Eren lowered his gaze, unable to look at him. "I know it's foolish. You married me out of duty. Because of the baby. Because of the family name. Because I'm—" his voice faltered, bitter, "—because I'm the branded, cursed Omega no one really wanted. And you… you probably won't ever feel the same. But the more you—"
His rambling cut off as Adriel suddenly leaned in, cupping his face in both hands. His touch was firm, grounding, his thumb brushing gently over the sharp edge of Eren's cheekbone.
"Why would it be impossible for me to fall for you?" Adriel asked, his voice low but steady. His scent pushed deeper, protective and sure, wrapping around Eren like a vow.
Eren blinked up at him, startled. "Because… all of this isn't real. It was just a contract. A mistake. And I'm—"
"You're rambling," Adriel said with a quiet chuckle, though his eyes never wavered from Eren's. "And none of that matters. Not the curse. Not the contract. Not the past."
He leaned closer until their foreheads almost touched, his words brushing warmly across Eren's lips. "What matters is this—you and me, right now. You're mine. My Omega. My family. And I'm not going anywhere."
Eren's breath caught, his chest tightening. His instincts trembled at the weight of those words, at the Alpha's steady claim.
For the first time, he almost let himself believe it.
Adriel leaned closer, his gaze locking on Eren's as though he could see straight through him. "Indulge in me, Eren. Let yourself want me. Because if I'm being honest…" his voice dropped, rough with restraint, "I want you to need me. I want to be the Alpha you can't imagine living without."
Eren's breath stuttered, his chest rising sharply. His scent spiked—sweet, nervous, vulnerable—filling the space between them. Adriel inhaled, his control fraying.
"You're so slow, Red," he teased, though his smile was tender. "You asked if you could stay by my side. The answer's yes. Always."
He caught Eren's trembling hand and placed it firmly against his chest, over the steady, powerful thrum of his heartbeat. "Feel that?" he murmured.
Eren nodded, wide-eyed, his palm burning against the heat of Adriel's skin.
"This hasn't happened in years," Adriel confessed, voice thick with something raw. "I thought I'd forgotten what it was like to want—not just to protect, not just to fulfill duty, but to ache for someone. Then you… you reminded me." His throat worked as he forced the words out. "That night—it wasn't a mistake. It was the beginning of something I didn't even know I'd been starving for."
He faltered, his jaw tightening. "I know I'll never be James."
But Eren squeezed his hand, fierce and certain. "I don't want James," he said, eyes blazing. "You're not him. You're better. You made me believe I'm more than a cursed Omega—that I don't have to live branded, ashamed, or afraid of what I carry. You gave me hope, Adriel. You made me believe I could change my story."
Adriel's chest ached at his words. His lips curved into a slow, reverent smile. "Then give me your answer."
Eren blinked, breathless. "I… I haven't heard the question."
Adriel leaned forward until their foreheads touched, his voice breaking as he whispered, "Let's end this contract. Let's stop pretending this is duty. Be mine. Not as a bargain. Not as an obligation. Be my mate."
Eren's eyes shimmered, his scent trembling with fear and longing. "If you're okay with me—even if I'm branded, even if I'm a curse—"
"If you're a curse," Adriel growled softly, cupping his face as though he'd shatter without his touch, "then mark me with it. I'll wear it proudly. Because you're the most unforgettable, beautiful curse that's ever happened to me."
Adriel tilted his head, his lips just a breath away from Eren's. "I want to kiss you."
Eren's lips curved into a faint, nervous smile. "Then don't wait. I'm not going to stop you."
That was all the permission he needed.
Adriel's gaze lingered on his mouth for a heartbeat longer, their breaths mingling in the narrow space between them. The world beyond that moment ceased to exist—no past, no future. Only now. Only him.
Then he kissed him.
It wasn't tentative. It wasn't hesitant.
It was the kind of kiss that stripped them bare.
Adriel's lips claimed his with a hunger that had been building in silence, in every glance that lingered too long, in every word left unspoken. At first, it was soft—reverent, almost fragile, like a prayer whispered against Eren's mouth. But it deepened quickly, as though Adriel had been holding back for too long and could no longer pretend.
Eren melted into him, his fingers clutching at the fabric of Adriel's shirt, desperate to anchor himself. His chest thundered, but it was nothing compared to the wildfire spreading through him, lit by the press of Adriel's mouth.
Adriel's hand slid to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, guiding the kiss deeper. His scent spiked—rich, consuming, undeniably Alpha—filling Eren's lungs until it was impossible to breathe anything but him. Every brush of lips, every shift of breath, spoke of longing and promises not yet spoken but already felt.
It wasn't just a kiss.
It was a confession.
A surrender.
A beginning.
They were drowning in it—drowning in each other.
And then—
A sudden knock shattered the stillness, loud and jarring against the door.
Eren startled, jerking slightly, but Adriel only froze, his jaw tightening as a sharp growl rumbled low in his throat. He pulled back just enough to break the kiss, though his forehead remained pressed firmly against Eren's. His breath came hard and uneven, his lips still tingling with the taste of him.
For a moment, his eyes stayed closed, unwilling to face the intrusion. Then he opened them, and the frustration there was clear—dark, heavy, unguarded.
"Of all the times…" he muttered, voice rough, disappointment bleeding through every word. His hand lingered at the back of Eren's neck, as though refusing to let go completely, even though the moment had been stolen from him.
Eren's lips were still parted, his breath shaky, his own pulse racing. He didn't know what to say.
But in the silence that followed, as the knock came again—impatient, demanding—one thing was certain.
Adriel hadn't wanted to stop. Not even for a second.
And they weren't pretending anymore.