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" Gods , who did you piss off to get stuck with this dump?"

Stella glared mutinously at Raphael's back as he strode straight through her small living room to her bedroom. The beaded entry clacked together as he pushed aside the makeshift door and stuck his head inside. A furious blush molted her cheeks as she let the front door close behind her. He charged right in despite her protests.

Her fingers clenched around her towel like a vice. "This has been the resident banshee's quarters since—"

"Medieval times? And what's this Gods' awful furniture?" A horn almost caught in the beaded curtain as Raphael's head swiveled in her direction. An incredulous sneer slowly built its way onto his features.

"What do you care?" Stella snapped.

Raphael's disgusted disbelief washed from his face as he locked eyes with Stella. Then the smug bastard started to smirk. "I don't."

"You can leave now," Stella stated with barely suppressed ire and marched to her bedroom. "You know where the door is." As she brushed past him, their arms knocked slightly. The brief encounter brought a hiss of pain to Stella's lips, and she came to a halt.

"Here, allow me—"

"No, thank you."

Ignoring the added discomfort that came from gritting her teeth, she entered her bedroom and went straight to her full-length mirror. She twisted to catch sight of her shoulder injury. At once the blood drained from her face.

"You can't treat that properly on your own, you know?" Stella met Raphael's eyes in the mirror's reflection. All traces of emotion had left his face, save for his eyes which shone with arrogance and something darker. "Don't be stupid." Stella's brow furrowed. "You're not bothered that someone just tried to have you killed or that you almost died, but a demon helping you has your feathers ruffled?"

Raphael frowned back at her, and she got the distinct impression he was angry at her. He cleared his throat and smoothed his expression.

"Bathroom that way then?"

"Huh?"

His gaze darted to the open door at the back of her room opposite them. When Stella didn't respond, he set off to find out for himself. "Coming? Or is one of your new banshee powers the ability to grow an extra arm?"

For a few stilted seconds, Stella remained frozen. This can't actually be happening . And yet, she could hear the creak of her vanity drawers being swung open, and possessions being riffled through.

"You wax?" Raphael called. Stella gasped and took two steps toward the bathroom before almost skidding to a stop. "How delightful ."

Stella didn't know whether to be mortified or angry. She succumbed to both and took two more halting steps toward the bathroom.

Raphael stuck his head back out. "What are you waiting for? The sooner I have you patched up, the sooner I can leave this hovel."

Damn him. "I need to get dressed."

Raphael lifted an eyebrow dubiously before he sank back into the bathroom. With speed like a vampyré, she slipped on a pair of shorts and a cropped camisole. Stella adjusted the flimsy top's strap to let it hang down her arm and give Raphael space to work.

"You could run a pharmacy with all of this." Raphael didn't bother to turn and face her when she shuffled inside the bathroom. He was too busy rummaging through her medical supplies, which were well-stocked with both magical and rudimentary products. "Make a decent profit too. Does your little witch friend keep you stocked?"

River did, along with plenty of others, but Stella didn't see any reason to share. "Finished snooping?"

Raphael bristled and straightened to face her. "If I was snooping, you wouldn't know."

Stella rolled her eyes and gave him her back. "The Amira's tonic and phial of Diver should help the most for now. The light blue and the sparkly navy bottle," Stella instructed.

There was a stillness behind her. No sound of clothes moving as he reached for the specified bottles, or tinker of glass as medicinal potions were removed. Instead, the squeak of a handle and rushing water filled the room. Stella's gaze flicked behind her to the scene.

"First, we clean with warm water and soap."

"That's really not necessary with these potions."

Their eyes met in the mirror once more; pale blue sinking into deep brown. Finger by finger, Raphael tugged off his gloves before testing the steaming water. His mouth tugged down, and he broke their eye contact to adjust the water's temperature. Stella's throat bobbed as she dragged her gaze forward.

"Indulge me."

She gave the barest of nods. A moment later her ears prickled from the sound of the cloth wetting, then the awkward sputtered heave of her pump soap dispenser that needed refilling. Raphael heaved a sigh along with it and muttered some indistinguishable words.

It all felt very surreal to Stella. Having Raphael escort her home. Having Raphael inside her home.

Having Raphael take care of her.

Indulge me.

Stella closed her eyes and let out a long, slow breath. She didn't need to poke and prod at every corner of their current situation or read into things that weren't there. Her eyes drifted open languidly, as the sound of Raphael's movements interrupted the rush of water once more.

A tingle ran across the back of Stella's neck.

It was all a very simple production when she took a step back from it. Raphael was being thorough, methodical even. It shouldn't mean anything, and yet—

The smallest gasp escaped Stella as the warm cloth touched her abused skin. Raphael muttered an apology and stilled his ministrations just shy of a second before wiping the afflicted area with care. Stella tried to keep her body relaxed under his attention, but it was difficult. Every time she tensed or flinched a miniature shockwave of pain radiated from the wound.

