"I don't want you messing with my mate, Alma."
Rafael's voice cut through the infirmary, sharp and controlled, nothing like the groan Julian had heard moments earlier.
"This is not one of your games," he continued. "This is not—" he paused, jaw tightening, "we are not puppets for you to toy with. I know you have a tendency to see everyone and everything as an interesting destination for your curiosity, but that is not where we are." His eyes flicked, briefly but deliberately, to Julian. "So I want you to take this seriously. Or back off. Immediately."
Julian felt his chest tighten.
The words weren't loud, but they were fierce. Protective. And unmistakably sincere in the way Rafael cared for Julian.
He glanced at Alma. For once, she wasn't smiling.
Julian did think she'd been too callous too quick to treat something frightening as fascinating but he also knew this wasn't entirely her fault.
So before the silence could sharpen further, he stepped forward.
