Volgin's illusion had at least had allowed him the mercy of a perfect replication of his lover, pale and unmarred unlike he. As the younger man moved, his commanding officer's gaze had lingered on Raikov's groin, his posterior as he grabbed his robe, but the flickers of his more carnal urges were quickly extinguished. It might have been a bait.

Volgin darkly followed Raikov, but he stopped at the doorway, his gloved hand pressed against it in passing. It was quite solid. Stable. Hn.