"Adriel—hey!" Eren's protest was shaky, his voice caught between defiance and embarrassment. But even as he struggled, his scent spiked with relief, betraying the truth his mouth wouldn't admit.
"Shh." Adriel's voice dropped low, soothing, threaded with command. His scent pressed close, wrapping Eren in steady warmth. "Stay still. I've got you."
The world narrowed. The anger, the warehouse, the sharp stench of his parents' disapproval—all of it fell away. All that remained was this: Adriel's arms, the steady beat of his heart, and the way Eren's body leaned into him despite himself.
"I can walk," Eren whispered, cheeks hot. The words trembled with pride, not strength.
Adriel's mouth curved, soft but certain. "Yeah?" he murmured, eyes glinting. "From where I'm standing, you're one heartbeat away from collapsing again. You don't have to act tough with me, Abi. Not with me."
Eren's chest clenched. His heart hammered so hard it rattled his ribs, his scent curling instinctively around Adriel's, seeking safety, seeking home.
"If you leave now, Eren," his mother said coldly, "you're choosing him over us. Over your family. After everything we've done for you—this is how you repay us? By running off with a man who wants to steal our island?"
Adriel stopped. Slowly, deliberately, he turned to face them, still holding Eren as if nothing could pry him away. His gaze was sharp, his Alpha presence a wall of iron that pressed back against theirs.
When he spoke, his voice was calm, but it carried steel. "He isn't choosing me over family," Adriel said. His arms tightened around Eren's trembling frame. "He's choosing me because you stopped being his family the moment you locked him away."
"I had plans for this island," Adriel said, his voice low but cutting. "Big ones. I wanted to build something better here—for the people, for the future. But after what you did to him? After how you treated my mate?"
His jaw tightened, anger simmering beneath the calm.
"Your mate? You consider him your mate? That cursed Omega—"
"Stop calling him a curse." The words tore from Adriel before he could hold them back. His voice cracked through the room like a whip. "Keep your island. I don't want it anymore. But touch him again, and I won't walk away next time."
The silence that followed was suffocating, thick with unsaid threats and clashing scents.
Eren looked up at him, eyes wide, chest heavy. For the first time in years, he felt safe. Not because someone was fighting for him—he'd seen men fight before—but because Adriel's words left no room for doubt.
The silence stretched, heavy, unbearable—until Eren lifted a trembling hand and set it gently against Adriel's arm. The touch wasn't forceful, but it was enough. His scent, sharp with fear, steadied as it brushed against Adriel's.
Adriel's eyes softened the moment they met his.
"Alright," he said quietly, as if he understood everything Eren wasn't saying. "Let's go."
They didn't wait for his parents to answer. Adriel walked past them in silence, carrying Eren in his arms as if nothing in the world could take him away. The couple could only stare, stunned, as the two disappeared into the dusk—leaving the weight of the past behind.
The helicopter's blades thundered overhead, filling the air with a steady vibration. Inside, the cabin was dim, the world outside reduced to streaks of gold and shadow.
Eren sat pressed against the seat, gaze distant, hands folded tightly in his lap. His scent was muted, laced with unease.
Adriel watched him carefully, his own scent softened, coaxing calm. "You okay?" he asked, voice gentle.
Eren nodded once, but his silence lingered like a weight.
"I'm sorry about what happened," he whispered at last, not meeting Adriel's eyes. "I didn't mean for things to get that bad—"
Adriel reached over, placing a steady hand on his head, fingers sliding lightly through his hair. The intimate gesture made Eren stiffen, his pulse spiking.
"Why are you apologizing?" Adriel's tone was quiet but firm.
Eren swallowed hard. "Because you already have so much to deal with. I didn't want to be another problem. I didn't want my family dragging you into all this. I just… I don't know how to fix any of it."
Adriel leaned closer, his presence wrapping around him like a shield. His pheromones pressed warm and steady, coaxing the tension from Eren's frame.
"Hey." His voice was soft, but unyielding. "You don't owe me an apology. What they did—that's on them, not you. Don't carry their mistakes like they're yours."
He gave him a small smile, warm enough to crack through the walls Eren kept building.
Eren finally looked at him. And in that moment, fear clawed at his chest—quiet but relentless. Adriel was too kind. Too patient. Too good.
What if he got used to this? To him?
What if one day, Adriel wasn't there anymore?
He was falling. Slowly, helplessly. And it terrified him.
Not because it was hard to love Adriel—
…but because it was so easy.
"What are you thinking about now?" Adriel asked, breaking through the fog of Eren's thoughts. His hand reached over, brushing his knuckles gently against Eren's cheek. The touch made him blink and turn, caught off guard.
"You've got that look again," Adriel said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Like you're carrying the weight of the world."
