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Chapter 83 - The words hit like poison

Claude stood apart, frozen, his fists clenched until his knuckles blanched. Fury burned in his chest like fire. No… not him. It can't be him.

From the sidelines, whispers spread like sparks, heavy with the sharp tang of shifting pheromones in the air:

"Impossible… he's the president's mate?"

"No wonder he wore the Crimson Fate at the anniversary…"

"Spirits help us—what if we lose our jobs for mocking him?"

Among the voices, one cut clear, proud, and certain. Clara straightened her back, her Omega scent steady, unashamed.

"He's not shallow, not like you all thought. He's different. I knew it."

Onstage, oblivious to the storm roiling in Claude's chest, Eren leaned closer to Adriel, his cheeks flushed, his scent trembling between embarrassment and joy. "What are you doing?" he whispered, mortified yet glowing.

Adriel's Alpha presence wrapped around him, protective and unyielding, his storm-heavy scent rolling like a shield. "Why hide now?" he answered softly, though his voice carried with the weight of command. "This was our agreement."

Eren's breath hitched, tears rising, laughter spilling from his lips. He threw his arms around Adriel, surrendering to the truth of it. For him, the crowd's stares, the whispers, the shadows of doubt—all of it fell away. In Adriel's arms, the curse he once believed bound his life was broken. No longer hidden. No longer diminished. With him, he was blessed beyond measure.

Backstage, the roar of applause dulled into a muffled hum, like celebration behind glass. The air was heavy with perfume, sweat, and fading pheromones. Models laughed in relief as assistants unclasped jewels and unpinned hair. But deeper in the narrow passage behind the stage, the air was brittle with silence.

Claude was waiting.

He leaned against the wall, arms folded, his Omega pheromones soured—once sweet, now acrid, bitter. His expression was carved from ice, his lips curling into a smile that cut sharp when Eren appeared, still flushed from Adriel's claim.

"Well," Claudedrawled, his voice low and laced with venom, "that was quite a performance. Did you enjoy it? All those eyes on you? All that applause when Adriel announced you as his mate?"

His mocking tone was steady, but his pheromones betrayed the truth—rage, humiliation, and fear seeping into the air.

Eren froze.

Claude's words dripped with resentment, but Eren could almost understand them—he had been humiliated in front of everyone. One declaration from Adriel had rewritten the story of the night, and Claude had been left stripped bare.

The click of Claude's polished heels rang down the corridor, each sound like a blade on stone. His Omega scent, usually sweet and refined, was soured—sharp, bitter, acrid with envy.

"Just because you won a design competition," Claude sneered, drawing closer, "you think you belong at Adriel's side? Mate of the president? Don't forget what you are. A secretary. A curse they mockingly call 'Red.' And when they learn the truth—when they learn what you really are—you'll drag him down with you."

Eren stiffened, clutching at the folds of his gown. His own scent flickered—frightened, defensive, curling instinctively low in his chest. "Claude … I never had any bad intention. I entered fairly, I won fairly. Why would Adriel's name be ruined—"

The words died in his throat.

Claude had opened his clutch with theatrical precision and unfolded a single sheet of paper.

Eren's blood turned to ice.

The contract. Their marriage contract. The one Adriel had promised to destroy.

His lips parted soundlessly. "How… how do you have that—"

"It doesn't matter how," Claude cut in, his smile twisting cruelly. He held the page aloft like a dagger. "What matters is what it says. You tied Adriel to yourself with this. You forced him to marry you, to take responsibility for your child. How convenient. James's castoff one moment, Adriel's mate the next. Tell me, Eren—" his voice dipped, thick with venom, "—does Bernard know his Omega son-in-law slept with his son and his grandson?"

He leaned close, his pheromones bitter with triumph, poisoning the air. "You parade yourself as a designer, but all I see is filth dressed in silk."

Eren staggered back, his hand flying instinctively to his stomach in a protective reflex. His heart pounded so hard it drowned out the applause beyond the walls.

And then—

"What the hell is this about?"

The corridor seemed to shrink, the air drawn tight. Bernard Ulrick stepped forward, his Alpha presence filling the narrow space like a storm front. His scent—iron, oak, and smoke—swept over them, demanding submission.

His eyes locked on the paper in Claude 's hand. Without asking, he took it, unfolding it slowly. With each line his expression darkened, fury hardening his face into stone.

Eren couldn't breathe. His throat was sand, his knees trembling. His scent broke in panic, low and distressed.

When Bernard finally lifted his gaze to him, it wasn't just fury that looked back. It was judgment. A verdict, before a trial.

The words hit like poison.

"You think you can steal from my family?" Bernard's voice dripped with contempt, each syllable laced with Alpha dominance that pressed like iron on the air. He stepped closer, towering, his presence suffocating. "Not a single centavo will you take from us. And that child—" his tone dropped, colder than ice, "—you will have it aborted."

Eren's breath fractured in his chest. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around his stomach, shielding the fragile life inside. His Omega instincts screamed in panic, in terror. How could he say that? Didn't he care this was his own blood? His body trembled under the oppressive weight of Bernard's pheromones, dominance meant to break him.

And then—

"Dad."

The word cracked the corridor like a thunderclap.

Adriel's voice. Sharp. Steady. Carved from steel.

The heavy scent of Bernard's authority was suddenly drowned out by another—richer, more commanding. Adriel's Alpha pheromones surged through the narrow passage like wildfire, sweeping over Eren in an instant. Protective. Claiming. A shield. Eren's lungs loosened; his body, still trembling, found a fragile breath of air.

Adriel's stride was measured, but his eyes blazed as he closed the distance. He had heard enough.

Bernard turned, relief flashing in his expression, as though expecting his son to stand at his side. "Good. You're here. Then explain this." He shoved the crumpled contract against Adriel's chest with brutal force.

Adriel caught it. Unfolded it. His brow furrowed as his eyes scanned the lines—recognition, then fury, then a final, cold resolve. He looked at Eren, saw the fear burning in those wide eyes, the protective way he clutched his belly. Then Adriel turned back to Bernard.

The paper tore in his hands with a sound that echoed down the corridor—loud, final, irreversible.

"You don't decide who I will marry." Adriel's voice was steady, heavy with Alpha authority, each word rolling like thunder. He stepped forward, sliding his fingers through Eren's trembling hand, grounding him with warmth, with scent, with bond. "I already have a mate. The only mate I will ever have."

Bernard's face contorted, disbelief and fury colliding. "You're mad! Will you throw away everything—your name, your future—for him? For this Omega?" His pheromones spiked again, sharp with rage.

But Adriel did not waver. He stood taller, dominance saturating the air until Bernard's aura faltered against it. "Throw away? I built Ulrick into what it is today. I made it global—something you never achieved. I salvaged the empire you nearly destroyed when you betrayed my mother." His tone cut deeper, sharper. "Don't you dare tell me who I should bond. Don't you dare think you can dictate my life."

Eren's chest heaved, his eyes shimmering with tears. Fear still lingered, but the mate-bond wrapped around him like iron chains of safety. Adriel's scent clung to him, soothing, fierce, unshakable.

"You're blinded," Bernard spat, desperation edging his fury. "Blinded by him. And blindness always leads to ruin."

Adriel's lips curved—not into a smile, but into something colder. "No, Dad. For the first time in your life, look closely. It's not blindness. It's clarity."

He pulled Eren closer, pressing their joined hands firmly against his chest, where his heart beat steady and unyielding. "This Omega is my clarity. My Red. My forever. And nothing—not you, not contracts, not threats—will ever change that."

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