"Adriel!"
The cheerful call rang out the moment they stepped into the living room, bright and certain, cutting through the mansion's heavy quiet.
Adriel had brought Eren with him only after a fight. The Alpha had wanted him to stay upstairs—rest, avoid the scrutiny—but Eren had refused. If he stayed hidden, James and the others would only sneer about how the Omega was a burden, clinging to Adriel's protection. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
Now, standing in the doorway, he wished he had.
The man who rose from the couch was golden. Blonde hair, perfectly styled; an immaculate suit that spoke of wealth and confidence; and an Omega scent that unfurled into the air like silk—sweet, elegant, commanding in its own quiet way. The moment he smiled, the entire room seemed to lean toward him.
Claude.
He crossed the floor without hesitation, eyes locked on Adriel. His pheromones bloomed, subtle but thick, brushing against every instinct in the room. Without so much as acknowledging anyone else, he swept into Adriel's arms, hugging him tightly like they had never been apart.
Eren's breath caught. His own pheromones curled in on themselves, retreating instinctively, smothered under Claude's polished presence. He took a step back, fighting the sting of humiliation that clawed at his chest. He could smell the contrast—Claude's sweetness filling the room, while his own scent barely lingered.
James leaned back against the couch with a smirk, eyes sliding toward Eren, drinking in the tension like it was wine. Their parents sat straighter, silent but expectant, as though the scene unfolding had long been imagined.
"Claude?" Adriel's voice cracked in surprise. He pulled back, searching the Omega's face, his gaze darting to the suitcase at his feet. "What are you doing here?"
"So you do remember me." Claude's tone was light, teasing, but carried weight beneath the sweetness. He looped his arm through Adriel's and rested his head on his shoulder like it belonged there. His pheromones spiked gently, rich and warm, curling around the Alpha in a way that felt practiced.
Eren stood behind, frozen. His heart hammered, but his expression betrayed nothing beyond a flicker of confusion in his eyes. No one spared him a glance. No one registered his presence.
And as Claude shone beside Adriel—graceful, confident, unmistakably Omega—Eren couldn't stop the inevitable comparison.
And the quiet certainty that, here, he would lose.
Even Kairen—the celebrity once linked to Adriel—didn't hold a candle to this man. Claude had the kind of Omega presence that filled the room the moment he stepped into it: sweet, commanding, impossible to ignore. And judging by the stiffness in Adriel's shoulders, his arrival was as unexpected as it was unsettling.
So this was the guest the maid had mentioned.
The air thickened with Claude's pheromones, elegant and deliberate, brushing against every Alpha instinct like a velvet blade. For Eren, standing a few steps behind, it was suffocating. His own scent curled inward, retreating as though to make space.
The room felt colder—or maybe it was just him, suddenly unsure if he even belonged in the picture at all.
"What are you doing here?" Adriel's voice cut through the haze, low and tense, his Alpha command stripping away the sweetness clinging to the air. "Why are you even here?"
He pried Claude's hand off his arm and stepped back, forcing distance—an Alpha refusing to yield, not just physically but emotionally.
Claude's smile didn't falter at first. "I told you—I wanted to surprise you." His tone was light, playful even, though a flicker of something deeper stirred beneath it. "The mansion's changed so much. Honestly, they wouldn't have let me in if I hadn't said I was your fiancé. And that I knew Uncle Bernard." His head tilted, gaze sharp with familiarity. "Are you still mad at me?"
He reached up, fingers moving toward Adriel's cheek in a gesture that once would have drawn the Alpha in. But Adriel caught his wrist before contact, grip firm—gentle enough not to bruise, unyielding enough to make the point clear.
"You don't get to surprise me anymore, Claude." His voice was tight, threaded with restraint. "You don't have a reason to. You ended everything between us. Or have you forgotten?"
The words landed like a slap. Claude's smile faltered, his pheromones flickering unsteadily before he steadied them again, a crack in the polished facade.
Behind Adriel, Eren froze. His heart pounded so loud it hurt, and though his expression stayed carefully neutral, his scent betrayed him—an anxious, fragile note that twisted against the sweetness saturating the room.
Realization dawned sharp and brutal: this was him. The Omega from Adriel's story. The one who left him on Christmas. The one who broke him.
"You're still holding that against me?" Claude's voice dropped softer, tinged with plea, his pheromones turning warmer, coaxing. "Come on, Adriel. Tell me what I can do to make it right."
He reached for him again, but Adriel stepped back, out of reach. The rejection was silent, yet it carried the weight of Alpha finality.
Claude's scent shifted at once—sweetness draining, replaced by something sharp, defensive. His posture stiffened, his voice lost its brightness.
"I was young," he said, his tone edged now. "You were building your empire, and I was still trying to figure out who I was. I had dreams too, Adriel. You can't blame me for not being ready."
"I'm not blaming you," Adriel said. His voice was calm, but there was a distance in it that carried more weight than anger. "You made your choice. I respected that. But did you ever stop to think that maybe I moved on? That maybe I had to?"
