“I don’t know. I just... felt something through the bond. He was outside the door like this when I found him.”
Eldora nodded grimly as she started cleaning his wounds. I stayed by his side, my hand resting lightly on his arm, as though that might anchor him.
The bond hummed faintly. I didn’t know if he could feel it, but I poured all the calm and strength I could muster into it, hoping it might somehow reach him.
Slashes and bruises covered his body, some edged in an unnatural blackness, as if his very essence had been burned along with his flesh. I forced myself to stay calm, pushing down the panic that threatened to consume me.
“Bring me first aid supplies,” Eldora barked at the guards. “Bandages, antiseptics—anything you can find. Now.”
One of the guards hesitated. “Should we call a healer, ma’am?”
“No healers,” Raffaele rasped. His eyes cracked open, dark and clouded with pain, and he attempted to push himself up. He winced and collapsed back against the mattress.
Eldora worked with a quiet efficiency that contrasted with the chaos in my mind. Her calm demeanor steadied me, and I found myself grateful for her presence.
She directed the guards to place the supplies on the bedside table, then dismissed them. “Raffaele, stop being stubborn and let me work.” She nodded in my direction. “Feel free to work on the opposite side of his body.”
I nodded and leaned over Raffaele, pressing a hand to his shoulder to keep him still. “Don’t move. You’re in no shape to argue with me.”
His lips twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. “You’re bossier than usual.”
“Shut up,” I muttered, the words carrying no bite. “Save your strength.” I exhaled deeply as I unrolled a bandage. “This is going to hurt.”
He let out a weak laugh. “Pain and I are old friends.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m about to test that friendship.” I pressed a cloth soaked in antiseptic to one of his wounds.
He groaned and cursed under his breath.
“Sorry,” I murmured, dabbing gently along the edges of the gash.
Eldora glanced at me. “You’re doing fine, Vivian. Keep going.”
I sucked in a breath as I studied another wound. The edges were charred, the skin blackened as though it had been sliced with a blade forged in fire. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Shadow... magic,” he muttered. “It burns... leaves its mark.”
I bit my lip, anger flaring in my chest. Who could have done this to him? Who had the power to bring someone like Raffaele to his knees? My hands moved methodically, cleaning and bandaging each wound. He drifted in and out of consciousness, mumbling incoherently at times.
Eldora pursed her lips, but she didn’t press him for more. Instead, she handed me a fresh bandage, and we worked in silence.
“These will heal in a day or two,” he slurred at one point, his head rolling to the side.
“Sure they will,” I muttered under my breath. He was either delusional or his magic was capable of things I couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
Finally, after what felt like hours, I tied off the last bandage and sat back on my heels, my hands covered in blood. He looked marginally better, though his pallor was still alarming. I stood, intending to clean up and leave him to rest, but he gripped my hand.
Eldora gave me a soft smile as she gathered the soiled cloths, then left the room.
“Don’t go,” Raffaele whispered, his grip on my fingers tightening. The bond thrummed with his need.
I hesitated, torn between the urge to pull away and the ache I felt through the tether. His vulnerability was disarming when I was so used to his cold, calculating side.
Finally, I sat down beside him. “I’ll stay. Just... don’t die on me, okay?”
His lips quirked into a faint smirk. “Not... planning to.”
Minutes passed in silence, his breathing evening out as he fought to stay conscious. His eyelids fluttered open, glassy eyes fixing on me. “It was... my father.”
