The next morning, Alexa was in the kitchen, trying to whip up something simple for the three of them to eat. She reached up to grab a jar from the top shelf, but it was just out of reach.
Before she could ask for help, Levi appeared behind her and grabbed it easily. She turned to stop him — worried about his injury and thinking he should be resting.
But then she remembered. He was a primordial.
No ordinary man.
He didn't need to worry about a scratch like that.
Levi's eyes caught hers for a moment, a quiet smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You worried about me?" he teased softly, his voice low.
Alexa flushed but looked away, busying herself with chopping some vegetables. "I just… you should rest, that's all."
He stepped closer, the air around him cool and calm. "I'm fine. You don't have to fuss over me."
She bit her lip, still unsettled but not wanting to argue. The kitchen felt warmer somehow with him there — even if he was a creature of the night, something untouchable.
"Here," Levi said, reaching out to help her with the cutting board. "Let me do this."
Alexa hesitated, then nodded, sliding the board toward him.
As he moved, the simple act felt like a small truce — two worlds meeting over something as ordinary as breakfast.
Levi took the knife smoothly, his movements confident and precise. Alexa watched him for a moment, feeling a strange mix of awe and caution. There was something about him—calm, controlled, but powerful beneath the surface.
"So," she said quietly, trying to break the silence, "what do you want for breakfast?"
Levi glanced up with a faint smile. "Whatever you make is fine."
She laughed softly, the tension easing a little. "You're impossible."
He shrugged like it was nothing. "I like it that way."
The kitchen filled with the sound of chopping and the quiet hum of the morning. For a little while, the world outside faded away.
Levi glanced up as Alexa chopped the veggies, then reached out and gently took her hand off the board.
"Relax," he said, voice low but firm. "You don't have to do everything alone."
She hesitated, then let him guide her hand to rest at her side.
The moment stretched, and Alexa felt a heat rise in her chest. She looked away, cheeks warming.
"Thanks," she muttered, almost to herself.
Levi's eyes darkened just a bit. "You're welcome. I'll take care of you — that's the deal, remember?"
Alexa bit her lip, feeling the weight of his words. Somehow, the strange, dangerous world Levi belonged to felt a little less scary with him here.
Alexa picked up the knife again, trying to focus as she sliced the onions. The sharp smell made her eyes sting, but she kept going.
Suddenly, the knife slipped — just a little — and she felt a sharp pain in her finger. She looked down to see a thin line of blood.
"Shit," she muttered, holding her hand under the faucet.
Levi was instantly by her side, his eyes narrowing. "Let me see."
She tried to pull her hand away, but he gently caught it. "It's just a small cut."
Alexa frowned. "It hurts."
Levi grabbed a clean towel and wrapped it around her finger. "You need to be more careful."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "Yeah, yeah."
Alexa looked up at him, her finger still wrapped in the towel. "Aren't you… you know, craving my blood or something?" she asked, half-joking but curious.
Levi smirked, shaking his head. "No. I don't drink just because I want to." He paused, his eyes darkening a little. "Not when the primordial spirit inside me isn't demanding it."
She raised an eyebrow. "So, you only drink when it tells you to?"
He nodded. "Exactly. It's not some constant hunger."
Alexa studied him for a moment, then smiled. "That's… kind of reassuring."
Levi's smirk softened into something almost like warmth. "Good."
Levi leaned on the counter, eyes fixed on Alexa as she tried to act busy with the onions.
"So," he said, voice low. "The rumors. True or false?"
Alexa's hands paused. Her back was turned to him, but she could feel his eyes on her. She gave a small, tired laugh.
"Yeah. They're true. But… not the way it sounds."
He said nothing.
She turned halfway, trying to meet his gaze but failing. "It wasn't like I just… offered myself up for nothing. It was for personal reasons. Family stuff."
"A night stand, then?" he asked, blunt.
Her lips curled into a sheepish smile. "Yeah. Maybe."
Levi didn't blink. His face was unreadable, neutral, like he was judging nothing—just observing.
Levi leaned on the counter, arms folded, quiet for a beat too long.
Then he let out a cold, short laugh. "Humans are pathetic."
Alexa turned, confused. "What do you mean?"
He looked at her, eyes cool. "You sleep with a stranger. He walks off. World turns you into the villain."
His tone wasn't loud or angry. Just honest. And it stung a little.
Alexa frowned. "I didn't want things to go that way."
"I know," he said. "But they did."
There was silence again. He didn't fill it. He just let it sit.
She looked down at her hands. "I didn't even see his face. That's the worst part. I gave something away… to someone I'll never know."
Levi's gaze darkened slightly. "And if you did see him?"
"What?"
"If you knew who he was now—what would you do?"
She blinked. "I don't know. Slap him, maybe." She gave a small, bitter laugh. "Or ask if it meant anything at all."
Levi didn't move. Just watched her.
"You'd ask the man who left you bleeding in the dirt if it meant something?"
His voice was flat. Not mocking. Just... sharp. Like a knife laid on a table.
Alexa didn't respond. She just stared back at him.
Then he added, voice quiet but firm, "You don't need his answer. You need to stop breaking yourself over it."
He walked past her, brushing her shoulder lightly, and said before disappearing down the hall, "Next time—make sure he bleeds too."
She blinked, eyes flicking to Levi's back as he walked away like he hadn't just dropped a blade into her chest. No drama. No anger. Just cold, quiet truth.
She swallowed hard and turned back to the counter. The eggs were half cracked, the onions unfinished, her hand still stinging from the cut. But suddenly, none of that seemed to matter.
Oscar walked in a moment later, holding two mugs of coffee. He raised a brow at her.
"You good?" he asked.
She nodded slowly, not trusting her voice.
"Levi get to you?" Oscar added, handing her a mug.
Alexa gave a tiny smile. "He doesn't talk much, but when he does…"
Oscar chuckled. "Yeah. He's like that. Says little, means plenty. You'll get used to it."
She wasn't sure she ever would.
Oscar sipped his coffee and leaned on the counter beside her. "He's not heartless, you know. Just... built different. Life beat the softness out of him a long time ago."
Alexa glanced toward the hallway Levi had disappeared into. "I don't need him to be soft."
Oscar looked at her, then smiled faintly. "Good. 'Cause that man's made of steel and smoke."
She breathed out a laugh, wiping her hands on a towel. "What's his deal anyway? Why help me?"
Oscar raised a brow. "You think he's helping?"
She blinked. "Isn't he?"
Oscar didn't answer right away. He just stared into his cup, then said, "Levi doesn't do things out of kindness. If he's got you under his roof… it's for a reason."
That silence settled again. The kind that wrapped itself around her spine and whispered: You're not just here because you're unlucky. You're here because something's coming.