SERAPHINE
Raiden winced beneath my touch, his muscular frame tensing as I pressed a damp cloth to the wound on his temple. Blood had matted the dark strands of his hair, streaking down his face in angry rivulets. He wouldn’t look at me, his gaze fixed on the far wall of the dimly lit room.
“Hold still,” I murmured, my voice barely audible.
He scoffed, though the sound came out weak. “Why bother? He’ll just do it again.”
I froze, my hand hovering over the cloth. His words cut deeper than any blade ever could. He was right, of course. Maddox’s temper had always been unforgiving, but his rage against Raiden was particularly cruel—unrelenting.
I resumed my task, dabbing gently at the cut. “You’ll heal faster if you let me do this.”
Raiden didn’t respond, but his silence gave me space t