Eren gave a soft laugh, but it didn't reach his eyes. His scent wavered, thin and uncertain.
"Now that I think about it," Adriel continued, his voice shifting lower, steadier, "maybe I should be the one apologizing."
Eren blinked. "For what?" he asked, surprised.
Adriel's gaze held his, guilt flickering in the depths. "For not being there when you needed me. For letting them take you. For not protecting you—and the baby. I should've done more. I should've fought harder. I feel like I let you down."
Eren's breath caught. He hadn't expected that—not from him. His chest tightened, his scent spiking sharp with emotion before he reached out, threading his fingers through Adriel's.
"You didn't let me down," he said quietly. His voice trembled, but his grip was firm. "You came for me. That's all that matters."
For a moment, silence filled the cabin—the hum of the rotors outside, the faint vibration beneath their feet, and the quiet sync of their heartbeats. Something shifted. Not just between them, but inside him.
He wasn't just falling anymore.
He was already his.
Eren swallowed hard, chewing his lip before speaking again. "We don't really know what my parents are thinking. Maybe… maybe the island really does mean everything to them. It's not just about them—it's about the people who live there too. They're trying to protect something bigger than themselves."
Adriel studied him, and his expression softened. No judgment. No argument. Just quiet understanding.
"Yeah," he murmured with a small smile. "I know."
Eren hesitated, his heart thudding as he gathered the courage to ask the question weighing on him. "So… are you still going to buy the island?" His voice was tentative, almost shy. He hated how vulnerable he sounded—but he needed to know. There were other islands. He didn't need this one.
Adriel let out a short laugh, but it held no humor. "After what they did?" He shook his head, bitterness edging his tone. "Honestly, part of me wants to take it just to spite them."
Eren stiffened, his scent flickering uneasy. Adriel caught it immediately and stopped himself, his voice gentling.
"But I won't," he said firmly. "Not anymore. As long as they stay away from you, I'm done. But if they ever try to hurt you again—or our baby—then yeah… that's a different story."
Eren's chest clenched at the way he said it—our baby. The words wrapped around him, warm and protective, but they also twisted something sharp inside. His gaze dropped, guilt heavy in his throat.
"I didn't mean to cause you more trouble," he whispered. "I'll be more careful next time. I just… I don't want anything bad to happen to the baby." His voice faltered. "To your baby. The one you'll be such a good father to. I don't even know if I deserve to be part of that."
Adriel's brows knit together. He reached out and gently tilted Eren's chin, coaxing his gaze upward.
"Why do you say it like that?" he asked softly. "Like the baby's only mine?"
Eren blinked, caught off guard.
"Because… I don't know. It feels like I'm the one who keeps messing things up, and you're the one who keeps fixing them."
Adriel exhaled quietly, brushing his thumb along Eren's cheek.
"You're not a burden. You're not something I have to fix. You and the baby—you're my family now. Whether you believe it or not."
Eren's throat tightened. Family. The word should've warmed him, but instead it twisted inside his chest. Their marriage wasn't born of love—it was ink on paper, a contract he'd agreed to because he had no choice. And Adriel… Adriel was everything he wasn't. Respected. Powerful. Untouchable.
While he? He was branded, cursed, the omega no family wanted near their children, no Alpha wanted at their side. If the world looked at them together, all they'd see was a scandal waiting to happen, a stain on Adriel's name.
Her eyes shimmered, and for a moment, words wouldn't come.
Then, almost hesitant, Adriel asked, "After everything… do I still feel like a stranger to you?"
Eren's lips parted. "A little," he admitted, barely above a whisper. "Not because I want to. I think… I'm just scared of getting used to you."
Adriel tilted his head. "Why?"
Eren gave a small, fragile smile. "Because if I get used to you—and then you leave—I don't know if I'd survive it."
Silence stretched, heavy with all the things they hadn't said. Then Adriel leaned closer, his voice steady, low.
"Then I'll just have to stay. Long enough for you to stop seeing me as a stranger. Long enough for you to know I'm not going anywhere."
Heat flushed across Eren's cheeks, his heartbeat thrumming so loud it nearly drowned out his words.
"Then I'll try too," he whispered. "To be someone worth staying for."
The air between them was thick with something unspoken, fragile yet unbreakable—until a voice cut through it.
"Boss?" Roen stood awkwardly in the doorway, clearing his throat. "Are we heading out?" He glanced between them, clearly unsure how long he'd been intruding.
Adriel flicked his gaze toward him, then back to Eren, his attention lingering.
"Yeah," he said at last, his tone warm. "We're leaving."
Eren nodded, her chest tangled in everything left unsaid. But for the first time in years, he didn't feel alone in it. For the first time, he felt like he belonged.