Claude's golden eyes searched his face, desperate for something—regret, longing, even recognition. His pheromones trembled, sweet and coaxing, pressing against Adriel like they always had.
"You used to say you'd wait for me," he whispered. "That no matter what, you'd be there. And now you're telling me things changed? When? How?"
Then his gaze shifted.
He saw him.
Eren.
The red hair caught his eye first, but it was the subtle swell of his belly that made Claude's breath hitch. His pupils narrowed, his pheromones faltering in a sudden hitch of realization. He wasn't just looking at another Omega hanging on Adriel's arm.
He was looking at the reason.
The reason Adriel hadn't waited.
The reason Adriel had let go.
The room sank into silence, heavy and absolute. Even James stopped smirking, watching for what would happen next.
Claude's voice, when it finally came, was a ragged whisper.
"He's pregnant."
Eren's hand moved instinctively to his stomach, shielding what was already plain. His scent rippled—uncertain, vulnerable, protective all at once. His eyes met Claude's, and for a moment, neither Omega looked away.
And just like that, the balance shifted.
Claude wasn't the center of the story anymore. He was the ghost of a chapter already closed.
"Who is he?" Claude demanded, his voice taut, his eyes locked on the red-haired Omega standing behind Adriel.
Eren's throat went dry. His heart pounded, and his scent flickered with anxiety. How would Adriel introduce him? They hadn't even begun to live as husband and wife, and now there was no pretending, no hiding. Standing under Claude's polished stare, Eren felt it more than ever: he was out of his depth. Claude radiated poise, confidence, high-society polish. Next to him, Eren felt painfully ordinary.
Adriel stepped back toward him, placing a steadying arm around his shoulders. His Alpha scent surged, warm and protective, curling over Eren like a shield.
"This is Eren," he said, his voice steady and firm. "My wife."
Claude's lips parted, stunned. His gaze raked over Eren—red hair, simple clothes, glasses, the faintly trembling Omega scent clinging to him. Nothing about him matched the elegance Claude had known.
Then Claude laughed.
It burst out sharp, brittle, and breathless—disbelieving at first, but edged with something darker.
Claude's lips parted slightly, stunned. His gaze snapped to Eren, scanning him from head to toe. The red hair was striking, sure—but everything else? Ordinary. Glasses. Simple clothes. No trace of the high-society polish Claude had grown used to seeing at Adriel's side.
Then Claude laughed.
The sound was short and brittle, disbelief cracking in the middle. It wasn't cruel—at first. Just incredulous.
"You're still mad at me," he said, shaking his head. His pheromones curled sharp and restless in the air. "I get it. I probably deserve that. But come on, Adriel. You don't have to go this far just to prove a point. You didn't have to drag some Omega into this mess just to hurt me."
He turned to Eren, his voice softening—but not kindly. "I'm sorry, really. You don't have to play along with this. He's just angry. This isn't real."
Eren's scent flickered, tight and uncertain, instinctively pulling inward. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening, but he said nothing.
Adriel's jaw tightened, though he held his silence.
"I know you, Adriel," Claude pressed, his voice rising, his presence filling the room like smoke. "You wouldn't fall for someone like him. He's not your type. Not even close. If I walked in and saw Claude here, fine—I'd believe it. He's beautiful, successful, he fits your world. But him?" He gestured toward Eren, his gaze narrowing. "Come on. Be serious."
Eren's heart hammered, his Omega instincts recoiling under the assault. He'd always known he didn't fit—had heard the whispers, had felt the stares—but hearing it flung at him so bluntly, so cruelly, stripped him raw. His throat burned as he bit back the sting in his eyes.
Claude scoffed. "Please. At least come up with a more believable lie."
Adriel's voice cut through the tension, low and cold, his Alpha command slicing like a blade through pheromone-thick air.
"You think I'm lying?" His eyes fixed on Claude, unwavering. "That I married him just to get back at you?"
Claude crossed his arms, chin lifted in challenge. His pheromones lashed sharper, defensive. "Yes. That's exactly what I think. Because he's not in your league, Adriel. Maybe a one-night stand, sure. But your wife?"
Eren flinched. The words hit like a slap. Claude hadn't just insulted him—he'd reduced him to nothing more than a distraction, something disposable. His scent faltered, folding in on itself, small and humiliated.
Adriel stepped forward, his expression dark, his Alpha presence rolling out in a wave that pressed down on everyone in the room.
"I'd appreciate it," he said, voice like ice, "if you stopped talking about my wife like that."
Claude froze. For the first time, his polished mask cracked. He looked at Adriel—at the Alpha standing squarely in front of Eren, shielding him, his scent fierce with claim and protection.
He wasn't playing.
He wasn't pretending.
And in that moment, Claude realized the truth.
Eren wasn't a pawn. He wasn't a lie.
He was Adriel's choice. His bond. His wife.
And Claude had just lost him for good.