My eyes snapped open to a velvet canopy hanging above me, and my head pounded like I’d chugged a keg of that crash-course PowerPoint while images flashed fast in my mind—alphas rutting hard like beasts, omegas leaking slick in helpless waves, bites sealing fates forever with bloody claims.
What the hell did that smug cat do?
That fucking cat!
We haven’t even had a proper discussion before it decided to reincarnate me.
It reincarnated me here without mercy.
I was a dude—a struggling actor who loved action flicks and hated romance novels so much I wouldn’t touch one with a ten-foot pole.
Total mistake!
But no, the Cat-Eyed Virtuous Wife Redemption System had big, twisted plans for me.
I call it CVWRS because acronyms make suffering sound official and less insane.
One zap hit me out of nowhere, and I landed smack in an omega girl’s body.
What even is an omega?
Fertile bait trapped in brutal heat cycles?
Why am I a girl now, complete with all the cursed parts?
A man reincarnated in a woman’s body is more of a nightmare than a female in man’s body.
My heart hammered like a drum in my chest while sweat beaded cold on my skin—this was real life, no dream escape, no respawn button to save me.
I pinched my arm hard just to test, and it hurt sharp, confirming the nightmare.
“Ouch!
It hurts!” Am I squeamish now too?
I looked down slow and took stock, freezing solid at the impossible sight.
Long blonde hair spilled soft and tangled over my milky-white skin, which glowed warm and flawless in the morning light filtering through gauzy white curtains that billowed gently.
I picked up a mirror from the bedside table, looking at myself.
Full pouty lips trembled on my face, paired with high cheekbones like a runway model’s and a delicate nose dusted with faint freckles—it looked exactly like a porcelain doll straight from a trashy romance novel cover, the kind I’d always mocked.
But I am not the protagonist.
I am just a cannon fodder wife.
My hands shook hard as I patted my body down in disbelief—perky C-cups heaved fast with each ragged breath, straining the thin fabric; a nipped-in waist curved gracefully in before wide fertile hips flared out invitingly; smooth endless thighs rubbed together with a slick whisper, screaming ‘breed me’ to any alpha nearby.
This was not me at all.
I had become a bombshell omega waif, built for sin, submission, and knots, dropped into a world that ate cocky rebels like me for breakfast without a second thought.
The nightgown made it all so much worse, amplifying every wrong feeling.
Silky pale lavender chiffon stuck tight to every curve like it was painted on, with sheer panels teasing my nipples and shadowing the dip of my navel in the soft light.
“Why am I so pretty in this dangerous world?
If I had to be a woman, I should have been an alpha!”
The short hem rode up high as cool air kissed my bare skin from the open window, sending unwelcome shivers deep into my core where a faint, traitorous warmth began to stir.
“I am not liking this one bit!”
Delicate lace edged the plunging neckline while spaghetti straps slipped off one shoulder carelessly—it screamed ‘seduce your alpha wife’ in every frill and reeked of a sweet scent.
A mixture of strawberries and milk pheromones that weren’t mine, making my nose twitch and my stomach flip.
I felt so exposed and totally ridiculous, like a dressed-up mannequin trapped in someone else’s gilded cage, waiting for the plot to devour me.
My legs wobbled weak because they felt thicker and softer than my old scrawny ones’ ever did.
I threw off the embroidered silk covers—they pooled in a shimmering heap on the floor—and staggered up slow, with bare feet hitting the plush Persian rug where soft fibres tickled my soles and sent odd tingles up my spine.
I piloted this strange meat suit clumsily as the room spun around me in opulent detail—a massive bed stood tall under crimson velvet drapes that smelled faintly of roses, floral wallpaper burst with red roses climbing the walls in pure Victorian style.
A vanity sat pretty with sparkling perfume bottles, jewelled combs, and suppressants in elegant labels marked ‘Omega Heat Block—Daily Dose, Extra Strength,’ and a gilded mirror loomed big like a judgmental throne.
I lurched right to it as my stomach churned violently, almost puking on the priceless rug.
Big doe eyes stared back—sapphire blue pools with thick lashes fluttering wild in panic—while plump lips parted wide and blonde waves tumbled messy over my shoulders.
