Synopsis

When Asher was born, a genetic test predicted a hundred percent chance that he would present as a top-tier Alpha.

Taking that destiny to heart, he spent the next decade and a half evolving into a world-class troublemaker. He was the campus king, the undisputed heartthrob, and the perennial top of the class.

That was until his childhood nemesis from next door transferred back. Not only did the guy steal his title as the school’s most popular, but he also snatched the academic crown right out of Asher's hands.

But worst of all—the bastard had the audacity to present as a top-tier Alpha first.

To this, Asher declared that Riverdale wasn't big enough for two Alphas. If he didn't run that prick Sebastian out of town, he didn't deserve to call himself an Alpha!

Then, as if the universe had a twisted sense of humor, Asher presented as an Omega that very night—right in front of Sebastian.

Asher swore to be an Omega with some damn spine. Even if he went into heat, even if he forgot his suppressants, even if he died right then and there, he would never, ever let Sebastian mark him!

Sebastian could only coax him in a low, husky voice: "Let me have one bite, and I'll give you the number one spot on the final exams."

Tempted beyond reason by the pheromones, Asher succumbed.

When the results were finally posted, Asher stared at the "Rank 1: Sebastian" on the Honor Roll, absolutely losing his mind.

"Sebastian, you absolute liar! You beat me by one point again!"

Sebastian chuckled softly. "What's the problem? I am the rank one, and I'm giving myself to you."

Chapter 1

Summer in Southaven was always accompanied by the monsoon season. Once August arrived, the rain seemed like it would never end.

Outside the window, the daylight was dim, and rainwater rattled against the glass with a sharp pitter-patter. Inside the classroom of Grade 12, Class 1 at Southaven Prep, the fluorescent lights were glaringly bright. A group of students was huddled together, pens flying across paper as they rushed to copy a set of answers.

"Caleb, seriously, are you even human? Your handwriting is so hideous, who the hell can read this?"

"How dare you talk to your father like that? Copy it or don't, but shut the hell up."

"Dad, I was wrong. Hey, Dad, can you give me the English paper too? I’ll copy with both hands at once, please, Dad."

The roar of the storm and the clamor of the classroom blurred together. The boy sleeping face-down on his desk in the last row by the window shifted with a hint of irritation.

The fingers resting against the back of his head curled slightly, scratching through his hair in frustration. Then, with an effort, he straightened up, leaned back until his chair tilted on two legs, and let his arms hang lifelessly by his sides while his long legs stretched out lazily across the floor.

His dark, exquisite eyes were heavy with sleep, casting faint shadows against his pale skin.

Caleb, sitting at the desk in front, glanced back. He knew the young master was suffering from his usual morning grumpiness.

"Ash, you’re awake? Were we too loud?"

"Mm, it’s fine."

Caleb let out a breath of relief. "But Ash, you’ve slept through the whole morning. Don't you need to catch up on the summer assignments?"

Asher flicked his gaze up. "Do I look like the kind of person who does summer homework?"

The boy's voice—low, slightly raspy from sleep, and tinged with impatience—rippled through the classroom. The homework-copying squad immediately froze and looked up.

During student years, there was always a psychological safety in numbers, and a belief that the "Rank 1" student was untouchable. It seemed as if as long as they committed a crime alongside the teacher's golden boy, they would be spared from heavy punishment.

And Asher was clearly the "golden boy."

"Thank you, Ash, for the grace of not doing homework."

"The way Ash doesn't do homework is exactly what love looks like."

"Another day of falling for Ash."

As a straight Alpha through and through, Asher truly couldn't stand the flashy, flirtatious looks from these guys. He looked down, pulled his phone from his desk, and added nonchalantly: "I already told Mr. Bennett. The summer assignments were too easy, so I’m doing competition problems on my own."

"..."

As the top private school in Southaven, Southaven Prep never had "easy" exams or assignments, ensuring a top-tier university acceptance rate of over ninety percent.

For this twenty-five-day summer break, they had issued twenty-five sets of papers—a total of one hundred and fifty sheets across six subjects, all modeled after the most difficult university entrance exams from previous years.

And this beast just said the reason he wasn't doing them was because they were too easy.

How the hell could he say that out loud?

