Arion had spent most of Friday morning preparing for a problem that never appeared.
Theodore had never been surrounded by many unfamiliar people at once, and although the medical team had cleared ordinary family visits, that did not mean Dean or Arion particularly trusted their three-month-old son to appreciate suddenly discovering that his father possessed an unreasonable number of siblings.
They had therefore established rules.
Two visitors at a time.
No one sick.
No heavy pheromonal output around Theo.
No passing him between people every five minutes merely because everyone wanted a turn.
Dean had considered those restrictions sensible.
Arion had written them down.
That was where sensible ended.
"You made a schedule."
Arion looked up from the tablet in his hand.
"Yes."
Dean stood beside Theodore's cot with one eyebrow raised, wearing loose dark trousers and a cream sweater while their son stared contentedly at the mobile rotating above him.
