**A FEW HOURS AGO**
Adrian's mind raced as he watched the people. Most unknown to him. Laughter boomed from across the room, but to Adrian, it sounded like the clinking of chains.
It was his bachelor's eve yet he didn't even know most of the young men in attendance at their private lounge his father had used for this celebration.
His Adam's apple bulged as he gulped down a wine glass he took from a bartender serving wine to the people.
He wasn't a drunkard and hadn't had one before, but because of the situation he found himself in, he didn't mind.
"Don't embarrass me today Adrian! You've already done enough damage to my reputation since being born. Stay low till the whole wedding ceremony is over" he recalled his father's words to him just this morning and hit by another wave of anger, walked back to the bartender who had passed him and took one more glass. Two, and then he added the third glass.
Gulping each down immediately and returning the glasses back to the serving tray.
His father had arranged this wedding. Everything! From the bride, to the family he had selected her from.
And since he was the powerful Alpha of the Crimson Moon Pack, the most powerful pack in the whole of Ravenshore, he knew better not to disobey him.
Right from childhood, he had learnt what awaited him anytime he did. Growing older, he'd realized that it'd be futile disobeying him anymore. The disfigured index finger on his left palm which he glanced at shortly was enough reminder for him not to.
"Loosen up, Adrian!! It's your bachelor's eve!" A man said to him and he turned beside him to see whom it was.
He felt slightly dizzy but was still able to tell that it was his secretary, Lucas.
The man pitied him, which was why he was trying to lighten up his mood. But Adrian dared not admit it.
He didn't need any of it. His pity or any of it. He was the son of the Alpha, an Alpha heir in waiting. It wouldn't be a matter of time before he would become one himself. So what was the use of his pity to him?
The taste of the third glass lingered bitterly on his tongue, even though the wine was sweet. He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, as if that could force down the rage crawling up his throat like bile.
The music thumped in the background, bass heavy and wild, but it was only making his headache worse. Laughter burst like gunshots from across the room, jarring, cruel in its obliviousness.
They were celebrating his night.
His own bachelor's eve.
And yet, he stood there like a shadow on the wall—silent and cornered.
How many of them here knew him on a personal level aside him being the son of Alpha Darius? None.
He hadn't even seen her. Not even a name. Only that she was "a suitable match"—his father's exact words. A daughter of an Alpha from a respectable lineage. That was all that mattered.
Bloodline, image, and damage control for his reputation being tarnished on the media by netizens for having a secretly gay son.
He could still hear his father's deep voice barking earlier that morning:
"You'll meet her tomorrow. Stop asking questions, Adrian. You're lucky I still have the patience to fix what you've ruined."
What he'd ruined...
He had only existed.
Adrian dragged a hand down his face, his skin hot and clammy under his fingers. The alcohol was starting to settle behind his eyes, buzzing and fogging his focus.
A dull pulse throbbed at his temples. He reached for the railing of the staircase, gripping it tightly, and began to climb—each step heavier than the last. The noise from the party followed him, muffled now, but still persistent. Like a gnat buzzing just outside the ear. Annoying and inescapable for as long as he remained.
He made it to the upper floor, quiet and dim, save for the golden sconces casting soft shadows on the hallway walls. Up here, at least, he could breathe. The scent of cigar smoke and champagne didn't cling to the air like it did downstairs.
He leaned against the wall for a moment, his breathing uneven. His chest tightened, not just from the wine, but from everything.
Years of swallowing himself down, of playing the role that was expected of him. The obedient heir. The straight son. The good Alpha-in-waiting.
A bitter and dry laugh escaped him.
He didn't even like girls. He never had. Not since childhood.
When he first told his father, he was thirteen. And the slap had come so fast, so hard, it spun him to the floor. His jaw had ached for days, but not as much as his heart did. After that, he stopped trying to explain who he was. What was the point?
He blinked rapidly, chest burning from the weight of memories that came . He reached for the doorknob of one of the guest rooms, hoping to lie down. To cry, maybe. Just a little. Where no one would see. Where he didn't have to pretend.
But a soft, rhythmic moan caught his attention.
Adrian froze, brows pulling together. Another moan—this one sharper and breathless. It was coming from just a few doors down the hallway. Muffled, but unmistakable.
He turned his head toward the sound. He hesitated at first.
But then soon followed it.
The carpet silenced his footsteps as he moved slowly toward the door half-ajar at the end of the corridor. The moaning was louder now, joined by the quiet thud of a headboard knocking against the wall in intervals. Whoever was inside didn't care about being heard. Or maybe they didn't think anyone would come up here.
His fingers curled around the doorknob. His instincts told him to leave it, to walk away at first but a strange magnetism, fueled by drunken courage, curiosity, and a gnawing bitterness in his chest pulled him forward.
He opened the door.
And what he saw made his heart punch against his ribs.
Two bodies, tangled and half-dressed, locked together on the bed.
But that wasn't what stunned him. What did, what made the world suddenly lurch beneath him, was who they were.
He'd expected it to be a woman sprawled beneath the man who peppered kisses all over her body.
But he had been taken aback when he saw that the companion had a dick as well.
His first instinct was to step back quietly. To close the door and pretend he hadn't seen anything. But his heart wouldn't let him. His gut wouldn't let him.
He was witnessing something deep and messy. They didn't seem drunk. Nor careless. They were free. Free doing what they wanted. Living without shame. Without the cage Adrian had been trapped in his whole life.
And that hurt more than the lie.
More than the sex.
More than the moaning that now made his ears burn.
It was envy. Of the two strange men he stood transfixed at the door watching.