I always thought I was just background noise in someone else’s story.

The funny guy. The overly dramatic Alpha who couldn’t win. The one who pined after the perfect girl and got friendzoned halfway through the season. Nothing special. Nothing important. Definitely not the main character.

But all of that changed during one stupid truth-or-dare game.

It was the last week before exams. The dorm’s rooftop was crowded, music blasting, alcohol flowing, students laughing like they had no care in the world. I was there too—Easton Virel, average height, average grades, overly emotional Alpha with nothing but a crush on the school’s golden girl: Lira.

She was dazzling under the rooftop lights, surrounded by a group of friends who treated her like royalty. And me? I was just lucky enough to be invited.

“Truth or dare?” someone shouted, pointing at me with a sly smirk.

I should’ve said “truth.” But I didn’t.

“Dare,” I replied, like a dumbass.

The group lit up. “Then kiss the person you like!”

Gasps, laughter, someone whistled.

My throat went dry. I stood up, walking toward Lira. My heart pounded in my chest, nerves frying every cell in my body. This was it. I was finally going to kiss her.

But then… something weird happened.

Glowing text floated right in front of my eyes. Not from my phone. Not from anyone else. Just… there.

“If loser Easton kisses the female lead tomorrow, the male lead will cut off his hand.”

What the hell?

I blinked, and another line followed:

“And a few days later, he gets brutally killed by the male lead. So tragic. He never learns that Caspian Emry, his archrival, was secretly in love with him.”

My body froze.

Wait—Caspian Emry? That Caspian?

The same Caspian who always looked down on me like I was a joke? Who was richer than God, smarter than every teacher, and had a fan club of people willing to lick the ground he walked on?

The guy I’ve been butting heads with since freshman year?

He was… in love with me?

This had to be a prank. Some messed up hallucination. I glanced around. Nobody else seemed to see the floating messages.

My feet stopped right in front of Lira. She looked up at me expectantly, lips parted just a little.

She was waiting.

I couldn’t move.

My heartbeat went from thunder to a full drumline in my ears.

And then I heard his voice.

Low, smooth, mocking.

Caspian. Behind me.

“What’s the matter, Virel? Chickening out?”

Without thinking, I spun around, grabbed his collar, yanked him forward, and kissed him.

On. The. Mouth.

Not a peck. Not for show.

A full-on, desperate, tongue-involved kiss.

Everyone screamed.

“WHAT?!”

“Easton kissed Caspian?!”

“Did he go insane?!”

“Holy crap—this is better than the actual drama club play!”

Floating comments reappeared in my sight.

“THE VILLAIN FINALLY KISSED HIS SECRET LOVE!! I’M SCREAMING!!”

“KISS HARDER YOU COWARD!!”

“This isn’t how the original story went! What timeline is this?!”

To my horror… I didn’t hate it.

The kiss was electric. Like his lips short-circuited my brain and lit a fire in my chest I’d never felt before.

Then I panicked.

I pinched his side hard and pulled away. His eyes opened, dazed, and locked onto mine. I felt everyone staring. I felt myself losing all control. So, like the dramatic Alpha I am…

I pretended to pass out.

My legs buckled. Caspian caught me with those annoyingly strong arms, holding me like a freaking princess.

“Is Easton drunk?” someone whispered.

“Definitely. That explains why he kissed Caspian,” another chimed in. “He probably thought it was Lira!”

Wrong. I was fully sober.

And I had just kissed my archrival to avoid dying in some alternate, cursed, floating-comment-filled storyline.

My only thought before I blacked out (fake, obviously) was:

What the hell did I just do?

I had one goal.

Stay unconscious.

Fake it. Don’t move. Don’t breathe weird. Don’t flinch when someone pokes you. Just be deadweight and wait for this cursed, embarrassing situation to pass.

But no one told me being fake-unconscious meant being carried like a damn bride across the rooftop by none other than Caspian Emry.

The guy I just tongue-kissed in front of everyone.

The guy who, according to floating system messages, would’ve killed me if I’d kissed someone else.

