"Put me down."
Gregoris did not answer.
He carried Rafael the rest of the way up the stairs without effort, one arm under his knees, the other firm around his back, his expression gone cold in that quiet way Rafael had learned to take seriously. The amusement from the training hall was gone. What remained was the harder, older part of Gregoris, the man who had once frightened rooms into silence long before he ever became a husband.
Rafael frowned at him. "I was making a point."
"You were being foolish."
"That is a matter of interpretation."
"No," Gregoris said. "It isn't."
He carried him into their suite and straight into the bathroom, then set him down on the marble beside the bath. Only when Rafael was steady did Gregoris step back and turn on the water.
Steam began to rise.
Rafael watched him in silence for a moment. "You are overreacting."
Gregoris looked at him then, silver eyes level and unsoftened. "You threatened to leave our bed because you were angry at me."
