Shadow Unit Scandal: The Commander's Omega-Chapter 131: One more kiss.

Gregoris received the notification that Charles had done his job and dismissed it without opening the details. He would read the report later. For now, the only thing that mattered was the simple fact that the target was gone.

He rose from his desk and stretched, a slow roll of his shoulders that betrayed how little he enjoyed sitting still for too long. He wasn’t built for desks. He tolerated them because the Empire required signatures and because power was often written down before it was enforced.

But he’d had enough for the night.

He left the study and moved through the suite with the same control he moved through everything, soundless even on marble, the lights low, and the air trained to behave. The manor’s ether wards recognized him and shifted in subtle, obedient ripples as he passed, letting him through like he was part of the structure itself.

He went looking for Rafael.

The sitting room was warm with soft lamp light and the faint smell of tea that had been reheated one too many times out of sheer stubbornness.

Rafael was on the couch, legs tucked up, tablet balanced in his lap. His hair was loose, falling in soft brown strands that framed his face, and he was dressed in comfortable house clothes that made him look entirely too harmless for someone who could poison a commander with cookies.

A small bowl of snacks sat beside him - nuts and dried fruit, maybe biscuits broken into pieces - like he’d been foraging.

He was munching with focused seriousness, cheeks moving faintly, as if he’d convinced himself that if he ate quietly enough, the universe wouldn’t notice he was awake.

Gregoris stopped in the doorway and watched him for a second.

The contrast always did this to him. The new duke, who could end people with a sentence, was sitting there like a restless little creature hoarding comfort.

Rafael’s eyes flicked up instantly, because he always felt Gregoris before he saw him. The bond pulled his attention like a thread.

"Done?" Rafael asked, his voice casual, but his eyes were too sharp.

"Yes," Gregoris said, and that was all he offered.

Rafael’s shoulders eased in a way that would’ve been invisible to anyone else. He took another bite, as if to prove he hadn’t been waiting. As if the snacks were just a coincidence.

Gregoris crossed the room without hurrying, coat still on, and sat down beside him.

Rafael didn’t move away.

He shifted closer instead, because he always did. Like his body had its own opinion about distance, and it never asked permission.

Gregoris slid an arm around him, pulled him in, and lowered his mouth to Rafael’s hair for a brief kiss.

Rafael hummed softly, still chewing, and leaned into Gregoris’s chest with that familiar stubborn comfort, tablet still open in his lap like he refused to surrender productivity even while being held.

Gregoris glanced at the screen. "What are you reading?"

"Reports," Rafael said, mouth full.

Gregoris waited.

Rafael swallowed, then added, almost reluctantly, "And an article about the new ether tariffs. And," he hesitated, eyes narrowing like he was about to admit a crime, "a thread about whether House Crystal’s whale display violated energy rationing laws."

Gregoris paused.

Then, very slowly, his mouth curved.

Rafael looked up at him, suspicious. "Don’t."

Gregoris kissed his temple, amusement quiet and warm. "You were angry about the whale."

"It was wasteful," Rafael said immediately, righteous. "Obscene."

Gregoris hummed. "And now you’re researching it."

Rafael lifted his chin. "I like facts."

Gregoris’s hand slid over Rafael’s waist, gentle and possessive. "You look like a squirrel."

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. "I do not."

Gregoris’s gaze dropped to the bowl of snacks. "You’re hoarding."

"I am eating," Rafael corrected.

Gregoris reached for one of the nuts - only for the ’not-hoarding omega’ to dodge his hand with offended speed, pulling the bowl closer like Gregoris had just attempted theft.

Gregoris paused.

Then he looked down at Rafael with quiet fascination, like he’d just discovered a new species.

"You moved faster for the nut than you move for your own pillow," he observed.

Rafael’s mouth tightened. "That’s not true."

Gregoris’s fingers slid to Rafael’s side and pressed lightly in silent warning.

