Eren felt Tyler's hostility still clinging to him like smoke, so he chose to step away before it grew worse. Catching Akira and Laylah's eyes, he forced a polite smile.
"I need some air," he murmured.
They exchanged a knowing glance. "Take your time," Laylah said gently, watching him retreat to the quieter edges of the hall.
From a distance, Eren let himself focus on Adriel's voice, strong and commanding from the stage. The Alpha's presence anchored him, soothing the frayed edges of his nerves. But peace didn't last.
A man approached, his steps measured, his confidence almost magnetic. Two champagne flutes gleamed in his hands, catching the ballroom lights.
"Evening," he said smoothly, flashing a smile that was equal parts charm and challenge.
Eren straightened. "Hello," he answered, his tone cautious.
"Pablo Ortez." The stranger extended his hand, his grip firm, lingering a fraction longer than necessary. "You've managed to capture quite a bit of attention tonight. I couldn't resist coming over."
Eren inclined his head, keeping his response polite. "Eren."
Pablo handed him one of the glasses. The bubbles rose in a delicate stream, the faint scent of champagne mixing with the man's sharper Alpha presence. Eren hesitated. Drinking was out of the question—yet refusal might spark questions. He accepted it, letting the stem rest cool against his fingers without lifting it to his lips.
"You seem close to President Ulrick," Pablo said casually, though his eyes were anything but. "Not many Omegas walk in on his arm."
Eren's pulse jumped. Around them, he could feel the weight of glances—curious, envious, calculating. "Everyone knows him," he replied, keeping his voice even. His gaze slid instinctively to the stage, where Adriel was speaking. For one charged instant, their eyes locked across the crowd, sending an involuntary shiver through Eren.
Pablo noticed. His smile sharpened. "Ah. So it is personal. That explains the whispers." He leaned closer, voice dropping just above a growl. "Men like him attract all kinds of parasites. I imagine his family is already questioning what you're after."
The air between them thickened, Pablo's scent pressing in. Eren's instincts screamed submission, his chest tight with the urge to step back. But pride rooted him to the spot. He met Pablo's gaze and forced steel into his voice.
"I didn't ask to be here. And I don't owe you answers."
Pablo's brows lifted, amusement flickering. "Sharp tongue."
Eren's temper finally cracked. "If Ulrick hires lawyers like you, I wonder how the company's reputation survives."
The smile vanished from Pablo's face, replaced with a flash of irritation—but before he could retort, the lights dimmed. A hush fell over the hall.
The stage bathed in gold as a renowned singer's first notes drifted out, velvet and haunting. The room swelled with music, every head turning toward the performance. And then Adriel descended the steps, cutting through the crowd with unhurried confidence.
Eren's breath caught when the Alpha came straight to him. Adriel's eyes ignored Pablo entirely as he extended his hand to Eren.
The spotlight shifted, catching them both. The hall waited, hushed, breathless, as if the night itself hinged on Eren's choice.
"May I have this dance?" Adriel's voice was gentle, yet it carried the weight of command.
Eren froze, heart pounding. "Ah—" The protest caught in his throat. Before he could find the words, Adriel plucked the untouched champagne from his hand and set it firmly into Pablo's. The other man blinked in surprise, forced to accept the gesture.
"Dance with me," Adriel said, not as a request but as inevitability. His hand closed around Eren's, steady, unyielding.
Eren's breath hitched. He could have refused—but no part of him truly wanted to. "I… I'll try," he murmured, voice thin with nerves.
The music softened, a slow, romantic melody spilling into the room as Adriel led him to the center of the floor. The lights dimmed to a warm glow, the spotlight catching them both. A hush rippled through the crowd, whispers breaking like waves at the edges.
Adriel placed his hand on Eren's waist, guiding him close. Eren's other hand rested awkwardly against Adriel's shoulder, his pulse racing with every step. The Alpha's scent—warm, steadying, dominant—wrapped around him, coaxing his body into rhythm even when his mind stumbled. For a moment, it felt as though the hall itself faded away, leaving only the two of them moving together in time.
"You look remarkable tonight," Adriel whispered, his lips near enough that Eren felt the brush of breath against his ear.
Eren flushed hot, instinct and pride colliding. "You… you always say things like that. I'm not used to being seen this way."
