Chris heard them before he saw them.
Not with ears, though the soft click of the corridor door carried, and the returning footsteps had that careful lightness Trevor used when he wanted to sound harmless, but through the bond first: the subtle tightening under Chris's ribs that always came when Dax was… managing himself.
Dax stepped back into the parlor with a smile already in place.
It was an excellent smile. Warm, easy, husband-shaped, one that would have melted any omega in the immediate radius.
It just didn't reach the part of him Chris lived in.
Trevor followed with the same casual expression he wore when he was lying to people who had money and influence and absolutely no right to the truth.
And then Chris's gaze dropped, automatically, because his body noticed injuries the way it noticed hunger or cold. Instinct before thought.
