The door creaked open with force, and Eren's father filled the frame, his voice already sharp with fury.
"You've got some nerve showing up here."
Adriel stood at the threshold, coat still tugged by the night breeze, his presence heavy and commanding. His Alpha pheromones prickled at the edges of his control, threatening to spill into the humid island air. He forced a slow breath through his nose, reigning himself in. The last thing he wanted was to suffocate the house with his dominance—yet his wolf roared inside, demanding he crush the man who dared touch his mate.
"Where is Eren?" His tone was low, controlled, but iron threaded every word.
"Why ask me?" the older man sneered. "You're his husband. Shouldn't you know?"
"This isn't a game," Adriel said, his gaze narrowing, his voice edged with a warning growl. "I'll ask you once more. Where is he?"
The man's lip curled. "And you dare raise your voice in my house? Who do you think you are? Why should I tell you anything? You're the only fool who ever came running after that cursed child. Do you even know what people here say about him?"
Adriel stepped closer before he could stop himself. His pheromones surged, dark and oppressive, filling the narrow space between them. The man stiffened at the weight of it, but Adriel clenched his fists and dragged it back with effort, forcing his aura down. His voice was tight, dangerous.
"I don't care about island gossip. He is mine. And you dragged him here against his will." He leaned in, eyes glinting. "That's kidnapping."
"Kidnapping?" The older man barked a laugh, harsh and bitter. "What we do with our own blood is none of your concern."
"None of your concern?" Adriel's restraint faltered again. His pheromones rolled out in another wave, colder this time, sharp as steel. The older man's pupils constricted, his body tense against the instinctive urge to recoil. "You don't treat him like blood. No parent who loves their child would lock him up like an animal."
The man's face darkened, but he pressed on, spitting venom. "Don't think I don't see you for what you are. You never married him for love. You only touched him because he was carrying your heir. Admit it—if he weren't pregnant, you wouldn't even glance his way."
For a moment, silence burned between them. Adriel's jaw tightened. His pheromones flared, thick with possessive fury, and he didn't bother to suppress them this time. The air itself seemed to vibrate with Alpha command. When he spoke, his voice was quiet but lethal.
"You're wrong." His eyes flashed with fire. "I care for him—pregnant or not. And if you think you can use him, or our child, as your bargaining chip, you've already made your worst mistake."
"And don't you dare tell us how to raise Eren!" the older man snapped, his voice cracking down the hallway like a whip. The air between them thickened, heavy with dominance, almost suffocating.
Adriel exhaled hard, shoving a hand through his already unruly hair. "Fine. Enough dancing around this. I know why you dragged him back here. This isn't about him at all—it's about me, isn't it? Just say it. What do you want? What's it going to take for you to let him go?"
He already knew the answer, but admitting it aloud only sharpened the fury clawing at his chest. This was about the island—about his claim, his plans, and their stubborn refusal to bend. He could read it in the older man's face, in the smug curl of his mouth that made Adriel's fists ache to connect.
"At least you're not pretending to be clueless," Eren's father sneered, slouching back against the doorframe with calculated ease. His grin was pure provocation, as if he had all the time in the world to savor Adriel's frustration.
Adriel crossed his arms, biting back the urge to roll his eyes. "Let me guess. You want me off the island. Out of the picture. No interest, no stake. That about right?"
"Exactly." The man's tone was sharp, final. "This island is everything to the people here. It's where they were born, where they bleed, where they'll die. We don't need some rich outsider sniffing around, waving promises and contracts."
"Oh, please," Adriel cut in, his patience thinning by the second. "I've told you before—no one here loses anything. They'd gain more than you're willing to admit."
"Gain?" the older man barked, his voice rising. "By watching you tear apart what we've built? By selling off our home piece by piece? We don't need your money, and we sure as hell don't need your empty oaths."
Adriel shook his head, a weary sigh leaving him. "You don't trust me. Fine. I don't care if you ever do. But there's one thing I do care about." His voice hardened as his eyes locked onto the man's. "Eren. He deserves better than this. Better than the way you treat him. He was born here too—"
"Eren's different," his father snapped, dismissing the words with a sharp flick of his hand. "He's nothing but bad luck to this island. Everyone knows it. They fear him. Fear the curse he drags behind him like a shadow—"
"A curse?" Adriel's voice cut like steel, disbelieving and edged with fury. His eyes narrowed, sharp as a predator's. "You're his father. How can you spit that filth about your own son? You abandoned him, treated him like nothing, and now you brand him cursed?"
"Don't you dare lecture us!" Eren's father roared, his scent spiking with fury as his face darkened. "You don't get to dictate how we handle our own blood."
Adriel flung his hands out, exasperation roughening his voice. "Fine. Then cut the posturing. Where is he? Just tell me where you're keeping Eren."
"If we decide to return him—" the older man began, but his words were swallowed by a violent crash from deeper in the house. Glass shattered, wood splintered, and the sound thundered through the walls like an explosion.
The argument evaporated in an instant. Adriel's head whipped toward the noise, every muscle locking tight as his pulse spiked. His instincts screamed only one name.
"Eren!" His voice tore from his throat, raw with panic, and he bolted toward the sound without hesitation.
Behind him, Eren's parents froze for the briefest moment—caught between shock and dread—before scrambling after him.