The crowd was incensed.

Meanwhile, the perpetrator was simply staring down at his phone.

He seemed to be in a better mood after his successful display of arrogance; his morning grumpiness had faded significantly. A flippant, stray smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he rocked his chair back restlessly. He looked every bit the nonchalant rebel.

Combined with what he had just said, he looked like a total show-off.

They wanted to hit him.

But they couldn't win the fight.

The crowd lowered their heads and went back to their homework.

Fine, peace brings wealth. Let's be the bigger people.

The classroom finally quieted down. Asher put on his headphones and tapped a voice message from his mother, Victoria.

— Ash, did you go to school today?

— Your school is too much. It's only mid-August and they've already started classes, forcing a mother and son apart. Don't worry, as soon as I’m back in the country, I’m going to the Board of Education to file a complaint.

— But Ash, are you sure you won't come to Los Angeles? The new villa your dad bought here is in a perfect location—plenty of sun, private beach. Your dad and I are living the dream here, we just really miss you.

— Why don't you listen to me? Come play for two weeks, and we'll go back together in September, okay? It’s not like ten days of school will make a difference for you anyway.

Victoria clearly lacked the typical self-awareness of a parent with a child in their senior year.

Asher smirked. Just as he was about to play the next message, the back door was slammed open with a "bang."

A slender figure darted in and skidded to a halt in front of Asher. Hands braced on the desk, leaning over and gasping for air, the newcomer shouted, "Holy crap, Ash! Did you know a new transfer student is joining our class this semester?"

Asher lifted an eyelid. "Is he sick in the head?"

If a good student from a good school stayed put, their university recommendations or even early admissions would be guaranteed. There was no reason to transfer at this critical juncture.

And for students who weren't at that level, transferring into Southaven Prep’s elite science track during senior year was basically a suicide mission—pure masochism.

It was hard to imagine what kind of idiot would be so short-sighted.

Caleb found it strange too. He turned around, looking skeptical. "For real? Is your source reliable?"

Milo said hurriedly, "It’s true! Why would I lie to you? I just heard it in Mr. Bennett’s office. Apparently, he transferred from Northmont. Word is, he was the top scorer for the entire city in the last joint exam."

At the mention of "Top Scorer," the group perked up. "Then his admission to the top national universities should have been a lock. Why would he run all the way down south?"

Milo shrugged. "Who knows?"

Asher had zero interest in the self-destruction of an idiot. He looked down and tapped the next voice message.

— But it’s fine if you don't want to come. It just so happens your Grandpa Sebastian said you should go to their place for dinner these next few days. Their kid is back.

Asher’s finger froze.

Beside him, Milo was still rambling. "Hey, let me look up who the top scorer of the Northmont joint exam was... Holy sh—! He’s actually hot! Ash, do all you geniuses have to be this handsome now? Even his name sounds cool. Sebastian... 'Nights at Sebastian's'..."

Just then, Victoria’s next voice message played automatically.

— It’s that Sebastian, you know. The one you used to play with when you were little.

The slight curve of Asher’s lips vanished.

Asher’s hostility toward Sebastian had likely begun in his infancy.

Back then, the six-month-old Baby Asher, having mastered the art of crawling, began to tremulously learn how to walk upright. But every step resulted in a tumble onto his diaper—thud after thud, at least seventy or eighty times. Baby Asher couldn't handle the humiliation. His mouth puckered, and he let out a loud "Waaa!"

Meanwhile, Baby Sebastian, who was already over a year old, watched the miserable, sobbing Baby Asher for a full ten minutes. Finally, he put down his toys, stood up, walked all the way over to him, and said two words in a cool, baby-ish voice: "Watch me."

Pure and innocent Baby Asher actually lifted his round little face, blinking his eyes as he looked at his "Big Brother Sebastian," naively thinking he had come to comfort him.

And then, Baby Sebastian proceeded to walk a full circle around the nursery right in front of him.

Steady and poised. Practically a power-walk.

After finishing the lap, he looked down at Asher with a slight tilt of his head.

There was a subtle hint of disdain in his eyes.

Logically, an infant shouldn't understand a concept like disdain. But at that moment, Asher was convinced he saw it in Sebastian's gaze—a justified, crushing contempt.

