Broken promises and promises to keep

Asahin opened his eyes to the familiar ceiling of his bedroom. His body felt heavy, as though an invisible weight was pressing down on his chest, making it difficult to breathe. His limbs were sluggish, unresponsive, and there was a dull, throbbing pain behind his eyes. He tried moving his head to the right, hoping to glance out the window, but the instant he shifted, a wave of dizziness crashed over him, leaving him nauseous. It felt like his brain had liquefied and sloshed around inside his skull. He groaned in discomfort, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.

Things had not gone as planned at all.

How did he end up clinging to Kaylen and fainting in his arms? The very thought made him want to curl up and disappear.

What the hell!

Never, in his thirty years as David—his past life—had he ever experienced such overwhelming weakness and vulnerability. He had suffered injuries, sickness, and exhaustion, but never had he fainted. Was this the influence of his current body? Was Asahin's physiology so delicate that even the smallest shock sent him collapsing like a wilting flower? Or was it some twisted plot device forcing him into these humiliating situations for the sake of advancing the story?

The idea infuriated him.

Blinking away the lingering fog in his mind, he turned his gaze toward the window again. The sky was a soft gradient of blue and pink, the night slowly giving way to dawn. That meant he had been unconscious for an entire night.

But… who had carried him to his room?

"Maybe it was the servants," he muttered hoarsely, his throat dry and scratchy. His voice barely sounded like his own. "No way Kaylen carried me himself." He let out a humorless chuckle, though it hurt his throat to do so.

"I did, actually."

A deep, raspy voice echoed from the shadows of the room.

Asahin's breath hitched. Startled, he jolted upright but immediately regretted it as the room spun violently around him. A powerful nausea churned in his gut, and he clutched his stomach with one hand while pressing the other against his forehead. "Ugh!"

"Lay down," Kaylen instructed, stepping forward with smooth, assured movements. He reached out and grasped Asahin's shoulders, firmly but gently pushing him back onto the pillows.

Asahin swallowed hard, the nausea slowly subsiding under Kaylen's steady touch. He barely had time to register the warmth of Kaylen's hands before they were gone, replaced instead by a cool palm pressing against his forehead. He blinked, dazed, and found himself looking up into Kaylen's gray eyes—calm, calculating, and unreadable.

"Your fever is down," Kaylen murmured.

Asahin could only stare.

What was going on? Kaylen hated him—or at least, that was what the novel had strongly implied. He found Asahin annoying, repulsive even. He had never shown an ounce of concern for him, so why was he standing here now, tending to him?

"Have you been staying here this entire time?" Asahin asked, voice still hoarse, his mind struggling to piece together a reasonable explanation for Kaylen's presence.

"No. I returned to the party after I brought you here, then sneaked back in after it ended and I was supposedly on my way home."

Asahin furrowed his brows. "You snuck in?"

There was no trace of worry or concern on Kaylen's face—it was as calm and neutral as ever. Yet, he had taken the effort to return after the party, risking being seen just to check on Asahin. Why?

"Why are you here?" Asahin finally voiced the question gnawing at his mind.

Kaylen folded his arms across his chest. "You asked for my help. Remember?"

Asahin stilled. No, he didn't remember. His memories of the original Asahin were fragmented, incomplete. He only had glimpses of the life before he arrived in this body, a patchwork of moments with gaping holes in between.

"You came to my house and asked me to help you leave the Valmoor family," Kaylen continued. "I came to give you my answer." He paused briefly before adding, "I will help you."

Asahin's lips parted in surprise, though he quickly schooled his expression. The original Asahin had gone to Kaylen for help? That had never been mentioned in the novel. If it had, it would have altered the entire dynamic between them. And Kaylen… he had actually agreed to help?

"I'm doing it for the sake of my mother," Kaylen clarified, as if anticipating Asahin's confusion. "She asked me to help you if you ever needed it." His tone was edged with reluctance, as though he wasn't particularly thrilled about the arrangement.

Ah… that made sense.

Kaylen's mother and Asahin's mother had been close friends since their college days. It was a brief mention in the novel—one sentence buried in a long-winded background description of Kaylen's lineage. Unlike Asahin's mother, who had been relegated to a passing mention, Kaylen's mother had been a more vividly fleshed-out character.

She had been a beta from a humble background, yet she had captivated Kaylen's father, a second-class alpha from the prestigious Morrison family. Their love story was an anomaly in the rigidly structured hierarchy of Varrunna's elite, and despite pressures from his family, Kaylen's father had refused to take a second omega spouse, even after she passed away. It was a love so rare in this world that it almost felt like fiction.

But things had changed when Kaylen manifested as a first-class alpha at seventeen. The Morrison family, recognizing his rarity, had reinstated their interest, and his grandfather had named him heir to seventy percent of the family's wealth and businesses. At only twenty-two, Kaylen was already set to become the most powerful first-class alpha in Varrunna in just five years.

Asahin exhaled slowly. "I see."

"But there are conditions," Kaylen said, snapping Asahin's attention back to the present. His arms were still crossed, his posture firm and unwavering. "You have to stay away from me."

Asahin blinked. "What?"

"I don't like seeing you hover around me," Kaylen stated bluntly. "And I don't like you bothering Darrien."

There was an edge to his voice, a quiet warning woven between the words.

Asahin clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm. He wanted to argue, to tell Kaylen the truth about Darrien, to rip away the perfect façade and expose the manipulative, wicked person that lurked beneath. But he held his tongue. Kaylen wouldn't believe him. Darrien was too important to him.

"Okay. I promise," Asahin said instead.

Kaylen eyed him skeptically. "Make sure you keep that promise. Don't go back on your word like you did with the party. You promised you wouldn't attend, yet you did, and… well, you know what happened."

Asahin opened his mouth to explain but shut it almost immediately.

Would Kaylen even believe him if he said Darrien had set a trap? Would he believe that Asahin had no memory of making that promise in the first place? No. He wouldn't. And Asahin couldn't exactly tell him the truth—that he wasn't the real Asahin but a soul from another world inhabiting his body.

"I won't break my promises anymore," Asahin sighed, resigned.

Kaylen gave a small nod before his gaze flickered toward the bedside table. "Also, stop stealing my belongings," he said, gesturing toward the handkerchief placed neatly on the surface. "It's unsettling."

Asahin flushed. "Okay."

Damn, the original Asahin was creepy.

What else had he stolen from Kaylen? The novel hadn't detailed this particular aspect of his character, and Asahin wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Alright then," Kaylen said. "It's settled. I'll find a way to get you out of the Valmoor family and secure a place for you—preferably on another continent."

The implication was clear. He wanted Asahin as far away from him and Darrien as possible.

Asahin exhaled. "Thank you."

He meant it.

He had already been planning to leave Varrunna and sever ties with the main characters. The fact that the original Asahin had sought the same escape was both surprising and confusing. Why had he changed his mind? Why had he ended up poisoning Darrien instead?

"No need to thank me," Kaylen said, turning toward the door. "Just keep your promises and lay low."

And then he was gone.

Asahin stared at the ceiling, his mind a whirlwind of questions.

Would he survive this time?