Arik stood by the window while Liam slept softly in their bed.
Their bed.
The designation had established itself sometime between Liam threatening an attendant to reach the imperial suite, claiming Goliath's unfinished collar as his property, and spending half the morning proving that Arik's newly altered body had not diminished his enthusiasm.
Liam had fallen asleep diagonally across the mattress, wrapped in the cleanest section of the duvet while occupying enough space for a man three times his size. His long brown hair spread over the pillow and across one flushed cheek, his breathing deep and even despite the diagnostic band still secured loosely around his wrist.
The physicians had found no immediate danger.
His gland activity was elevated, his channels were recovering faster than expected, and pregnancy remained possible but entirely unconfirmed.
He had studied the collar for nearly three hours afterward.
No ether, no dismantling, and no standing without assistance.