This left a massive scar on Baby Asher’s tiny soul, one that only deepened and spread as he and Sebastian clashed throughout their upbringing.

It reached a point where Asher actually broke physiological limits to remember this trivial nursery incident for over a decade.

The trauma had only been briefly soothed when Asher learned his genetic testing predicted him as a top-tier Alpha, while Sebastian was supposedly just a fragile Omega.

Fine, just a little Omega. I’ll go easy on him.

The tension in Asher’s spine relaxed.

Then, the back door was slammed open again with a "bang."

This time, it was accompanied by a high-pitched squeal. "Omigod! Girls! The transfer student in our class is an Alpha! And he is freaking hot! I caught just a tiny whiff of his pheromones when I walked past him, and I think I'm already pregnant with his second child!"

Clang—

The sound of metal hitting marble echoed from the back corner.

Asher’s tilted chair landed firmly back on the floor.

Milo, sitting next to him, practically levitated. "Holy crap, Mom, take me to see him! I want a sniff too!"

After his excitement, he realized the atmosphere beside him was a bit off. He immediately put on a solemn face. "But I’m sure he’s not as hot as my Ash. Once Ash presents, he’ll definitely be the most Alpha Alpha in Southaven, bar none!"

He turned to Asher. "But Ash, you turned seventeen over the summer, right? Why haven't you presented yet? I think you’re the only one left in our grade."

Asher’s mood was turning sour, but it didn't stop him from showing off. "We top-tier Alphas always present late."

He paused, then added: "Because we’re powerful."

Milo thought about it and found it logical.

He had known Asher since seventh grade, and he had never seen him be anything but Rank 1. He was good at sports, great at fighting, six-feet tall with pale skin, long legs, and a face that launched a thousand sighs. His "peach blossom" eyes had hooked the souls of countless Omegas.

There was even a group at Southaven Prep called [I Want to Carry Ash's Baby], which was not only packed with lovestruck Omegas and Betas but even a few lust-crazed Alphas who were willing to risk it all.

Such was Asher’s charm.

Thinking of this, Milo playfully blew a kiss toward Asher. "Ash, hurry up and present. I’m still waiting to chase you."

Asher curled his lip nonchalantly. "What, you won't chase me if I’m not an Alpha?"

"Obviously. Sweet little Omegas like us only like 'Super Alphas.' Everyone else is just a 'sister'." Milo was shamelessly flirtatious. "So don't worry, Ash. I’ll stay chaste for you until you present as a top-tier Alpha!"

Just as Milo finished, the honest and rustic voice of the homeroom teacher, Mr. Bennett, came from the doorway. "Everyone quiet down. Stop the noise. If you're eating or playing on your phones, stop. And those of you copying homework, put it away for a second. I have two important things to say."

"First, we have a new classmate joining us this semester—"

Everyone turned their heads toward the door in unison. Only Asher kept his head down, fiddling with his phone with an expression of total indifference.

What was there to see? He couldn't be more handsome than me.

Then, he heard Milo swallow hard beside him. "Uh, Ash... sorry. I take it back. I don't think I can stay chaste for you. This is... actually a bit too much to handle."

"..."

Asher felt personally offended.

He flicked his gaze up, looking toward the door with displeasure.

Outside, the rain was torrential and the sky was dark. Inside, the room was silent and brightly lit.

The boy stood at the boundary of light and shadow. He was tall, his expression indifferent. The fluorescent light glazed his cool, pale skin, giving his sharp, somewhat delicate features a cold, biting edge.

A pair of gold-rimmed glasses sat on the high bridge of his nose, making his amber eyes look even more detached. His white shirt was buttoned to the very top, exactly at the point of his prominent Adam's apple.

The more restrained he looked, the more primal the allure became. Even the tiny mole under the corner of his left eye breathed an air of a "refined predator."

Everything about him was an eyesore.

Asher's mood suddenly plummeted. Generally, when he was in a bad mood, he liked to make others feel even worse.

His fingers tapped slowly against the desk. His voice was laced with a sleepy, lazy arrogance.

"Milo, your taste is really going downhill."

The voice wasn't loud, but it was just enough for the person at the door to hear.