For the first time in days, Adriel allowed himself to breathe again.
He cupped Eren's face, his thumb brushing across the Omega's lips. His voice dropped, husky with a need that throbbed through every fiber of him. "Say it again."
Eren's breath hitched, his scent trembling in the air, bittersweet and warm. "I love you. Only you."
Adriel's thumb lingered against his lower lip, his touch shaking with the restraint he was forcing on himself. His eyes darkened, hunger barely masked beneath the tenderness, pheromones thickening, spilling into the small room with possessive weight.
"Say it again," he whispered, rough with longing.
Eren's heart raced, his Omega instincts responding despite the IV at his arm, despite the weakness still clinging to his body. His own scent swelled soft and pliant, wrapping around Adriel's. "I love you. Only you."
A sound escaped him—half groan, half broken laugh—and before Eren could blink, Adriel's mouth was on his. The kiss was deeper this time, full of longing and frustration, as though he was pouring every ounce of jealousy, fear, and devotion into Eren's lips.
Eren clung to his arm, feeling the quiver of tension running through the Alpha's body, knowing he was holding back the full force of his instincts.
When at last Adriel tore himself away, he pressed his forehead to Eren's, his chest rising unevenly. His hands framed the Omega's face, trembling with the effort of restraint while his pheromones stormed around them, desperate to claim, to mark.
"If we weren't in a hospital," he murmured, voice husky and raw, "I would hold you down and never let you go."
Eren's breath caught, his cheeks flushing at the heat simmering beneath those words. The longing in Adriel's eyes left no room for doubt—his desire was real, fierce, and barely contained. His own scent sweetened involuntarily, betraying the answering pull of his instincts.
Still, his lips curved into a sly smile. "If we weren't in a hospital, huh? Sounds like you've been thinking dangerous thoughts, Adriel."
Adriel's growl rumbled low in his chest at the word Adriel, the sound vibrating against Eren's skin. His pheromones spiked, heavy and dark, flooding the small hospital room until it felt almost suffocating. The need to claim, to mark, to bury himself in his Omega until there was no space for doubt, no ghost of another man—every instinct roared through him.
Eren's breath quickened, his own scent shifting, sweetening, answering without conscious thought. His body betrayed him, heat curling low in his belly as his instincts rose to meet Adriel's surge. The bond they didn't yet have ached like a wound between them, and still, his Omega yielded, pressing closer despite the IV tugging at his arm.
Adriel's hands trembled where they held Eren's face. His mouth hovered a breath away, his jaw clenched tight, fighting himself. "Don't tempt me, Eren. Not here. Not when you're still weak. If I lose control…" His voice cracked, half-warning, half-plea.
Eren tilted his head, exposing his throat in a subtle, instinctive gesture that made Adriel's control snap taut. His scent thickened, ripe and vulnerable, laced with trust. "I'm not afraid of you," he whispered, his lips brushing the Alpha's. "I trust you."
The words nearly undid him. Adriel's teeth grazed the delicate skin of Eren's neck before he wrenched himself back, breathing ragged. His entire body trembled with the effort it took to resist the urge to sink his mark deep and permanent into that waiting skin.
He pressed his forehead against Eren's once more, eyes shut tight, forcing his pheromones to steady into something gentler, protective instead of possessive. "When you're stronger… when you're safe… then I'll show you just how dangerous my thoughts really are."
Eren shivered, a flush spreading down his throat, his Omega instincts still humming, still aching for more. But beneath the hunger, warmth pooled in his chest. Even holding himself back, Adriel's restraint was proof of something deeper—that love was guiding his Alpha as fiercely as instinct.
Eren's teasing only deepened the hunger in his eyes, and Adriel let out a low, frustrated groan, shaking his head. "You're going to be the end of me, Eren."
The quiet laugh that slipped from Eren's mouth made the air feel lighter, but it left the room charged with tension, saturated with the unspoken pull between Alpha and Omega. His scent—still faintly sweet, no longer edged with distress—wrapped around Adriel's instincts and steadied him, grounding the storm inside.
Adriel leaned closer, breath uneven. His body screamed to sink his teeth into the curve of Eren's throat, to mark him and erase every doubt. Instead, he pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead, forcing his pheromones to settle into something calm, protective, cocooning.
"Rest," he murmured, his voice husky with restraint. "I'll stay right here."
Eren's smile was small but real as he curled his fingers into Adriel's sleeve, unconsciously anchoring himself to his Alpha. The flicker of his scent—trusting, vulnerable—tightened something deep in Adriel's chest. Slowly, Eren's lashes lowered, his breathing evening out until sleep pulled him under.
Adriel didn't move, didn't let go. His thumb traced slow circles across the back of Eren's hand as he watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. For days, jealousy and pride had poisoned him, driving him to distance, to silence. But now, looking at Eren—fragile, carrying their child—truth seared through him with brutal clarity.
He brushed a stray lock of hair from Eren's forehead, voice dropping to a raw whisper.
"I won't turn my back on you again. Not you. Not our child. Never."
His pheromones spread through the room in a steady, low thrum—warm, possessive, promising. Adriel settled into the chair beside the bed, Eren's hand still locked firmly in his. He stayed awake long into the night, guarding his Omega with every breath, determined never to let pride or fear pull them apart again.