Kaylen's Perspective

It was still a long while until midnight, so Kaylen decided to get some rest before heading out to meet Asahin. He sat on the edge of the sofa for a moment before sinking back into the cushions, exhaustion creeping into his muscles.

His eyelids grew heavy almost instantly. He let out a slow breath, allowing the tiredness to seep into his bones. Within moments, the world around him blurred and darkened as sleep took hold of him with surprising ease.

And then the dream came.

It wasn't an ordinary dream. It was vivid — painfully so — as though he had stepped through some thin veil into another existence. There was someone with him in the dream. A figure, familiar yet unfamiliar. This person didn't look like Asahin, nor did he sound like him, but Kaylen knew it was him. A certainty rooted itself deep in his chest — that quiet pull, the unmistakable thread of connection that bound him to Asahin in ways he couldn't explain.

In the dream, they were close. Not just standing side by side — no, there was an ease between them, a quiet intimacy that suggested years of closeness. Kaylen felt the warmth of Asahin's hand brushing against his own, their shoulders pressing together as they walked through some hazy, golden afternoon. His heart ached in a way it hadn't before — the kind of ache that only blooms from something deeper than friendship.

Kaylen loved him. He could feel it, deep in his bones. A quiet, unbearable longing that curled around his heart like an old wound reopening. But he wasn't sure if Asahin felt the same way. Asahin was smiling in the dream — that soft, secret smile Kaylen had seen a thousand times before in that dreamworld — but it didn't calm the storm inside him. It made it worse.

He knew he cared for Asahin too much, but the idea of confessing was terrifying. The fear of losing Asahin's friendship — his only friend, the only constant in his life — was enough to keep his feelings buried beneath layers of self-control and indifference.

The dream Asahin called him by a different name.

"Sammy."

"Sammy, come have dinner with us!"

"Sammy, I'll help you buy a new book, so don't cry."

"Sammy, I bought your favorite — chocolate chip ice cream."

"Sammy, I'll teach those kids a lesson."

"Sammy, I'll always protect you. We are family."

"No, Sammy! Please open your eyes! Please, Sammy! Please don't leave me!"

The last plea tore through Kaylen like a blade. He could hear the raw desperation in the voice, and feel the crushing weight of loss. A hand gripped his shoulder, shaking him, pulling him back from the edge of something dark and terrible — but he couldn't stop slipping.

Kaylen woke with a sharp gasp, his chest heaving. Warm tears slid down his cheeks, his breathing ragged. His heart slammed painfully against his ribs, as though he'd been running for his life. A tightness gripped his chest, a vice-like pressure that made it hard to breathe. But what truly shook him was the lingering sensation of arms around him — holding him tightly, almost desperately — though no one was there.

He sat up, wiping his face with trembling hands. His body was tense, but underneath that tension was an ache — a deep, gnawing need. His heart thudded painfully in his chest. He needed to see Asahin. The urge was so intense it sent shivers through his entire body. It was primal — irrational — but it didn't matter. He had to see him. Something inside him demanded it.

Kaylen was already halfway down the hall before his mind caught up with his body. His pulse hammered in his ears as he reached Assassin's door. His hand hovered over the wood for only a second before he knocked. His usual careful restraint was gone, stripped away by the surge of emotion still curling in his chest. But he was trying hard to mask it all. Too keep his calm and collected appearance.

The door opened, and there Asahin stood. His white-blond hair caught the soft light, his violet eyes glowing in the half-dark. Kaylen's breathing halted. His chest tightened. He wanted to touch him. To close the space between them and feel Asahin's warmth against him.

For a moment, he almost gave in. Almost.

Kaylen swallowed hard, his hand clenching into a fist at his side. He couldn't just… pounce on Asahin after everything. After the way he had pushed him away so many times. It would be too much — too desperate. He had no idea how Asahin would react.

How the tables have turned. Kaylen almost laughed at the bitter irony. He had once been the one rolling his eyes at Asahin's clinginess, shoving him away whenever he got too close. Now, Kaylen was the one burning with need.

When Asahin had suggested that he pay closer attention to the Valmoors, Kaylen felt as if someone had pointed out that the sky was blue — so glaringly obvious that he couldn't believe it had never occurred to him before. The realization struck him with a strange mix of disbelief and embarrassment, like being told he'd been walking around with his shirt inside out for years.

Because Asahin was right. Kaylen had never really spared much thought for the Valmoors. He had accepted them at face value, viewing them through a lens of polite indifference. Darrien's love and unwavering devotion had always seemed genuine; Asahin's irritating behavior had felt consistent, if not a little exhausting; Tarya Valmoor's effortless grace and kindness had appeared sincere; Nevid Valmoor's stoic reserve had seemed fitting for a family of their standing. The Valmoors were one of the oldest and most respected families in Varrunna — their wealth and influence stretched across all three continents. That was the general understanding, the narrative everyone accepted without question. Kaylen had simply adopted it as truth.

