Gregoris arrived home with the last of Donin still clinging to him in small, irritating ways.
The cold had settled into the seams of his coat. Ether dust from the southern base had dried in a fine pale trace along one sleeve. His shoulders carried the familiar weight of travel, command, and several days spent around people who were useful but tiring. Under normal circumstances, he would have wanted silence first. A closed door. Rafael. Perhaps a drink. Certainly no one dramatic.
Which was, naturally, why the house was not empty.
He stepped through the front hall of the family residence and immediately caught the distinct scent of another alpha layered against the quiet warmth of home, expensive wood, and the sea-clean diffuser Rafael liked in the west rooms when he was pretending not to be in a mood.
Gregoris paused for half a beat.
Then he saw Frederik.