It felt so foreign and utterly wrong, a stranger wearing my soul.
My slender hands gripped the gold frame tight, nails shining manicured in pearl pink with tiny floral designs.
“This can’t be real,” I whispered low in a husky alto voice that vibrated strange and feminine in my throat.
I cleared it roughly and felt my Adam’s apple gone forever, replaced by soft skin.
CVWRS appeared fast in a puff of pink sparkles that filled the air with a sugary scent.
The smug cat, size of a loaf with glossy black fur, floated up effortlessly with disco-ball eyes gleaming bright and judgmental.
It stretched lazy in mid-air, meowed loud and mocking, and hovered right at my eye level like a holographic butler straight from hell.
“Yo, Host!
Damn, you look fine in that gown—prime omega bait ready for the rut season.
I knew that you had the allure!”
“What do you mean ‘yo’?
Why am I stuck in a woman’s body like this?
Fix this shit now, you furry glitch!”
“I told you already, didn’t I?”
“Yes, I can’t still believe this.
Can you give me a reason?”
It flicked its fluffy tail and circled me once slow, inspecting every curve.
“Smart guy asks the dumbest question ever.
I am the Virtuous Wife Redemption System—your one-way ticket to redemption glory, like it or not.”
“You know I am a guy, right?
Ex-actor hustling bit parts in dive bars, broke as dirt, zero game in romance or this ABO crap!” I am not proud of myself—I am at best a loser.
“I don’t care one bit about your old life.
You fit all the conditions perfect, down to the last heartbreak.”
“What conditions exactly?
Spell them out, furball!”
“Struggling actor scraping by on dive bars with bit parts only, killer face that turns every head twice, good-for-nothing slacker vibe through and through, total heartbreaker pro who leaves trails of tears.”
“Heartbreaker?
Total bull!
I never broke any hearts on purpose.
I kept my virtue pure—celibate monk life, no hookups!”
Words rushed out hot as the traitorous truth slipped free despite myself.
I slapped my manicured hand over my mouth fast and tasted sweet strawberry gloss, sticky and cloying on my lips.
The cat smirked wide while its whiskers twitched happy—it clearly loved my full freakout meltdown.
“Boom.
You answered it yourself, Host, loud and clear.
Broke hearts left and right with that pretty face and charm, ghosted dates cold without a text, but kept your virtue locked tight and virginity pristine as fresh snow.
Perfect host material for this gig.”
“Can you not say this?”
“You know this world good now?
ABO rules hit hard and don’t forgive—alphas dominate everything with ruts and commands, omegas submit or suffer the haze, heats turn you into slick-dripping wrecks begging for knots without suppressants—welcome to knot city, baby.”
“Yeah, your PowerPoint was pure hell to sit through.
Female alphas too, with their ruts raging wild, knots locking deep.
Got it all now.”
“You have a lot of knowledge about women clothing, and styles.
Host, do you have some weird kinks?”
“No!
Are you an idiot?
I worked as a woman in some movies in my past life.
So, yes—I have some knowledge.”
“Good girl already—see how natural that sounds?
Be super careful out there because your pheromones will draw rogue alphas fast, sniffing you like fresh meat.”
“Why is that such a big problem for the plot?”
“Get marked by some random alpha outside the canon plot?
Poof, game over hard—no redemption arc left, just side-character trash bin.
See those suppressants on the vanity?
Pop them like candy, twice a day minimum, or feel the burn.
Can’t let that happen ever, or you’re erased.”
“But this is…
will I have to take these?”
“You won’t have to—if the female lead marks you.”
I spun to the vanity quick, grabbed a bottle where tiny blue pills rattled inside, and dry-swallowed one down—the bitter taste hit my tongue sharp and burned all the way down my throat like chemical fire.
A faint calm spread, dulling that core warmth for now.
The cat sighed, “You are too scared of this, Host.
Look, after you complete the last task—I will add another reward for you.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Your reward is—no heat.
No weakness.”
“Really?!
Thank you!”
“Don’t be so happy.
Your target is the female lead out there.
Charm her smooth and subtle, redeem your virtue wife role full throttle, derail that nasty divorce plot she’s headed for.”