"You're awake," Adriel murmured, voice low and steady.
He was propped against the headboard, glasses sliding down his nose, a book loose in one hand. His other arm was curled protectively around Eren, who was still nestled against his chest. He hadn't moved—hadn't dared to—since the omega had fallen asleep.
The doctor had come and gone. Twice, Adriel had called again, just to confirm. No toxins lingering. No lasting damage. The baby safe. But the warning had been sharp: high-risk pregnancy. One wrong move, and everything could spiral.
And then the doctor's voice—stern, unrelenting—echoed again:
"Bond him, Adriel. Mark him before it's too late. An unbonded omega carrying is always unstable. Stress can turn deadly. You won't get a third chance if his body rejects the pregnancy."
Adriel's throat tightened. He hadn't argued. He hadn't been able to. He'd just sat there, listening, his chest hollow while Eren lay unconscious and bruised beside him.
Bond him. Mark him. Or lose him.
Eren blinked, slowly realizing where he was. His cheek was pressed against Adriel's chest, the steady alpha heartbeat grounding him. He tilted his head up. Adriel's face was calm, unreadable, glasses catching the light as he read.
"How're you feeling?" Adriel asked, closing the book without looking away.
Eren pushed himself upright, wincing. His gaze dropped to the bruise on his arm. Instinctively, he covered it with his hand. The motion sent a sour tang of shame into the air.
Adriel's jaw tightened. His pheromones pulsed low, heavy, curling possessively through the room. That bruise was another reminder—another wound he hadn't stopped.
"Adriel…" Eren whispered.
"You're probably hungry," Adriel said instead, already moving to set the blanket aside. "You need to eat. I'll make something."
He stood, but froze when Eren grabbed his hand. The omega's grip was weak, trembling, but his scent clung desperately to Adriel's, trying to anchor him.
"Are you mad?" Eren asked, voice barely steady. His pheromones fluttered thin, frayed with fear. That quiet storm rolling off Adriel scared him more than any shout ever could.
"Mad?" Adriel echoed, turning slowly. His own pheromones spiked sharp and suffocating, then reined back with visible effort. "Who should I be mad at, Eren? You? That sleazy mall owner? Or the fact that you almost didn't make it home?"
His voice cracked—raw, jagged. The doctor's warning flared in his skull again. Bond him. Before it's too late.
"I wasn't careful," Eren said, pulling his hand back, his scent shrinking into submission. "It was stupid. I should've known better. And now the partnership—"
"Forget the damn partnership!" Adriel snapped, his voice rising like a whip. His pheromones lashed hot and furious, making Eren flinch.
"You think I care about that deal?" He stepped closer, dominance rolling off him in waves. "You think that's more important than you? Than our baby?"
He shook his head, breath uneven, chest heaving. "Do you really think I'm that shallow, Eren? That small?"
Eren swallowed hard. His alpha never called him by his name. It was always Red. Always tender, always teasing.
But now… now Adriel's voice was stripped bare. Fury. Fear. Heartbreak. And under it, that pulsing, gnawing truth he couldn't say aloud: Unbonded. Unsafe. One step closer to losing everything.
Adriel set a plate down with a thud on the nightstand. The food's scent mingled with his own, rich and commanding. "Eat," he said, voice low but unyielding. "You haven't touched anything all day. I'm not letting my kid starve just because you feel like punishing yourself."
The words cut—but then his hand brushed the hair from Eren's damp forehead, lingering just a second too long. His pheromones softened, wrapping warm and steady around the trembling omega like a shield.
Eren's chest ached. Tears welled in his eyes despite himself, his instincts soaking in the comfort. Even if Adriel's words stung, his scent told the truth.
He was safe. Protected. Claimed—even if not marked yet.
And Adriel knew: soon, he wouldn't have a choice.
His voice was low, but the edge was unmistakable. Adriel didn't wait for a reply—just turned on his heel and walked out, leaving Eren frozen on the bed.
The door clicked shut.
And then the tears came.
Eren blinked fast, trying to hold them back, but it was useless. His chest ached, his throat tight. The room still reeked of Adriel's pheromones—sharp, storm-heavy, dominance lingering even after he left.
It pressed down on him, made his own scent scatter weak and bitter with grief. He hugged himself, shivering. Adriel was angry. Really angry. Not the quiet kind that simmered under his skin—this was different. This time, he'd pushed him too far.
Outside, James leaned against the hallway wall, arms crossed. He straightened when Adriel stepped out.
"You yelled at him," James said, half-smirking. "That's new. Trouble in paradise?"
Adriel didn't answer. His jaw was clenched, eyes dark, pheromones rolling sharp enough that James instinctively straightened, his smirk faltering. He knew better than to push.
