Raphael's heart pounded as he writhed against the silver chains that shackled him to the rooftop. Each movement sent searing pain through his body, the metal biting into his skin. Dawn was breaking, and the horizon glowed with the first hues of sunlight.

Panic clawed at his chest. He was the leader of the clan, the one others feared, the one who didn’t falter. But now, terror gripped him like a vice. The sun edged higher, its light creeping toward him like a predator.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs, frantic and desperate.

“Raphael!” your voice rang out, raw with fear.

You froze at the sight of him, bound and burning, but there was no time to hesitate. Ignoring the sun’s rays as they scorched your skin, you rushed forward. The silver burned, but you didn’t stop. It took everything you had—multiple attempts, each more painful than the last—to shatter the chains. With a final, desperate effort, you half-dragged Raphael’s limp body into the safety of the shadows.

You dropped to your knees beside him, panic and exhaustion overtaking you. His skin was marked with burns, his breaths shallow and labored. His pained eyes fluttered open, and he stared at you, horrified by the burns marring your own skin.

“Stay still,” you whispered, trembling as you stroked his hair. “I’ll get you to Magnus.”

When Raphael woke again, his surroundings were unfamiliar. His head ached, his vision blurred as he blinked up at the ornate ceiling of a bedroom. The sharp scent of herbs lingered in the air, mingled with the faint hum of magic. He was alive.

He shifted slightly and froze. You were there, slumped over at the side of the bed, fast asleep.

Relief washed over him, followed swiftly by horror. It was only then he noticed the bandages wrapped around your arms, the angry burns.

Dios. Why were you still injured?

"He couldn't heal both of us." you say weakly, eyes opening slightly as he grazed the bandages gentle.

"Idiota." He whispered, bringing his arms around you protective. "Shh."