When they returned to the city, Eren thought Adriel would take him straight to the yacht. Instead, Adriel ushered him into a boutique. Before he knew it, he was being dressed and styled by strangers, his hair combed, a suit pressed to his frame.
Eren sat stiffly in the chair, confusion crawling through his chest. Why? Why this? He wanted to ask, but the weight of Adriel's presence beside him kept the words in his throat.
Then, without explanation, Adriel led him out again — and the car stopped in front of the courthouse.
Eren's heart jolted. As they stepped inside, past clerks and stone walls that smelled faintly of old paper and ink, realization hit him like a stone to the gut. They weren't here for business.
They were here to get married.
His steps faltered. His hands trembled at his sides, but Adriel's grip on his wrist was steady, unyielding. Eren let himself be led forward, numb, his chest tight with disbelief. No family. No vows. Just signatures and strangers.
Two people were already waiting. Adriel's secretary, and another couple.
"Hi." The man greeted him with an easy smile.
Eren returned it faintly, unsure how else to respond.
The woman beside him extended her hand. "Relax. I'm Laylah," she said kindly. "Akira's wife." She nodded toward her husband, then back to Eren.
"Eren," he answered simply, shaking her hand. He could feel his own hesitation, the way his palm was cold despite the heat building in his body. Laylah was poised, confident — everything he wasn't. Without Adriel's suit on his shoulders, he would have looked plain, out of place.
"I like your hair," Laylah said, her eyes soft. "Is it natural?"
Eren stiffened. His shoulders tensed, pheromones flickering with unease. Questions about his hair usually came with mockery, with whispers about curses. He braced himself.
"I mean it," she reassured quickly, noticing the shift in his scent. "It suits you. And you don't have to be nervous around us. Adriel's our friend. He wouldn't be standing here with you if he didn't believe you were worth it."
Eren's throat tightened. For the first time that day, someone's words didn't sting.
Laylah glanced at Adriel with a wry smile. "Honestly, I thought he'd be a bachelor forever. He's been carrying his family's burdens since high school. Always working, always sacrificing. It's good to see him take this step."
Her gaze returned to Eren, gentler now. "But are you going to be okay? His family… they won't make it easy. They've never been easy."
Eren forced a small smile, though his chest was still a knot of nerves and sorrow. "Family never is," he murmured.
Eren agreed quietly with Laylah's words. She was right — Adriel's family didn't seem any warmer than his own. Even the first time he had stepped into their house, he had felt the sharp weight of authority radiating from Adriel's father. If not for the child now growing inside him, this moment would never have come. He would not be standing here, on the edge of marriage to a man he barely knew.
"What are you two talking about?" a smooth voice interrupted.
Akira approached, sliding an arm around Laylah's waist. Up close, his presence was steady, confident, but not overbearing.
"Just getting to know Adriel's spouse," Laylah said with an easy smile.
"Akira," the man introduced, extending his hand. "Adriel's best friend, and his business partner."
"Eren," he answered simply, accepting the handshake. His palm was cool, his grip faintly hesitant.
"You don't have to be tense around us," Akira said warmly. "You can trust us."
"That's what I've been telling him," Laylah teased, giving her husband a small smile. "I bet Adriel dragged him to his house first — no wonder he's stiff as a board."
Before Eren could reply, Adriel returned with his secretary at his side. "Let's start." His voice was calm, but his hand at Eren's waist was firm as he guided him toward the judge.
The ceremony was simple. Papers. Pens. Words spoken in an official tone that barely echoed in the quiet chamber. Yet Eren's chest ached with every sound. His throat burned as he repeated the judge's words. His hand shook slightly when he signed his name.
This wasn't the wedding he had dreamed of. Not with his parents' blessings, not with vows of love. He had once believed James might be the one to fulfill those dreams. That illusion had broken — and now here he was, binding himself to Adriel not out of love, but duty.
Tears blurred his vision. He turned slightly away, wiping at his cheek. "I'm sorry," he whispered, ashamed that he couldn't stop himself.
Adriel's eyes lingered on him, unreadable. His pheromones, steady and contained, pressed faintly against Eren's frayed emotions — not quite comfort, but not rejection either. Akira and Laylah exchanged a glance, quiet but sympathetic.
The ceremony ended without applause. Without family. Without joy.
Later, at dinner, Laylah spoke brightly, her laughter a little too loud, her stories too cheerful. Akira followed her lead, weaving lighthearted anecdotes to chase away the heaviness they had all seen earlier. Eren tried to smile, to nod, but inside he was hollow.
He hadn't wanted to cry. He hadn't wanted to seem weak. But no matter how hard he tried, sorrow sat heavy in his bones.
Adriel stopped in front of a hotel suite and pushed open the door. "My unit is under renovation. You'll stay here for now."
Eren stepped inside, his eyes sweeping over the spacious room. The high ceilings, the soft lighting, the polished wood floors — it was more than twice the size of the tiny place he had been renting.
"I can just go back to my old place," Eren muttered, setting down his bag.
"I disagree." Adriel's tone was firm, final. "That place isn't fit for my child."
Eren snapped his gaze toward him. "Do you even know where I live?" His voice trembled between defiance and disbelief.
Adriel didn't answer. His eyes flicked to the suitcase in the corner, packed neatly with Eren's belongings. The Omega froze, realization sinking in. "You went to my place?"
Adriel gave a small shrug. "You call that a house?"
The blunt dismissal stung more than Eren wanted to admit. He opened his mouth to argue, but Adriel was already heading for the door.
"Wait—are you leaving?" Eren hurried after him, his chest tight.
Adriel stopped short and turned, so quickly that Eren almost collided into him. For a moment, caught in the Alpha's sharp gaze, Eren felt his breath snag in his throat.
"I have work," Adriel said. His voice was steady, but his eyes lingered on Eren a beat too long, like he was holding something back. "I told the chef already. Order anything you want. They'll make it for you."
He started to turn again, then hesitated. His jaw tightened as if he wanted to say more.
"...What is it?" Eren asked softly.
"Never mind." Adriel's voice dropped, rougher now. "Don't be late for work tomorrow. Someone will pick you up." With that, he left.
The room was silent once more. Eren stood in the middle of the suite, feeling smaller with every breath. This was his first night as someone's husband, and yet he was alone in a stranger's space.
He pressed a hand against his stomach. "I suppose this is better… At least you won't be a fatherless child." His whisper caught in his throat.
He sat on the edge of the massive bed, his shoulders sagging. The silence pressed in until a knock came at the door.
When he opened it, the hotel manager stood there with a chef in tow. "President Adriel instructed us to make sure you're comfortable. Please tell us what you'd like to eat."
Eren blinked at their courtesy, unused to such treatment. "Thank you… but I'm not hungry. I'd rather rest."
The manager inclined her head politely. "Very well. Call us if you need anything. The president's orders were clear — whatever you want, it's yours."
Eren forced a smile. "I will."
When they left, the silence returned. He lay down on the bed, curling slightly to one side. The space felt too wide, too empty. He thought of Adriel's unfinished words, of the look in his eyes just before leaving.
Still, exhaustion pulled him under. His last thought before sleep was that, once again, he was starting a new life in someone else's world — alone.