Stella wasn't surprised; it was quite vicious looking. A patch of scorched and puckered skin emphasized by branching fractal-like blisters. She hoped it wouldn't scar.

Glancing back after the cloth's retreat, Stella watched as Raphael rinsed it. The water ran pink and was spotted with black matter. She swallowed and looked away. Bottles clinked and tinkered behind her as Raphael retrieved what she requested—or so she assumed—but their application wasn't what met her skin next. A different cloth patted her shoulder blade dry.

Her pulse responded to his careful treatment, rising steadily despite Stella's best attempts to stifle it.

I know better , she chanted in her head. He was mean and cruel, not to mention manipulative, and there was no chance in hell she'd ever trust him. Yet for some unspeakable reason, his gentle ministrations were throwing her off her game.

A beat later, Stella begrudgingly admitted to herself it wouldn't be a problem if she had more game to begin with. Then, at least, she wouldn't be so susceptible to a person's charm or kind smile.

"Which potion goes first?"

Stella blinked, shaken out of her musings by Raphael's smooth voice. She peered over her shoulder at him. "Amira's tonic; the light blue. It will numb and sterilize the area. The phial of Diver will expunge any magical residue." Stella's regard returned forward. "I'll have River or someone else clean and redo the bandage tomorrow evening. They'll put on any other medicine it might need."

"What? No supernatural healing for the resident banshee?"

"Not particularly," Stella remarked dryly. "Hence, the pharmacy."

Silence enveloped them as Raphael applied the potions. At the start, it was comfortable. Stella, as usual, found a sense of peace in the quiet. However, that sense of peace was tainted by Raphael's presence. Discomfort wormed its way through her veins, thrown off once more by him.

She crossed her arms low over her exposed midriff and let her right index finger tap an impatient beat against her elbow. For once, she couldn't let the silence stand.

"I'm collecting secrets."

His ministrations slowed. "More than ours?"

A shiver lifted the hairs on her back and arms. He doesn't have to make it sound so intimate.

"Yes." Stella injected as much haughtiness in her voice as possible, but the effect was more akin to what River referred to as her bedroom voice. Her lips mashed together as she breathed deeply through her nose to collect herself.

Technically , she reminded herself, I have been collecting secrets . There was the soulmark Raphael didn't know about, and then, most recently, Nova. The last tally slammed into Stella like a wrecking ball.

"Stella?"

Her head whipped back to look at him. He wore an amused expression. "Yes?"

"Your secrets, love." Raphael grinned outright at her confounded frown. "What are they?"

Stella's mouth opened to reply before snapping shut and shooting him a knowing glare. "They wouldn't be secrets if I told you now, would they?"

"Touché," he murmured. "Is your conversation with Gabriel earlier one of your dearly guarded secrets?"

Stella scoffed and tipped her chin down. "He had some lame pickup line that's not worth repeating. I'm sure he wanted something from me in return for that invite he extended to a Lunar Court event. Guys like him are easy enough to read."

"Is that so? I had no idea you were such an expert at reading people." Stella rolled her eyes. "Or so good at keeping secrets. Tell me, were you able to discern Gabriel's secret as quickly as you were his ulterior motives? I always thought it quite obvious."

"… no," Stella answered with reluctance.

Raphael hummed knowingly. "Turn around, let's see your other injuries."

"I can take care of it myself." The corner of Raphael's mouth gave a tell-tale twitch, one side lifting into a smirk. Stella knew immediately what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. "Don't even think of saying, ‘ Indulge me, love, '" Stella said, mimicking his accent terribly.

An abrupt laugh burst out of him, catching them both a bit off guard. "You are full of surprises. I'd never have guessed you had such a sharp tongue, or that in the face of death, you harbor no fear." His voice coasted lower and lower as he spoke. Stella swallowed as his smirk slipped into an easy smile. "I was going to say, I don't like to leave a job unfinished."

His words sparked something visceral inside her. Something needy and aching that Stella couldn't pinpoint. Her mouth dried as her soulmark gave a weak pulse.

She instantly broke their eye contact with a harsh exhale. Absolutely not . She flinched at the severity of her mental scolding. Get his blood and end this… whatever this is.

Another voice, darker and softer, chimed from the back of her mind. You're reading into things that aren't there. Like usual. You can't help yourself, can you? Always wanting —

Fingertips grazed the area near her temple, brushing away hair to inspect the tender bump there and interrupting Stella's thoughts. She tensed and released a harsh breath through clenched teeth, causing a horrible throb of pain to run along her jaw.

"You've got quite the bump here," Raphael said. "Your pharmacy wouldn't happen to have anything to treat that, would it?"

Stella's shoulders sagged as she tentatively massaged the masseter muscle directly behind her molars. "Um, maybe the Ender slave? It's the one in the small red tin. I'll just take some regular painkillers for my jaw and where they grabbed my hair." Stella rubbed a bit more aggressively and stretched her jaw open to loosen the muscle. "My jaw isn't feeling the best after that weird magical tape."

