The vibration of the helicopter had been a steady, hypnotic hum against Ren’s skull, a far cry from the crashing waves and rustling palms of the island.

Between the physical exhaustion of the night and the heavy breeze from the helicopter, Ren hadn’t even realized his eyelids were dropping.

He had fallen into a deep, dreamless pit of sleep, his body finally surrendering to the trauma of the last four days.

As the helicopter tilted for its final approach toward the Vane private hangar, the change in altitude caused a soft pressure in the cabin. Ren felt a gentle, persistent shaking on his shoulder and a low vibration against his ear.

"Ren. Wake up, wifey. We’re here."

Ren’s eyes fluttered open, blinking rapidly against the harsh, artificial light of the cabin. His vision was blurry, and for a second, he didn’t know where he was.

He soon came to know he was resting his head, but on what?

Then, with a jolt of horror, he realized that he had spent the last hour of the flight tucked firmly into the crook of Cilian’s shoulder, his head resting against the Alpha’s chest as if they were a contented couple returning from a trip.

He jerked away, his neck stiff and his head spinning.

"Don’t touch me," Ren croaked, his voice thick with sleep.

Cilian laughed.

"How cute. You rested your head on my shoulder on your own." Cilian defended, but Ren would never admit it.

He looked out the window, and his heart sank.

They were back at the Vane Estate, the far edge where the hangar was located. The manor was still quite a distance from there, despite being on the same land. But they didn’t need to worry about walking because there was a fleet of black SUVs waiting for them on the tarmac, their tinted windows reflecting the sleek lines of the Vane hangar.

The sight of civilization—Cilian’s civilization—hit Ren like a physical blow.

He wanted to get out of the island so badly, but getting back here... to this sick place, only made his stomach churn.

"We’re here so fast?" He mumbled under his breath. Though it wasn’t a question directly to anyone, Cilian decided to put it on himself to answer.

"You were out cold for an hour, Ren," Cilian remarked, his voice smooth and entirely too satisfied. "So, of course, we arrived without you realizing it."

He leaned back, adjusting his silk robe with a leisurely grace, his gold-brown eyes tracking every bit of unease on Ren’s face.

"The island air clearly wore you out. Or perhaps it was the... activities... of the night before." He grinned.

Ren didn’t answer. He gripped the armrest, his knuckles white.

Behind them, he heard the soft rustle of Harris and Kaelo shifting in their seats. Kaelo was pressed against the window, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and wonder at what was unfolding before him.

The helicopter doors slid open with a soft hiss.

"Now," Cilian said, his tone shifting from playful to authoritative as he stood up. "The medical team is waiting. Let’s get you checked, Ren."

Ren’s survival instinct flared. The sleep had given him just enough energy to remember his plan. The moment his feet hit the pavement, he wasn’t going to be ’checked’, he was going to run.

"I’m not going to your doctors, Cilian," Ren said, his voice gaining strength even as his legs felt like jelly. "I’m going to a public clinic. I’m going to find out the truth on my own terms."

Cilian stepped out onto the metal stairs, then turned back, offering a hand that looked less like an invitation and more like a shackle.

"You’re home now, Ren," Cilian purred, the wind from the slowing rotors whipping his hair. "And in this home, there is no such thing as ’your’ terms. Only mine."

Ren ignored the hand and stepped down himself, his boots hitting the hard, unforgiving ground.

He looked at the line of SUVs and the men in lab coats standing ready.

The ’Monster’ was no longer just a man in an island kimono; he was the head of an empire, and the cage doors were swinging shut.

Ren’s mind was racing through every exit strategy he had rehearsed before, but it all seemed futile given how many men were stationed.

He could only talk his way out of this.

"Come on now, Ren. It’s time to go," Cilian said.

"I said no," Ren repeated, his voice brittle. "I’m going to a clinic of my choosing. I’m not—"

He stopped mid-sentence. The air around them suddenly dropped.

His eyes fell on Cilian and then on the darkness that flooded his gold-brown eyes. It was a look that Ren knew all too well.

It was the look of a man who was about to remind his property exactly where the power lay. He wouldn’t hurt Ren, but there are other things he can do that will give him a much better result.

Cilian did not try to convince Ren any further with words. His gaze drifted slowly, almost lazily, away from Ren and landed on Harris, who was still standing by the chopper’s steps, his hand protectively clutching Kaelo’s shoulder.

