Pain. It was the first thing David registered. A searing, bone-deep ache that burned in his veins and sent tremors through his limbs. His head throbbed, his body felt wrong, and the world around him smelled... different. Too sharp, too intense, too alive. The faint scent of vanilla and spice curled through the air, mingling with something bitter and metallic.

His eyes fluttered open to an unfamiliar ceiling, carved with intricate floral designs. Panic flared in his chest. This wasn't his apartment. Where was he? He shifted slightly, only to groan as pain shot through his body. His limbs were weaker, smaller even, and his hands—

David's breath halted as he raised them. He had slender fingers, pale and delicate, nothing like his big, calloused hands. He scrambled upright, his heart hammering against his ribs. He turned his gaze downward, toward his reflection in the polished glass of a nearby vanity.

A stranger stared back at him. Silky, white-blond hair, high cheekbones, a pointed chin, and delicate, almost doll-like features. Large violet eyes framed by thick lashes, damp with tears of pain. He looked ... so fragile. Feminine, even, despite the distinctly male structure of his throat. The difference between the dark-eyed, brown-haired, strong-built real self and this current self was abysmal. A cold chill slithered down his spine. He knew this face. He had seen it so many times in the drawings of the novel his sister had written.

"Asahin...?" The name slipped from his lips, and with it came a flood of memories—none of them his own.

A villain. An obsessed, pathetic wretch who had spent his short, miserable life chasing after something he could never have. Asahin Valmoor, the detested younger half-brother of the protagonist in the novel The Most Beautiful Sunrise.

David felt like he was going to be sick. How could it be? Only moments ago, had gone to sleep after returning from a nightshift at the store.

He tried to understand it, to retrieve some possible clarifying memory, but a sudden wave of dizziness and nausea left him breathless.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing it away. This had to be a dream, some kind of fever-induced nightmare. There was no way he had transmigrated into the body of the most pitiful character in the entire novel. But the memories, the emotions—too vivid to be anything but real—rushed through him in jagged pieces.

Asahin, an omega, born into wealth but overshadowed by his older half-brother, Darrien Valmoor. While Darrien was a perfect, first-class omega, Asahin was barely a third-class omega with damaged glands that could not even secrete pheromones.

He had no pheromones, no remarkable beauty that could rival his brother's, and worst of all, no destined bond. How could he bond with anyone when his glands were so damaged?

Asahin had spent his life seeking validation, desperate for attention, for affection, and when Kaylen Morrison manifested as a first-class alpha 5 years before, Asahin became irrationally obsessed with him. Like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline.

Kaylen was the embodiment of the perfect first-class alpha ... Tall, powerful, superior both physically and intellectually, and extremely devoted—except not to Asahin, but to Darrien. Always to Darrien.

David exhaled sharply. In the novel, Asahin's obsession for Kaylen grew worse and worse over the years. He stalked Kaylen and Darrien, interrupted their moments, tried to insert himself into Kaylen's life in ways that grew increasingly desperate. When Kaylen announced his engagement to Darrien, Asahin lost the last fragile thread of sanity he had left. He poisoned his own brother in a last-ditch attempt to steal Kaylen for himself. But it backfired. Darrien survived, and Asahin was thrown into prison, where he eventually took his own life in despair.

And now... David was him.

"Damn it!" The words were barely a whisper, but it echoed through the quiet room. His chest felt tight, his pulse unsteady. He needed a plan, fast.

The novel had already set its pieces in motion. Ever since Darrien had manifested into a first-class omega three years after Kaylen's manifestation, their relationship had been growing steadily, and if the timeline was correct, Kaylen would soon announce their engagement. That meant David—Asahin—was already teetering on the edge of his downfall. If he followed the original script, he was doomed.

No. That wouldn't happen.

David clenched his fists, breathing through the lingering remnants of panic. He had no interest in playing the role of a pathetic, obsessed villain. If he had to be Asahin, then he would rewrite his fate. He would stay far, far away from Kaylen and Darrien. No obsessing, no scheming, no poisoning. He just had to survive.

A knock at the door made him jolt, and a soft voice drifted through the heavy wooden frame. "Young Master Asahin?"

David took a steadying breath, straightening his posture. "Yes?"

"Master has requested your presence in the main hall. The Valmoor family is hosting a party tonight."

A party. Kaylen would be there, since the Morrisons were old family friends and never missed a Valmoor party. Darrien would be there, too. He would soon be in the same room with the very people he needed to avoid.

David exhaled slowly. Fine. He would go and try to stay as far away from trouble as possible. He wasn't Asahin. He would not let himself be swallowed by the same fate.

This time, the story would change.

This time, he would live.