"That's why I'll keep saying it," Adriel replied, his tone unwavering, his gaze never leaving Eren's. "I want everyone to know you're mine."
The words struck deep, a mix of pride and fear tightening in Eren's chest. Around them, murmurs filled the air as the Crimson Fate brooch caught the spotlight, burning red against Eren's suit like fire made flesh. Guests watched with a mixture of awe, envy, and disbelief.
Adriel twirled him smoothly, drawing him back into his arms with practiced grace. The hall erupted in applause as the song swelled, but to Eren it was distant, muffled. He was caught in Adriel's steady hold, his body betraying him by relaxing, leaning into the Alpha's certainty.
As the final note lingered, Adriel kept his hand firm on Eren's waist, eyes locked on his. For a heartbeat, the room ceased to exist.
Then the applause broke, thunderous and unrelenting.
Guiding him off the floor, Adriel bent close, voice low and possessive. "What was that man saying to you?"
Eren blinked, caught off guard. He followed Adriel's glance toward Pablo, who still lingered at the edge of the crowd, his expression unreadable.
"Oh. Him?" Eren's lips curled faintly, his voice edged with disdain. "Nothing worth repeating."
Adriel's grip tightened at his waist, a quiet promise in the pressure. "Good. Because I don't intend to share."
"Do you know him?" Adriel asked as he pulled out a chair and waited for Eren to sit. The care in his movements was deliberate, as though he were placing something precious at the center of the room.
Eren sank into the seat, adjusting his jacket. "He said his name was Pablo Ortez. Said he works on one of your legal teams." Irritation edged his voice.
Adriel's mouth curved into a low chuckle, his eyes fixed on Eren. "He got under your skin." He set a napkin across Eren's lap himself, an intimate gesture that drew more stares than words. At the same table, Guiller, James, and Tyler sat stone-still, their curiosity barely concealed.
"He's arrogant," Eren muttered.
Adriel hummed in agreement, his expression sobering. "He offered you champagne. Did you drink it?" The question carried quiet concern, his gaze steady.
"No." Eren shook his head. "I wouldn't. Not with… everything." His hand brushed the brooch at his chest unconsciously.
Adriel's shoulders eased. "Good." His voice softened. "You did well."
For a moment, Adriel simply studied him, then reached across to brush a stray lock of red hair back from Eren's forehead. The touch sent a charge through Eren's chest, his pulse skipping in betrayal of his composed mask.
"I'll get you something better," Adriel said, signaling a server. When the tray returned—laden with delicacies, fresh strawberries, and a goblet of milk—Adriel slid it toward Eren with quiet finality, as though daring anyone at the table to question it.
The room didn't. But silence pressed heavy around them. Guiller's jaw worked as he watched, his fingers tightening imperceptibly against the tablecloth. James's eyes flicked between the brooch and Adriel's hand still resting near Eren's. Tyler leaned back in his chair, smirking faintly as though enjoying the tension.
To them, the scene was unthinkable: the president of Ulrick Corporation tending to a secretary with open, unguarded devotion.
To Eren, it was worse—because Adriel's every gesture felt both like comfort and like a claim.
"A special chef prepared this just for you," Adriel said, setting the tray before Eren with a smile bright enough to soften the entire hall. "You can't go hungry—not tonight. The evening has only just begun." His voice carried a quiet insistence, protective yet gentle.
Eren's gaze lingered on the food—ripe strawberries gleaming like rubies, a goblet of milk catching the glow of the chandeliers. The scent was sweet, comforting, but it wasn't the food that caught in his throat. It was Adriel, leaning closer, his dark eyes warm with unshakable sincerity, as though nothing else in the world mattered but him.
Gratitude burned in Eren's chest, followed quickly by a pang of fear. His fingers curled against his lap, nails digging lightly into his palm to keep steady. This attention, this care—it was dangerous. He wanted to lean into it, to let himself belong in the safety of Adriel's orbit. But he couldn't.
He lowered his eyes, fighting to steady his breath. I can't let myself fall. This glittering ballroom, this tender treatment, this fragile warmth—it wasn't his to keep. He was only here until the child came. And when it did, the illusion would shatter, no matter how much his heart ached otherwise.