And now?

Now I was in his arms, completely helpless. His scent—dark like rain hitting hot pavement—wrapped around me, triggering the part of my Alpha instincts that never should’ve reacted to him. But it did.

Don’t. You. Dare. Get. Turned. On.

“Make way,” Caspian’s voice cut through the chaos, deep and calm like this was just another Tuesday night.

“Is Easton okay?” someone whispered behind us.

“Yeah,” someone else muttered. “Drunk out of his mind. Guess that kiss was a mistake…”

Mistake. Mistake? I’ll have you know I SAVED MY OWN LIFE.

Sort of.

Probably.

I peeked one eye open as Caspian stepped into the elevator with me still in his arms, bridal-style. His jaw was tight. His gaze straight ahead. Silent.

Not angry. Not smug.

Just… unreadable.

The elevator doors closed behind us. It was just the two of us now. The quiet was suffocating.

Then his voice dropped, low and near my ear.

“You can drop the act. I know you’re awake.”

Crap.

I didn’t move.

“I can see your pulse,” he added, one hand pressing lightly to my neck. “It jumps every time I speak.”

Double crap.

Still, I didn’t open my eyes. Just went limp like a committed method actor.

Caspian chuckled—quiet, amused. “Fine. Keep pretending. But you’re mine now.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

The elevator dinged. I expected the dorm hallway.

But instead, I was carried into… marble floors. Chandeliers. Art on the walls.

This was not our dorm building.

This was his freaking mansion.

Why are we at his mansion?

I wanted to open my eyes, but I was already committed to the role. At this point, I’d rather die of fake alcohol poisoning than face him.

He laid me on a velvet couch like I was made of porcelain.

Then came the part that truly terrified me.

He touched my head.

His fingers brushed through my hair, slow and gentle, like I was something precious. Then he ran them down—my cheek, my neck. My shoulder.

I nearly flinched when he touched my ankle.

Why… why the ankle?

I peeked. Just a little.

The glowing comments had returned.

❝OMG HE’S TOUCHING HIS ANKLES—CLASSIC YANDERE BEHAVIOR!❞

❝He’s measuring them for chains. He wants to keep Easton forever!❞

❝We stan possessive kings. Kiss him again, coward!!❞

Chains?

I was this close to kicking him in the face—until he gently pressed something cold to my skin.

Ointment.

For my sprained ankle.

I had twisted it during basketball two days ago, but no one was supposed to know that.

Yet here he was… rubbing ointment into my ankle like it was a normal Tuesday.

How long had he been watching me?

I had too many questions. And no answers.

So naturally, I panicked again.

I kicked him off the couch.

Hard.

“Sh*t!” he gasped, crashing into the coffee table behind him.

I sat up instantly. “Sorry! Reflex! I was asleep! I mean—drunk! Very drunk!”

Silence.

Then laughter.

Soft, deep, and terrifying.

He stood up slowly, brushing back his hair. His eyes locked onto mine like a predator finally seeing his prey run.

“You’re not drunk,” he said.

I laughed awkwardly. “Haha. You’re right. I’m absolutely smashed.”

He stepped closer.

“You kissed me, Easton.”

“Technically you were the nearest mouth—”

“You kissed me, and now you’re in my house.”

I backed up toward the armrest. “I was trying to survive, okay?”

His expression didn’t change. If anything, it softened. He knelt before me again, this time holding my foot in place with a grip that was gentle… but unshakable.

“I’ve waited five years,” he whispered, “for that kiss.”

My breath hitched.

“You think I’ll let you run away now?”

I had no idea what to say.

So, I did what I do best.

I screamed internally.

When I woke up, I had two thoughts.

One: I was still alive.

Two: I was definitely not in my own damn bed.

The room was massive—blackout curtains, sleek black walls, and silk sheets softer than any sin. Everything smelled like cool thunderstorms and pinewood.

Caspian’s scent.

And unfortunately, it was all over me.