Rafael flinched, then tried to pretend he hadn’t. His shoulders went rigid with the stubbornness of a man who refused to be tickled into confession.

Gregoris’s eyes warmed. "Give it."

"No."

Gregoris blinked. "No?"

Rafael stared at him like he was incredibly unreasonable. "You have your own snacks."

"I do," Gregoris agreed. "In the kitchen. Where normal people keep them. Not in your lap like contraband."

Rafael’s lips pressed together. He grabbed another nut and ate it with exaggerated calm, as if chewing could win arguments.

Gregoris watched him chew.

Then Gregoris reached again, intentionally slow. He didn’t care about the nuts, he just wanted to have fun with his mate.

Rafael’s hand moved instantly, intercepting his wrist, eyes flashing. "Stop."

Gregoris let Rafael hold his wrist. He didn’t pull away. He waited.

Rafael glared at him with the seriousness of a man defending a fortress.

Gregoris’s voice lowered, amused. "Tell me you’re not hoarding."

"I’m not hoarding," Rafael said promptly.

Gregoris glanced at the bowl. Then at Rafael. Then at the way Rafael’s fingers had curled around the edge, possessive as sin.

"Rafael."

Rafael held his gaze, jaw tight.

Gregoris leaned in, and his mouth brushed the side of Rafael’s temple. A kiss meant to distract.

Rafael tried to pull back, but Gregoris’s arm around his waist gently tightened.

Gregoris kissed him again, slowly, and the omega melted into it despite himself. When they parted, Rafael’s eyes were narrowed in a way that said he hated losing.

"You can keep your snacks, love," Gregoris said, voice low. "I just want to tease you."

Rafael stared at him for a beat, as if weighing whether to be offended or indulgent.

Then he lifted his chin with the solemnity of someone about to deliver a royal decree.

"I’m pregnant," Rafael said.

Gregoris’s mouth twitched. "Yes."

"And," Rafael continued, like Gregoris had interrupted a very important legal argument, "that means I am entitled to compensation."

Gregoris arched a brow. "Compensation."

"Yes." Rafael nudged the bowl closer to his chest, then extended his free hand toward Gregoris as if presenting a list. "Kisses. Snacks. Attention. In that order."

Gregoris’s eyes warmed, amusement soft and obvious now. "You already have two of those."

Rafael’s stare turned sharper. "Not enough."

Gregoris let out a quiet laugh. It startled something in Rafael’s expression, making him look pleased despite himself.

"You’re demanding," Gregoris murmured.

"I’m building a child," Rafael shot back immediately, and the indignation in his voice was so sincere it was almost impressive. "You are just existing."

Gregoris laughed again, the sound low and helpless. "Is that how you see it?"

"Yes," Rafael said, dead serious. "I am suffering."

Gregoris’s gaze flicked to the bowl, then to Rafael’s face, then to the way Rafael was trying very hard to look wronged while sitting in soft lamplight with a tablet and snacks like a spoiled noble cat.

"You are suffering," Gregoris repeated, like he was testing the word.

Rafael nodded once. "Terribly."

Gregoris leaned in and kissed him again, because Rafael was unbearable, and he loved him for it. A slow kiss that wasn’t about teasing anymore, just about the warmth of him, the way Rafael always softened the moment Gregoris touched him.

Rafael made a pleased sound into Gregoris’s mouth, immediately vindicated.

When Gregoris pulled back, Rafael followed for another second, greedy.

Then Rafael blinked at him, eyes bright with triumph. "See? Compensation."

Gregoris’s thumb brushed Rafael’s cheek, amused. "You’re going to start using that word for everything."

"I should," Rafael said, as if he’d just discovered a brilliant political strategy. "I could get so much done."

Gregoris’s eyes narrowed slightly, entertained. "What do you want now? Be honest."

Rafael considered, very seriously, that this was a negotiation between nations.

Then he said, "One more kiss."

Gregoris obliged without hesitation.