Chapter 149: Chapter 149: Neither

Rafael’s mouth twitched in exhausted amusement. “She doesn’t respond to intimidation.”

Gregoris’s eyes flicked to him, flat. “I’m not intimidating her.”

Rafael raised a brow. “You’re literally doing the Gregoris Frasner walk.”

Gregoris’s jaw tightened, like he didn’t appreciate being observed. “She was fine.”

“And then she wasn’t,” Rafael muttered, shifting carefully under the blankets.

Gregoris paused. “Yes.”

Rafael stared at Natalie’s scrunched face, the tiny fists, and the offended trembling mouth.

“Did you try the nursery?” Rafael asked, already knowing the answer because the air smelled faintly different, like someone had opened doors and moved through corridors.

Gregoris’s mouth tightened. “Both.”

Rafael blinked slowly. “You tried both nurseries?”

“I tried yours first,” Gregoris said, because apparently that detail mattered enough to state.

Rafael’s lips parted. “And?”

Gregoris’s gaze flicked to Natalie, and he looked… faintly betrayed. “She screamed.”

Rafael made a sound that was dangerously close to laughter. “She screamed.”

Gregoris’s eyes narrowed. “Then I tried mine.”

Rafael’s breath hitched. “And?”

Gregoris’s expression didn’t change, but his voice went flatter, like he was reporting a battlefield failure. “She screamed more.”

Rafael stared at him.

Natalie let out another cry, sharp and offended, as if she’d heard them discussing her and decided to emphasize her point.

Rafael’s shoulders shook once. “So,” he whispered, voice trembling with amusement, “she hated both.”

Gregoris’s gaze stayed fixed on Natalie with grim focus. “She hates the rooms.”

Rafael swallowed down laughter, because laughing in front of Gregoris when Gregoris was taking something seriously was a risky sport, but he couldn’t help it.

“Gregoris,” Rafael managed, “she’s a newborn. She doesn’t have interior design opinions.”

Gregoris’s eyes flicked to him, unimpressed. “She does have strong opinions. If I try to put her down, she cries even more.”

Rafael stared at him for a long second, then looked down at Natalie again – at the little red face, the furious mouth, and the fists clenched like she was prepared to fight the concept of independence.

“She’s… clingy,” Rafael said, and it came out too fond to be insulting.

Gregoris didn’t deny it. He only adjusted his hold carefully, the way a man learned quickly when the alternative was screaming.

Natalie’s cries hit a higher pitch for a heartbeat, sharp and offended, and then – when Gregoris brought her closer, tucked her against the warmth at his throat – she cut off mid-sound.

Not gradually. Instantly.

Like she’d found what she was looking for and decided the world could stop being unacceptable.

Rafael blinked, surprised despite himself. “Oh.”

Gregoris went still, as if he didn’t trust it. His hand remained firm at the back of her head, not pressing, just guarding the fragile weight there. His other arm held her tight enough to be secure, loose enough to be gentle.

Natalie made a tiny huff, a final complaint for the record, and then nuzzled, cheek pressing into the hollow of Gregoris’s throat like she belonged there.

Rafael stared at the way Gregoris’s head dipped instinctively, as if shielding her from air itself.

“You…” Rafael started, then stopped because the sentence he wanted to say felt too soft to be said out loud.

Gregoris’s gaze flicked to him, flat, as if daring him to comment.

Rafael lifted a brow anyway. “She likes your… neck.”

Gregoris didn’t blink. “It’s warm.”

Rafael’s mouth twitched. “She’s literally treating you like a living pillow.” He laughed softly. “I think she likes only where we are.”

Gregoris didn’t answer right away.

He stood there, perfectly still, because Natalie had gone quiet, and Gregoris treated quiet like a fragile truce. His breath was measured. His shoulders were locked in a calm composure that made Rafael suspect he’d been trained for torture and this was somehow worse.

Natalie’s cheek stayed pressed to the hollow of his throat. Her tiny hand flexed once against his collarbone and then relaxed again.

Rafael watched, still amused, still soft around the edges, and then something in him tightened with the realization that this wasn’t just clinginess.

It was a choice.

“She…” Rafael began, and another small cry cut him off as Natalie shifted, displeased for no reason that was visible to adult eyes.

Gregoris adjusted by instinct – bringing her closer, tucking her more securely into the warmth of his scent – and Natalie quieted again immediately, satisfied.

Rafael blinked. “You’re… learning.”

Gregoris’s gaze flicked to him, flat. “I adapt.”

“You adapt,” Rafael echoed, as if the concept of Gregoris Frasner adapting to a newborn was the funniest thing the gods had ever written.

Gregoris didn’t dignify that with a response.

He only looked down at Natalie with that same grim, reverent focus he used when something mattered so much it became a threat.

Rafael’s smile softened. “She didn’t want the rooms.”

Gregoris’s jaw flexed, still offended on principle. “No.”

“She wanted…” Rafael hesitated, because saying it out loud made it tender, and Rafael hated tenderness like it was a weakness.

Then he looked at Natalie’s sleeping face and gave up pretending. “She wanted a heartbeat.”

Gregoris went still again, like the sentence had landed somewhere deep.

“Warmth,” Gregoris said, quietly.

“Us,” Rafael corrected, because he was stubborn and because it was true.

Gregoris’s eyes lifted to him for a heartbeat, and the look there was so simple it almost hurt.

“Yes,” he said.

Rafael swallowed, suddenly aware of his own body – still sore, still recovering, still human in a way he wasn’t used to being. He shifted under the blankets, and the movement made the mattress creak softly.

Natalie’s eyes fluttered open at the sound, silver and unfocused.

Her gaze drifted to Gregoris’s throat, to Rafael’s face, to the space between them, like she was checking inventory.

Then she yawned, offended at the concept of being awake, and closed her eyes again.

Rafael let out a quiet laugh. “She checked if we were still here.”

Gregoris’s hand tightened at the back of Natalie’s head, protective. “She will always check.”

Rafael stared at him. “That’s… not ominous at all.”

Gregoris’s expression didn’t change. “It’s survival.”

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