It wasn't as though he'd had much cause to engage with them deeply. Aside from Darrien — whom he had spent most of the last five years with — Kaylen's interactions with the Valmoors were limited to brief social encounters and the occasional formal dinner. And Darrien had always presented himself flawlessly: attentive, charming, and effortlessly composed. Kaylen had seen no cracks in the image Darrien projected — no flaws, no contradictions, nothing that might suggest the carefully crafted façade was just that — a façade.

But was it natural for someone to be so... perfect? Could a person genuinely possess only praiseworthy qualities and never reveal a single flaw? Of course not. Kaylen wasn't naïve. He had witnessed firsthand how the Morrisons — another powerful and influential family — operated beneath their polished veneer of propriety. The Morrisons were a festering pit of corruption and deceit beneath their glittering exterior. Their smiles were hollow, their words calculated, their gestures designed to manipulate and control. Kaylen knew that darkness often lurked beneath perfection.

So why had it never occurred to him that the Valmoors might be hiding something just as sinister — or perhaps even worse?

Maybe it was because he had never really cared about the Valmoors — or about Darrien, if he was being completely honest with himself. Darrien was the one who had pursued him first, who had initiated every step of their relationship. Darrien had kissed him first. Darrien had been the one to ask him to be his boyfriend. Darrien had proposed that they should get engaged and then married. Kaylen had agreed to all of it, not because he was swept up by love or passion, but because… why not? There hadn't seemed to be any reason to say no.

It wasn't as if Kaylen had ever imagined finding someone better than Darrien. His alpha peers spoke about obsession and passion — about how they couldn't stop thinking about their partners, how they ached to touch them, to breathe them in, how their thoughts revolved obsessively around them and how their protective instincts bordered on aggression— but Kaylen had never felt that way. Not toward Darrien. Not toward anyone. 

For the longest time, Kaylen had told himself that maybe it was a blessing. Perhaps his superior alpha genes allowed him to control his instincts and emotions better than others. Perhaps he was simply more evolved — less prone to the wild and unpredictable nature of alpha and omega relationships. That explanation seemed reasonable enough. Until now.

Because now, that quiet certainty was unraveling. That false sense of superiority was crumbling beneath the weight of a startling, humbling realization — and the person delivering this lesson was the last person Kaylen would have expected.

Asahin.

It was Asahin who had shaken the foundation of Kaylen's carefully maintained composure. It was Asahin's words — simple and unassuming — that had pulled the blindfold from his eyes and left him blinking into the harsh glare of reality. Asahin, with his sharp tongue and infuriating stubbornness, had managed to do what no one else had: make Kaylen question everything.

And now Kaylen couldn't stop thinking about it. About the Valmoors. About Darrien. About how disturbingly easy it had been for him to drift along, accepting everything without ever considering what lay beneath the surface. Had he really been that careless? That blind?

And why — of all people — was it Asahin who had opened his eyes?

Kaylen's jaw tightened as the pieces began to align in his mind, fitting together with unsettling clarity. If Darrien's perfection was a façade, then what was he hiding? If the Valmoors had built their empire on carefully maintained appearances, what darkness lay beneath that polished exterior?

A chill crept up his spine as a single, unshakable thought settled in his chest. He had trusted Darrien without question. And that… might have been his gravest mistake.

Kaylen crouched down, his knees pressing into the cold floor as he leaned closer to Asahin. His gaze met those piercing violet eyes. He forced himself to focus, to steady the erratic pounding of his heart as he offered a quiet, sincere apology for the pheromones incident. His voice was low, laced with genuine regret. He hadn't meant to cause trouble for Asahin.

But even as the words left his lips, his body betrayed him. His heart hammered against his ribs, and heat coursed through his veins like wildfire. His instincts flared dangerously close to the surface, and he had to summon every ounce of self-control to keep his pheromones in check. If he slipped — if even the slightest trace of his scent lingered — Asahin would get in trouble again.

Kaylen's hand moved almost involuntarily, his fingers grazing Asahin's jaw as he turned his face toward him. And that's when he saw it — truly saw it. Those violet eyes, clear and shimmering like cut amethyst beneath the lamplight, were too sharp, too knowing. They held an unsettling depth — a weight that hadn't been there before.

Bewitching. Familiar.

A breeze drifted through the room, carrying the faint scent of spring, chasing away the haze clouding Kaylen's thoughts. His thumb brushed against Asahin's cheek, and something clicked into place.

Yes… He was certain of it now. This was not the same Asahin he had known — the Asahin he had sparred with, argued with, resented. The soul staring back at him from those violet eyes was someone else entirely. The shift was subtle but undeniable, as though a thin veil had been drawn aside to reveal a different person beneath the familiar exterior.

Kaylen's mind raced.

Varrunna was a land of reason and science now — machines and logic dictated the flow of life — but it hadn't always been that way. Once, magic had pulsed through the veins of the kingdom, and mysticism had been revered rather than dismissed as archaic superstition. Even now, the undercurrent of that ancient power still existed beneath the surface, hidden in whispers and dark corners. There were still those who practiced the old arts — those who believed in the unseen forces that shaped the world.