Memories of last night crashed into me like a slow-motion car wreck. The rooftop. The dare. The kiss. The tongue. The fake fainting. And then Caspian carrying me to his private mansion like I was some tragic Omega bride.

I sat up fast. Too fast.

The blanket slipped down—and I realized, horrified, that I was shirtless.

“WHY AM I SHIRTLESS?!”

“You were sweaty and annoying,” came Caspian’s familiar, far-too-calm voice from the doorway.

I nearly choked. “You undressed me?!”

He leaned against the frame, arms crossed over his chest, expression unreadable. “I took off your shirt. You were muttering in your sleep and clawing at your collar like it was strangling you.”

I blinked. “Oh.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Unless you wanted me to take off more?”

I scrambled to grab the nearest pillow and flung it at his head.

“Get out!”

He ducked, unfazed. “Breakfast is downstairs. Try not to scream into your eggs.”

When he was gone, I fell back on the bed with a dramatic groan and dragged the pillow over my face. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t process anything. I kissed my archrival. And worse?

I might’ve liked it.

⸻

I got dressed—yes, fully—and followed the scent of food downstairs. My ankle was still sore, but better, thanks to that weirdly tender ointment moment.

Caspian had already plated breakfast: tofu skin rolls, steamed buns, soft rice porridge. All my favorites. Stuff I never mentioned out loud, not even in the cafeteria.

How the hell did he know?

“Eat,” he said, not looking up from his cup of tea.

“Creepy,” I muttered, sitting down across from him.

“Accurate.”

We ate in tense silence. But halfway through the meal, something changed.

A faint buzzing sound ticked inside my head. Then, a soft ding.

A floating message appeared, glitching like a hologram in the air.

[System Notice: Alpha Heat Warning Detected]

Affected: Easton Virel

Mild pheromone leak in progress. Please regulate immediately.

I froze mid-bite.

“Wait—what?”

I reached up to touch my neck, where my glands pulsed faintly with heat. No way. No. Freaking. Way. I hadn’t had a heat cycle since sophomore year. I was a male Alpha, not an Omega. Heats were rare, almost impossible.

Unless…

Unless an Enigma’s aura triggered it.

My eyes darted across the table.

Caspian was staring at me.

Not blinking.

Not breathing.

Like a wolf watching something small and cornered.

“Don’t,” I said immediately, panicking.

“I’m not doing anything,” he said slowly, setting his tea down with deliberate calm.

“You’re leaking aura!”

“You’re leaking scent.”

We glared at each other in silence, the floating message blinking between us.

[Public Heat Alert Active for 4 Minutes]

Nearby users notified. Please seek privacy.

“YOU BLASTED MY BUSINESS TO THE ENTIRE CAMPUS?!”

“You triggered the alert, Easton.”

“YOU triggered me!”

His eyes gleamed with something far too smug. “Interesting choice of words.”

“I hate you.”

“You kissed me.”

“TO AVOID DYING!”

“I liked it.”

My brain melted.

I stood so fast the chair nearly flipped. “I’m going back to the dorms.”

“You’re still in a mild heat.”

“I’ll regulate it myself.”

“…Will you?”

I shot him a look that could kill. He smiled like it gave him life.

⸻

Back at campus, whispers followed me like perfume.

“Is that him?”

“The one who kissed Caspian?”

“I saw the heat warning—he’s an Alpha, right??”

“Wait, can male Alphas even have heats?”

“Maybe he’s a hybrid…”

I pulled my hoodie over my head and stomped into the hallway. I didn’t care about the stares. I didn’t care about the whispers. I just wanted to collapse on my bed and pretend this entire week didn’t exist.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

Because as I turned the corner near my dorm room… Caspian was already there.

Leaning against my door.

Like he owned it. Like he belonged there.

“What now?” I snapped, exhausted.

He shrugged. “Just checking. Making sure you didn’t faint again.”

“I will literally push you down the stairs.”

“Sure,” he said casually, brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear. “But I’d land holding you.”

My body betrayed me with a full-body shiver.

I hated him.

I hated that I didn’t hate him.