Ren flinched. The realization hit him like a blow to the chest. He just remembered that his defiance was always grounds for someone else to get hurt.

Cilian’s silence was the loudest threat he had ever made.

He looked at Harris, and then at Kaelo, his thoughts bleeding out through that cunning smile on his lips.

Ren saw Cilian’s hand twitch at his side, his gaze sweeping towards the nearest guard. He wasn’t looking at the guard; he was looking at the gun, probably hidden in the guard’s back pocket.

This made a dreadful shiver rush down Ren’s spine.

That’s right. This man was cruel, and he would do absolutely anything to get what he wanted, even if it meant hurting someone who had nothing to do with Ren’s decisions.

Now Ren had to choose.

One word of further protest, and Cilian would dismantle Harris’s life right there on the tarmac. He could have Kaelo ’processed’ as an illegal immigrant and sent somewhere where Harris would never find him.

Worse, he could put him on the slave market. It was evil, but Cilian was very capable of doing that.

Ren had to either keep quiet and go with them or destroy Harris and Kaelo’s lives completely.

The burden was too much. He couldn’t... He just couldn’t let that happen to them.

"C-Cilian," Ren whispered, his heart hammering against his ribs in a panicked, uneven rhythm. "Wait."

Cilian’s eyes flickered back to Ren, the darkness still swirling in them. "Yes, wifey?"

That sugarcoated tone was even more dangerous.

Ren swallowed the bile in his throat, his hands curling into trembling fists at his sides.

He looked at the medical team, then at the black SUV. He couldn’t let Harris and Kaelo pay for his pride. Not after they had finally found a sliver of happiness in that wreckage.

"I’ll... I’ll go," Ren said, his voice barely audible. "I’ll go to the manor and have the check up there. Just... Just leave them alone."

The shadow in Cilian’s eyes retracted instantly, replaced by a terrifying, smug warmth. He stepped forward, his hand cupping Ren’s cheek with a tenderness that made Ren’s skin crawl.

"Such a good, selfless heart," Cilian purred. "You’re always so worried about others, Ren. It’s one of your most charming and most exploitable traits."

Cilian signaled to the guards, and the heavy tension on the tarmac dissipated. Harris let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for a lifetime, his shoulders sagging with relief, though he wouldn’t meet Ren’s eyes.

He, too, knew Cilian Vane’s cruelty, so he couldn’t pretend like he didn’t know what was about to happen if Ren stayed silent.

But he couldn’t even beg Ren openly because that would provoke Cilian even more. He just trusted Ren’s good heart.

’Maybe I should resign from flying members of the underworld around,’ Harris thought, his heart frantically hammering.

Kaelo, who didn’t know what was about to happen, tapped Harris’ chest, peering at the two in front.

"Are they arguing as soon as they get back?" He asked, and Harris looked down at him.

"It seems so. But let’s leave them to their business. I’ll take you to my house," Harris said, and Kaelo’s eyes lit up.

"Is it as huge as the palace over there?" he asked, his voice dripping with excitement as he pointed at the manor in the distance.

"Ah, as you said, this is a palace. So how could I have one?" Harris asked, nervously scratching the back of his head. "But it’s not small either. Come, I’ll take you there."

Ren watched them as they smiled happily while they used the opportunity to slip away, and despite his trembling fists at his side, he felt he had done the right thing.

Yes, this was the right choice.

Ren allowed himself to be led toward the lead SUV. He climbed into the back, the leather cool and squeaking. As Cilian climbed in beside him and the door shut with a heavy, final thud, Ren stared out the tinted window.

Though he had agreed to go, he wasn’t defeated yet. He would go to the manor, he would play the role, but he wouldn’t let them touch him. He would play hard to get just when he was sure Kaelo and Harris were not the nearest punching bags.

Ren watched the lab coats through the glass, his mind already cataloging the contents of a standard medical bag. If he could find a way to escape before the needle hit his vein, before they could confirm a pregnancy, he might still have a chance to get rid of it.

Cilian reached out, his hand settling firmly over Ren’s stomach, his thumb tracing a slow circle.

The touch made Ren’s skin crawl, but he did not push Cilian’s hand away yet.

"Don’t look so miserable, Ren," Cilian murmured as the vehicle began to move. "Think of the manor as our new island. Only this time, the walls are much harder to climb."

Ren didn’t respond. He simply closed his eyes, his mind trying to look for the best way to make sure they didn’t get to run the tests on him.