Kaylen knew this better than most.

He had immersed himself in those forbidden practices once — not out of curiosity, but out of desperation. When his mother had fallen ill, he had scoured ancient texts and consulted with shadowy figures in search of a cure. And after she died, he had gone even further. He had sought forbidden rituals and unsanctioned rites, looking for any means to bring her back — or at the very least, speak to her one last time. In those years, he had seen things that defied reason. He had learned, painfully, that sometimes the impossible wasn't just possible — it was inevitable.

So as insane as it seemed, the idea that someone — or something — had taken Asahin's place didn't feel so far-fetched.

Kaylen's eyes narrowed. He was no fool — he wasn't expecting Asahin to confirm it outright. But he decided to test the waters anyway. His voice was quiet but cutting as he uttered his suspicion regarding his identity. 

A flicker. A subtle shift in Asahin's expression — the slightest widening of his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the way his breath hitched for half a second too long. A crack in the mask.

There it was.

Confirmation.

Kaylen's pulse quickened. His mind raced back to that night — the party. That was when it happened. That was when the switch occurred. The details were still murky, but his instincts had never failed him before. 

Kaylen left with the promise to return, the words lingering in the air between them like the faint trace of perfume. The idea of coming back — of seeing Asahin again — sent a strange ripple through his chest, unsettling the carefully maintained calm he always prided himself on. Excitement, light and sharp, curled beneath his ribs, a rare and almost dangerous feeling.

It wasn't like him to feel this way. But now… the thought of seeing Asahin again quickened his pulse. It was absurd — childish, even — to feel this way over something so small. And yet, he couldn't help it.

When he walked outside, the cool evening air brushing against his skin, Kaylen realized how rare it was for something — for someone — to affect him like this. He was used to stability, to predictability. Even Darrien, for all his affection, had never stirred anything quite like this. The quiet thrum beneath his skin, the low ache of curiosity mixed with something deeper — it was new, unfamiliar.

And it was dangerous.

But Kaylen found himself already looking forward to their next meeting.

As Kaylen returned to his home — not the Morrison estate, but the quiet sanctuary he had built for himself — his mind swirled with conflicting thoughts. The realization of his undeniable attraction to Asahin sat heavy in his chest, stirring something raw and unsettling beneath his ribs. After confirming that Asahin was not the same person he had once known, Kaylen had reached a quiet but resolute decision: he would end his relationship with Darrien.

He wasn't certain if what he felt for Asahin would deepen beyond this strange pull — this electric undercurrent that hummed between them — but that hardly mattered. Continuing with Darrien, knowing his heart was already turning toward someone else, would be a betrayal Kaylen couldn't stomach. He had never truly been in love with Darrien, not in the way stories and poetry described it, in the way his parents had loved one another. But Kaylen had believed that devotion and loyalty could be enough. He had convinced himself that caring for Darrien, standing by him, and giving him a stable life would eventually grow into love. Perhaps, after bonding, it would have happened naturally.

But now Kaylen knew better. He had never expected to experience the kind of all-consuming passion his parents had shared — that rare, fated connection that only a handful of couples ever experienced. He had made peace with that long ago. Love, after all, was a gift — not a promise. But even if he had settled for something quieter, something simpler with Darrien, it would have still required honesty and faithfulness. And this… this quiet treason of the heart — thinking about Asahin even as Darrien stood by his side — was unacceptable. If he couldn't give Darrien his whole heart, then there was no future for them.

Kaylen had always envisioned a single bond for life. His parents had taught him that devotion was sacred — a commitment not to be taken lightly. Alphas were known to form multiple bonds, some simultaneously, others sequentially — breaking one to create another. But the cost was always borne by the bonded partner. Once bonded, the partner would be tethered to the alpha, unable to form another bond even after the connection was broken. The emotional and physiological aftermath of severing a bond was brutal — scarring the partner in ways that even time couldn't heal.

In rare cases, an alpha allowed their bonded partner to imprint on them in return — a mutual bond that fused their souls in a way that could never be undone. To break such a connection would invite catastrophic consequences, both physical and psychological. It was a dangerous and permanent union, which was why alphas tread carefully when allowing such vulnerability. Once an alpha and their partner were imprinted on each other, the alpha could no longer bond with anyone else. It was the ultimate declaration of exclusivity, of trust.

Kaylen had witnessed the aftermath of such a bond firsthand. His father had never sought another partner after his mother's death, not only because of the physical and mental toll but because of the emotional devastation. His father had been utterly broken — hollowed out in a way that left him incapable of loving anyone else. Kaylen had always known he would never expect or even desire that depth of connection for himself. Stability and loyalty would have been enough.

But now… now even that simple path was no longer an option. He could not knowingly forge a bond with Darrien while his heart was drifting toward someone else. That would be dishonest — unfair to both of them. Even if Darrien never suspected the truth, Kaylen would know. And that knowledge would rot their relationship from the inside out.

The decision was made. There would be no turning back. Ending things with Darrien wouldn't be easy — but Kaylen would not build a future on falsehoods.