"Will this work for the redness around your mouth too?"

Stella nodded even as wariness settled inside her stomach. "You really don't have to do this."

"I told you." Raphael spun the lid of the tin off and set it aside. "I don't like to leave a job unfinished."

Stella managed to resist the magnetic pull of his gaze, keeping her eyes locked on the small space between their bodies instead. The salve magically soothed the worst of the pain around her temple.

"Head up."

His knuckles brushed the underside of her chin. Stella tilted her head up from the light pressure. She kept her lashes mostly lowered as he gently applied the salve around her mouth. His touch was tender, and it inspired another befuddling surreal moment for Stella. Why is he being so gentle?

"There, all better." Raphael cleared his throat and took a step back. Stella glanced at him. Now it was Raphael who dutifully avoided eye contact. "As for the matter we were discussing earlier. Once you successfully divine Gabriel's secret, I'll consider you proficient in the first skill I laid forth."

Stella shrank back an inch and wore her surprise without filter. " Oh . Okay, that's it?"

"We'll see if you can't force it out of him," Raphael replied with a cruel smile.

Stella's stomach somersaulted. She got the distinct sense there was something he wasn't saying, or perhaps it was just her imagination. Stella couldn't tell, but that didn't stop her from taking the two little pills he dropped in her hand. She swallowed them dry and watched him put away the medicine.

"You don't have to do that."

Raphael heaved a sigh and stepped away from her vanity toward the door.

Toward her.

"Your constant badgering has worked. I'll stop playing nice now." His cruel smile was still in place as he brushed past her. Stella moved aside, eyes darting after him as he strode from her bedroom. She glanced back into her bathroom, noticing that most of the medicine had been returned to its rightful place in her basket. Only a few things remained on her sink's counter, including a slender piece of metal. Her nail scissors.

Could she…

Her gaze rushed back to Raphael. He was pushing past the beaded curtain into her front room.

Did she dare?

"Wait!" Stella caught up with him in the front room a few seconds later and grabbed his arm. "Don't go."

Stella's nervous system sounded the alarm as seconds passed by without a response. She didn't know whether to let go or grip him tighter. Raphael decided for her, turning on his heel and stepping into her personal space.

"Why?"

"You… you technically didn't give me my lesson." Raphael's head cocked to the side, eyes narrowing. "Just a homework assignment."

Raphael eyed Stella with suspicion as surprise coursed through his body. What is she playing at? She stared up at him, blue eyes wide and swimming with emotions.

That she wanted any kind of instruction after what happened in the locker room was astonishing, but perhaps the little banshee didn't want to be alone after Gabriel's attack.

The knowledge soured his stomach. He couldn't exactly prove it was Gabriel who led the charge, but who else would interfere so blatantly with his plans by trying to kill Stella first? Outside knowing the actual identities of the attackers, he could at least say they were demons. After all, they traveled through the Ether to make their grand escape.

He wished he could have seen what happened inside that strange dome. He might have been able to glean some clue as to who the culprits were. As it was, he'd felt like a fool banging against the ward's walls trying to get in and save her.

And if someone else besides me kills her—and not discreetly—I'm fucked, and Layla's dead.

Raphael had almost broken through the ward too. With each pass of his fist, a curious strength had filled him like lightning. He swore he had felt it weaken. The very air around him had been charged with his determination. But did his heroic attempts garner even a thank you from the banshee? None! Ungrateful chit. To make matters worse, he'd then gone out of his way to be kind to her.

He cringed internally.

His guilt from manipulating Jax was rubbing off in his other missions. It made him far less inclined to hear her out now, and yet he couldn't help himself from being intrigued.

"What kind of lesson are you looking for?"

Stella licked her lips as she released his arm. "Embracing darkness."

His eyebrows rose slowly as he ran his eyes over her. It was probably the shock talking, but it wasn't enough to deter him. She was asking, and so he would take from her what she freely offered. Anything to get this little farce over sooner.

"After you," Raphael murmured, stepping aside, and gesturing for her to sit on the loveseat.

Stella passed what Raphael could only call a faltering look down toward the clenched hand she held stiffly in front of her. It wasn't the most flattering reaction, but he let it slide.

"So," she began, sinking down onto the loveseat. Her hands worried against each other before she tactfully flattened them out against her lap to disguise her anxiety. Raphael prayed for patience as she ducked her head. "How do you want to go about… conducting the lesson?"

She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, anxiety replaced swiftly with darkened eyes filled with purpose.

That. There.

The hunter in Raphael took immediate notice of the shift in the rest of Stella's body. The relaxed shoulders. Her lowered voice like tempered chocolate. He'd never gotten glimpses of this Stella before. The one who wanted to dance in the darkness. The one who desired to lay claim to her womanhood like every other female at court. Something tightened his gut and a tingling sensation erupted across his chest.

The only question was… did she have the nerve to play?