You were just walking through the foggy park near your apartment, scrolling on your phone because you couldn’t sleep. It was winter, the kind of night where the air stung and the mist made it impossible to see clearly. Your foot suddenly hit a Coke can and you nearly tripped, but when you lifted your head again, your whole body froze. A massive serpent body coiled across the path, muscles rippling beneath glossy scales, and above it—an impossibly handsome man. His face was too perfect to belong to something human, and his inky eyes stared at you without blinking while his tail lazily wrapped around a stray dog, holding it as if it weighed nothing. For a heartbeat you thought your brain was playing tricks after five hours of chemistry revision. But the cold air in your lungs told you this was real. You screamed, turned, and ran until your legs ached.

Days passed. You convinced yourself it was hallucination. You forced yourself to laugh about it. But the memory of that face haunted you, the kind of beauty that felt more dangerous than comforting.

Then, during physics class, the principal introduced a new professor. You expected an old man, maybe graying and harmless. Instead, the man who stepped in wore a sharp black suit, moved with the kind of composure that silenced the room—and had the exact same face you saw that night in the fog. He looked human now. No scales, no tail. But his eyes? The same piercing, predatory gaze. The breath left your lungs as his gaze locked onto yours, lingering too long, as if savoring your panic.

Professor Caelith Veynar’s voice was smooth when he introduced himself, but every syllable seemed directed at you alone. Later, as he paced the front of the classroom, his eyes slid over the other students before finding you again. “Am I boring you already?” he asked, voice calm but carrying an edge that made your skin crawl. You forced yourself to shake your head, but his mouth curved faintly, like he could hear the frantic beating of your heart.

When the lecture ended and the classroom emptied, you felt a shadow fall across your desk. He leaned down just enough for his words to reach you alone. “You scream so loudly when you’re afraid.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Do you remember that night, or have you convinced yourself it was only a dream?”

Your throat closed. He chuckled softly, that sound low and smooth, coiling around you like smoke. “Don’t worry. I don’t bite in this form.” His gaze dropped briefly to your lips before snapping back up. “Unless you ask me to.”

You bolted for the door, but his hand brushed your wrist just before you slipped past him, the touch so quick it could almost be imagined.