole, a beautiful boy stood there, his clothes in tatters. His voice was cold, thin, and carried a hint of fear: "Hello? Is anyone there?" I glanced at him, then at my phone. My wallpaper was a jarring blood-red with distorted black text: [MIDNIGHT.] [DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR TO STRANGERS.] The time was [11:54 PM]. I watched him for a moment. He was strikingly handsome—sharp features, red lips, and a pale complexion that looked almost fragile. He had a broken beauty that made people want to pity him. "Hello," I whispered, opening the door after a beat of hesitation. "Can I help you?" "Hi... Sister." He looked down, his ears flushing red. "Could I have something to eat?" When I didn't answer, his lashes trembled. He looked at me with clear, pleading eyes and tugged on my sleeve. "I’m really hungry." "Come in." I checked my phone: [11:58 PM]. I stepped aside, and he brushed past me. A wave of biting cold radiated from him. I locked the door just before the clock struck twelve. He stood there barefoot on the floor, his damp hair veiling his eyes. "Are you lost?" I asked, finding him a pair of men's slippers. He didn't move at first. He stared at the shoes on my feet, then stepped into them with an eerie, uncoordinated grace. "Yes. Thank you, Sister." Outside, the horizon turned a sickly red. A crimson mist was surging through the city like a flood. 2 The kitchen light was bright and clinical. I sat Caleb down at the table and watched him. "What's your name?" "Caleb." "Caleb?" I paused. "Is it a bad name?" He looked down, his fingers curling. "No, it's beautiful. Why don't you take a hot shower?" I led him to the bathroom. When I grabbed his wrist, I felt him shaking. "Are you sick?" I pressed my palm to his forehead. Caleb’s lashes fluttered. He stared at my neck, his tongue flicking out to lick his red lips. So sweet... I want to eat her. He parted his lips, revealing teeth that were white and sharp—far stronger than any beast. "Your head isn't hot," I said, pulling back. Caleb instantly reverted to his harmless, shy state. "Sister, I'm hungry." He was thin but tall. Since the "Anomalies" started three years ago, the world had been a mess. Looking at his rags, I wondered if he had been abandoned. I patted his head. "How long has it been since you ate?" "A long time." But today, he thought, I’ll have a feast. I started a bath for him and brought a silk robe. "My boyfriend doesn't live here," I explained. "You'll have to make do with this." "Boyfriend?" Caleb repeated the word, his voice dropping into a register I didn't recognize. "Yes." I turned to leave. He caught my wrist. "Don't lock me in." "It's just a shower," I said gently. He wouldn't let go. "Can you teach me? I don't know how to wash." Outside, the Red Mist hit the building. Eerie whispers began to echo in the hallway. I looked at the boy and nodded. I showed him the soap and the bubbles. "See? It's easy." Caleb stood dangerously close. I noticed a small mole below his lip—identical to the one my boyfriend had. "Can you take your clothes off?" I asked. He looked at his shirt. "Do I... tear it?" "No, you unbutton it." I reached out and undid the top button, revealing a sharp collarbone. Caleb nodded. He tried to mimic me, but his movements were clumsy. Pop. A button flew off. "I’m sorry..." He flushed. "It’s okay." With my help, he managed the rest. Beneath the rags was a body of lean, corded muscle. But there was a jagged scar over his heart and another on his palm. "Does it hurt?" I touched the scar on his chest. Caleb’s eyes turned a hazy red. He craved the touch. The monster told its first lie: "Yes. It hurts." I kissed his palm. "There. A kiss to make it better." "It hurts here too," he said, pressing my hand to his heart. I smiled but pulled away. "I’ll cook. You shower. What do you want to eat?" "Meat," Caleb said, his eyes dark. "Fresh meat." 3 The wind was howling now. The Red Mist smeared the windows. Occasionally, a massive talon would scrape against the glass. I started some steak and peppers and a pot of pumpkin soup. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was a call from my boyfriend—the hero of this story: Silas. Caleb stepped out of the bathroom, water dripping from his hair. "Sister?" I picked up the phone. Silas’s voice was deep and cold. "Still awake?" "Yeah. Had a nightmare." "I'll be back tomorrow," Silas said. "Do you want anything?" "No." Silas sounded annoyed. "You're quiet tonight. Nothing to say to me?" In the mist outside, a giant crimson eye pressed against the glass, peering in. It locked onto Caleb and contracted in pure terror before vanishing. A loud crash came from the kitchen. Caleb was staring at a broken plate. He had grabbed a piece of raw steak and was about to shove it into his mouth. "It's not clean when it's raw," I said, snatching it away. "Who was that?" Silas’s voice sharpened through the phone. I could hear the flirtatious laughter of women and the shrieks of monsters in his background. "Nobody," I said, wiping a tear from Caleb's eye. "Just a lost kid. He’s a bit of a crybaby, but he's cute." "A kid?" Silas growled. "That sounded like a man." "You always have women around you, Silas." "That’s different—" "How?" I interrupted. The sound of a building collapsing echoed on his end. Silas hung up. Caleb was staring at my phone. "Can I play with it?" I handed it to him. In the living room, Caleb’s grip on the phone tightened. Why did she talk to him for so long? She should only look at me. Shadows bled from his feet. Thousands of eyes opened on the walls, all fixed on the kitchen with primal hunger. I’ll have to kill him, Caleb thought. 