Eren was still holed up in the Ulrick mansion. Adriel hadn't mentioned going back to their condo—and by the look of things, he didn't plan to. James had seen him arrive earlier, carrying Eren like he weighed nothing—unconscious, pale, his scent faint and frayed. Roen had followed close behind, dragging the family doctor in tow. Adriel must've called him the second things went south.
"That Claude really knows how to mess with him," James muttered under his breath, watching his uncle stride past.
He knew about the meeting—Claude, the mall owner, and whatever disaster had gone down. Judging by Eren's state, it hadn't ended well. And just like he suspected, the partnership between Ulrick Jewels and the mall was officially dead. Word had already reached Bernard, Adriel's father, and Guiller, his older brother. Their grandfather? Furious.
Earlier, while Eren slept, Adriel had been summoned to the study.
Bernard didn't waste time.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he snapped, pacing like a storm. His pheromones lashed sharp and biting, authority pressing into the room. "You just threw away a deal with one of the most powerful mall chains in the country. Do you even understand how much influence they have?"
Adriel stood tall, shoulders squared, his own scent rising to meet his father's—dense, oppressive, coiling like smoke. Guiller and James shifted uneasily at the side, caught between the two alphas' dominance clash.
"They're not a loss to Ulrick Jewels," Adriel said, voice steady. His pheromones rolled low, refusing to yield.
Bernard slammed his hand on the desk, the sharp crack echoing. "Stupid!"
"You know how twisted that man is," Bernard went on, voice low but biting. "And you still thought you could afford to spit in his face?"
Adriel didn't blink. His scent sharpened, lethal. "And? You'd rather he laid hands on my omega just to save your precious partnership?"
Bernard scoffed, his pheromones spiking with disdain. "Omega? Wife? Just because you're playing house doesn't make it real. Did I ever give you my blessing? You went behind my back. You married him without my consent. Claude was the only one—"
Adriel snapped forward, his pheromones exploding into the air, slamming against Bernard's like a physical blow. The room froze under the weight of it.
"Then why don't you marry him?" His voice was venom, raw dominance vibrating in every word. "You like him, don't you?"
The silence that followed was crushing.
Guiller stiffened, his eyes darting between father and brother. James's smirk vanished entirely. Even Bernard, for a heartbeat, faltered under the sheer force of Adriel's fury.
The air in the study was thick, suffocating—two generations of alphas locked in a battle that had nothing to do with jewels and everything to do with power, loyalty, and the omega at the center of it all.
Guiller and James exchanged wide-eyed glances.
"What did you just say?" Bernard asked, stunned.
Adriel's tone turned cold, his scent sharp as steel. "Stop pushing Claude on me. That's done. I already agreed to let him work at Ulrick Jewels. That's all he is getting."
He turned and walked out, leaving Bernard speechless, the heavy clash of dominance still hanging in the air. James's eyes followed him, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. Adriel had always been the only one bold enough to stand against Bernard—the head of the Ulrick family. He wasn't scared of losing his inheritance. He didn't have to be. With the shares he'd inherited from his late mother, Adriel was untouchable. Not even Bernard could cut him off.
No one dared cross Adriel. They knew better. As he headed down the stairs, his pheromones still bristling like a stormcloud, James followed, curiosity tugging at him.
"He is still asleep?" James asked casually, trailing behind.
Adriel didn't answer. James smirked, his own scent curling sly, goading. "I wonder how grandpa Bernard would react if he found out your omega used to be my fiancée."
Adriel stopped mid-step.
Right. James was his first love. The omega he'd once claimed. The one who nearly married him before being abandoned at the altar. The one Adriel had taken in when no one else did.
If it weren't for James, Eren wouldn't have fallen into his life. Adriel wouldn't have married him. Wouldn't be carrying his child. Wouldn't be caught in this mess.
"It's kind of my fault, huh?" James said, half-laughing, his pheromones curling sharp and taunting. "If I hadn't—"
He didn't finish.
Adriel spun around, his scent exploding into the hallway, dense and suffocating. He grabbed James by the collar and slammed him against the wall, the crack echoing.
"Uncle Adriel—" James gasped, hands clawing at Adriel's grip as it tightened around his throat. His own pheromones faltered, sour and weak under the sheer weight of Adriel's dominance.
Adriel's face was dark, eyes burning with restrained fury. His scent was everywhere—thick, wild, protective—an alpha on the edge of snapping.
"You're pissed because of him?" James choked out. "Come on, Uncle. Get a grip. You really think he came to you with pure intentions? You think it was an accident that you got him pregnant? He planned it. All of it. He—"
Adriel's grip tightened, his pheromones lashing like a whip.
"Shut your mouth," he growled, voice low and lethal. "Unless you want me to tear it off your face." The weight of his fury pressed into James's lungs until he couldn't breathe. The smirk was gone now—replaced by the pale, choking realization that Adriel wasn't bluffing.