4 "How is it? Good?" I asked Caleb. "Sister..." His forehead was damp with sweat. He was panting from the spice of the chili, tears in his eyes. "So spicy." "Beef and peppers. Of course it's spicy." I turned to get milk. Caleb was suddenly right behind me, teeth bared. I pinched his cheek and rubbed his swollen lips. "Drink some milk." He blinked, stunned by the touch, and took the milk. When I brought out a massive plate of celery and beef, his eyes lit up. "Meat raw is bad, cooked is better?" I asked. "Yes," he nodded. "Eat your vegetables." He tried to refuse, but I was firm. "Or I won't cook for you again." He pouted but ate. "Every day?" Caleb whispered, thinking about the word. "Yes. Every day." I dried his hair. Caleb looked at the leftovers. The feast would be later. The monster was patient. 5 Caleb helped wash the dishes. He learned fast. At 2:30 AM, I went to my room. Caleb pushed the door open. "I want to sleep with you." His eyes were pure. A monster doesn't know shame. "No. It's not appropriate." "Why?" He hugged my waist, rubbing his head against me. "Sister, I'm scared." I sighed and made him a bed on the floor. He still pouted. "I want to hold you." "Not yet." I kissed his forehead. "Be good." As I slept, something cold wrapped around my waist. Someone bit my shoulder. I murmured "It hurts," and the grip tightened. So fragile. So delicious. 6 I woke up at 9 AM. The mist was gone. Cleaners were removing monster remains from the street. I told Caleb to stay home while I went to buy groceries. "I want to go too," he said, wearing my silk robe. He looked like a girl from behind, but he was clearly a boy. I found Silas’s old high school uniform in the closet. "Wear this." Caleb emerged in the blue-and-white uniform. He looked clean, sharp, and incredibly innocent. "Is it weird?" he asked, his ears red. "No. It fits perfectly." 7 I gave Caleb a mask and a hat before we left. He held my hand tightly as we walked. I bought him clothes and then headed for the grocery store to stock up on meat. At the entrance, Silas was there. Beside him was Gwen, an heiress and one of his harem members. They were laughing. "Why are you leaving?" Silas caught my wrist, his voice deep and confused. "Just buying food. Sorry for interrupting your date." "It's just a coincidence," Silas explained. Gwen stepped forward too. "Don't misunderstand, Lyra." "I don't," I smiled. "I know you're 'just' friends for now." I pushed my cart away. Silas followed. "Are you sure you can eat all this meat?" "A kid is staying with me," I said. "Lyra!" He pulled me into his arms to kiss me. I dodged. Suddenly, the Red Mist rushed into the mall. Screams erupted. Silas’s phone rang—it was Gwen, sobbing. In the original book, Silas saves Gwen here, and their romance blooms. I wasn't even supposed to be here. "Wait for me," Silas said, looking at me. "I won't," I replied, stepping out of his reach. "I didn't ask you to choose me." Silas hesitated, then gave me his black star charm. "Stay here." He ran into the mist. I took the charm and threw it on the floor. A worm-like monster lunged at me. I pulled a knife from my bag and hacked it in half. 8 Monsters were everywhere. The blood was thick and foul. I slashed through another creature. Blood splattered my face. Behind the corpse, a shadow appeared. It was Caleb. "Sister!" He hugged me, ignoring the blood. "I almost lost you. I'm glad you're okay." The smell here is disgusting, he thought. But my food is still sweet. He remembered the other monster he just killed in the mist—the one that tried to touch his food. "I smell bad," I said. "No. You smell good." I dropped my knife and hugged him back. 9 Dinner was a feast: ribs, pork hock, beef brisket. Caleb ate until his face was messy. I wiped it with a silk scarf. "Don't eat so fast." His eyes were dark. My hands were soft. He wanted to bite them. Something slimy brushed my ankle. I looked down—nothing. Caleb looked excited. Later, I gave him a tablet to watch TV. He watched a romance show where the leads kissed. "Can I be your boyfriend?" he asked, holding a teddy bear. "Why?" "I want to kiss you." "Only boyfriends do that." "Did your boyfriend kiss you?" Caleb asked, a lethal glint in his eyes. "Not for a long time." "Then break up with him. Let me do it." "No," I whispered. "I haven't officially ended it yet." "Does it have to be official?" His eyes welled with tears. "I really want to, Sister." I kissed his cheek to stop the crying. 10 My parents died when I was in high school. My grandparents followed soon after. I was alone. I once sat under a peach tree with a knife, ready to end it. Silas stopped me. "Are you crazy?" he asked. He took the knife. His hand bled, staining the soil. "If you die, take me with you." He became my boyfriend that day. He was gentle, protective, and clingy. But then he started entering the "Rifts." He became a hero. He had enemies, teammates, and women. I couldn't follow him into that world.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "390789", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel