Alexa sat frozen on the couch, her eyes fixed on the door long after it slammed shut. Her heart was still pounding from the encounter.
"What kind of guts does that man have…" she muttered, hugging a cushion to her chest. "Is he a vampire too?"
The room felt colder, the air heavy with unspoken threats. She shook herself out of it and headed to the kitchen, trying to focus on something normal—dinner. Cooking was clumsy with her thoughts scattered, hands fumbling more than once.
Just as she set the last dish down, a knock echoed from the door.
Her body tensed.
Not again.
She tiptoed closer, voice low and unsure.
"Levi?"
"Open the door, Alexa," his voice came through—calm, deep, and unmistakable.
Relief and nerves tangled in her chest as she reached for the handle.
She opened the door, and Levi stepped in alone.
"Where's Oscar?" Alexa asked quietly.
Levi smirked. "Already missing him?"
Alexa folded her arms but didn't argue this time. That alone caught Levi's attention—she wasn't fighting back. Odd. But he didn't comment on it.
"He stopped to pick something up. He'll be back soon," Levi said, walking fully into the room and sinking into the couch like the day had drained him.
He leaned back for just a moment—but then his body stiffened. His nose twitched, his jaw locked slightly.
Vampire blood. Elite.
He sat up straighter.
"Any visitors?" he asked casually, eyes still fixed somewhere ahead.
"No. None," Alexa answered quickly.
Levi didn't reply. He didn't look convinced either. He opened his mouth to probe further, but just then, a knock came at the door.
Alexa hurried to open it.
"Levi, you crazy creature—you left me to trek all the way here by myself," Oscar grumbled as he stepped inside, panting and scratching his head. "Do I look like a primordial to you?"
"Dinner is ready," Alexa interrupted, not in the mood for banter.
Oscar turned toward her. "Ooh. What's for dinner?"
Levi said nothing. He looked detached, almost like he was meditating. No—investigating.
"Levi, is that alright?" Alexa asked gently, referring to the food.
He nodded absently, not really listening.
She returned from the kitchen with a tray and laid the food out. Oscar wasted no time digging in. Alexa joined him, chewing quietly—but Levi didn't touch a thing. His eyes were fixed on the air, like he was watching something no one else could see.
Then he spoke, voice low.
"Xandria. Did you have any visitors?"
She looked up at him, confused.
"I said no," she said. "Eat something."
His eyes didn't move from hers.
"I'm not wrong… Are you lying to me?"
He stood and walked toward her, face unreadable, gaze sharp. He stopped close, too close, and tilted his face near hers.
Then—he grabbed her arm.
That arm.
"Tell me, Xandria. True or false?"
"Ah—Levi, stop!" she cried out as pain shot through her. The mark on her arm burned.
Levi glanced down. She tried to cover it with her other hand, but it was too late. He'd seen.
"What happened to your arm?"
Levi's voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the air. He was still holding her, but his grip had softened just a little. Not much.
Alexa stiffened, her heart jumping.
"It's nothing. Just… bruises," she muttered. "An accident."
She tried to pull away, to tuck her arm back, but Levi didn't let go.
"Doesn't look like an accident."
He pressed his fingers harder into the swollen skin, and she gasped.
"Levi, stop—!"
His eyes locked on hers. Focused. Sharp. No emotion—just cold calculation. Like he was already building a picture in his head.
"Tell me the truth, Xandria." His tone shifted. Lower. Dead serious. "Who did this to you?"
Alexa's throat tightened. She looked down, her lips trembling.
"I… I didn't want to cause a problem."
Levi didn't move.
"Who touched you?"
"Someone came. Earlier. When you were gone." Her voice cracked. "He threatened me. Said if I got in the way of your awakening, he'd… kill me."
Levi's jaw clenched. His body went still.
Alexa felt it—the change in the air. The silence that felt heavier than a scream.
"What's his name?" he asked again, quieter this time, but more dangerous.
"Levi—please—don't—"
"His name, Alexa," he snapped, voice rising just slightly.
She flinched. "Skye," she whispered. "His name was Skye."
Levi didn't say a word. Didn't ask anything else.
He dropped her arm, turned around, grabbed his keys from the table, and was out the door before she could breathe.
"Levi!" she called, standing up.
But he was gone.
Oscar, still chewing on a piece of omelette, sighed as he walked over.
"Well… someone's about to die," he muttered.
Alexa didn't reply. She just sat back down, the sting in her arm nothing compared to the storm now brewing outside.
******
The night was tense. Levi's car tore down the dark road like a bullet fired with purpose. His knuckles gripped the steering wheel, jaw clenched, eyes glowing faintly under the dashboard light.
He had warned them. Every vampire within the city walls had heard his words—"She is under my protection. Touch her, and you'll wish for death."
Yet this bastard dared.
Levi's aura surged, invisible but heavy, like a storm building in the air. Streetlights blurred past him. His mind burned with one name: Skye. The arrogance. The audacity.
He swerved into the long driveway of the estate, tires screeching. His feet barely hit the ground before he slammed the car door shut. The entire place went still. Even the night itself seemed to brace.
At the top balcony, Skye stood—leaning on the rail like he owned the world, swirling blood-red wine in his crystal glass. Calm. Careless.
Levi's boots crunched on the gravel as he climbed the stairs without a word, his presence enough to silence the guards. The moment Skye saw him, his smirk curved lazily, "Didn't expect you this early, Lord Levi. Care for a drink?"
Levi didn't blink. "You touched her."
Skye raised a brow. "Her?"
Levi stepped onto the balcony. The air around him shifted—sharp, suffocating, burning. The glass in Skye's hand cracked. Still, Skye laughed softly, "It was just a warning. She's... fragile. I didn't think you'd come charging like this over—"
Crack.
Levi moved so fast, Skye barely saw the punch. His glass shattered fully on the ground. Blood ran from his split lip as he stumbled back.
"I said—never touch her." Levi's voice was ice over fire.
Skye straightened, face hardening, ego bruised. "You'd break the code over a human girl?"
Levi's purple eyes flared brighter. "Not just a girl. Prey to devour. You put your filthy hands on her and marked her. That's more than disrespect, Skye. That's war."
The silence between them boiled. Skye wiped the blood from his lip, chuckled low. "You've changed."
"And you're about to bleed for it." Levi's tone was deadly calm.
Then, without warning, he struck again—this time with more than fists. Skye was slammed against the railing, the metal groaning beneath the force. Levi's hand pressed to his chest, glowing faintly.
Skye gasped, struggling. "Wait—Levi—"
"You should've waited before touching what's mine."
A sharp wind blew through the balcony. Skye dropped to his knees, coughing violently as the pressure in the air lifted. Levi stepped back, silent, composed—but his gaze was pure flame.
Skye's body slumped against the shattered column, blood dripping from the side of his mouth, soaking into the floor beneath him. His breathing was labored, chest heaving, pain crawling through every nerve.
But he didn't move.
Didn't fight back.
Didn't lift a finger.
Not because he couldn't.
But because it was Levi.
And to raise a hand against a Primordial—the last of them—wasn't just foolish. It was suicidal.
He coughed, crimson flecking his lips, and tilted his head back to the night sky, dazed.
"Still the same Levi," he thought grimly. "Unforgiving. Unshakable. Impossible to match."
Another jolt of pain tore through his ribs, where Levi had cracked bone like paper. Still, Skye didn't groan. Not aloud. He accepted the pain. Welcomed it.
"I crossed the line," he thought. "I touched what belonged to him."
He chuckled to himself—low, bitter, broken—as more blood trickled past his teeth.
"Alexa… what the hell are you to him?"
Levi stood a few feet away, a shadow sculpted from wrath and restraint, eyes glowing faintly like embers that hadn't cooled yet. His jaw was tight. His fists still curled.
Skye looked up at him. "You going to kill me?" he rasped, voice hoarse but steady. "Or is this enough?"
No reply. Just that deadly silence Levi wore like armor.
Skye exhaled and leaned his head back against the cold wall. "I didn't do it to provoke you," he muttered. "Didn't know who she was to you. Not really. Not until I saw your face when she was bleeding."
He swallowed hard.
"That's when I knew. She's your boundary. Your limit."
He glanced toward Levi again, a flicker of regret slipping through his pride.
"I deserved it. Not because I'm weak. But because I forgot who you are—and what you protect."
Still, Levi said nothing. Didn't blink. Didn't flinch.
Skye let out a breath and looked away. "I'll survive," he whispered. "Eventually."
A pause. Heavy. The kind that bends time.
Then softly, to himself: "There's a reason no one dares fight the last Primordial."
"Let this scar remind you," he said coldly, turning away. "Next time, I won't leave you breathing."
And with that, Levi disappeared into the night.
*****
The clock ticked.
Alexa sat curled on the edge of the couch, her fingers cold against her knees. The room was quiet, too quiet. The tray of food sat mostly untouched, now cold. Oscar sat on the armrest beside her, chewing absentmindedly on a toothpick.
"He's been gone too long," she murmured, eyes locked on the door.
Oscar exhaled and leaned forward. "He knows how to handle himself. This isn't the first time someone's crossed the line."
She turned to him, worry carved deep into her face. "But it's the first time it was because of me."
Oscar didn't answer right away. He scratched the back of his head, then glanced at her.
"You don't get it, do you?" he said. "He doesn't do this for just anyone."
Alexa's brows pulled together. "Do what?"
"Lose control," Oscar muttered. "Get in his car without thinking. Confront someone personally. He doesn't waste energy. But you… you're different."
She dropped her gaze, her chest tightening. "I didn't ask to be."
Oscar smirked faintly. "Doesn't matter. You already are."
She shook her head. "You think he's okay?"
"Levi?" Oscar laughed dryly. "If anything, I'm worried for the idiot on the other side of his fists."
"But Skye's—"
"An elite. Yeah. So is Levi. And angrier. He warned everyone to stay away from you." He glanced sideways. "This Skye guy? Broke a direct order. That's suicide."
Alexa was quiet for a long beat, then whispered, "But what if he doesn't come back?"
Oscar turned to her fully now. "He will."
"How do you know?"
"Because you're waiting."
That silenced her.
And for a few moments, they just sat there—quiet, the tension between them real, the weight of the unknown pressing against the walls like smoke.
*****
The front door clicked open.
Oscar looked up from the dimly lit hallway just as Levi stepped in, his boots silent on the polished floors. The air shifted with his arrival—dense, heavier. The storm that had left blood behind had returned... without a scratch.
Levi's jaw was tight, eyes darker than before, unreadable.
"Where is Alexa?" he asked, voice sharp and low, a command rather than a question.
Oscar hesitated. "She's in her bedroom... crying."
Levi didn't respond. He didn't need to. In a blink, he was already down the hall, the shadows chasing his long coat as he moved.
He stopped at her door.
Knocked once.
Inside, Alexa sniffled. "Oscar, I'll be fine. Don't worry," she called softly, her voice strained, her nose stuffy from crying.
Levi opened the door.
Slowly. Silently.
Alexa turned—and froze.
There he was. Standing tall, in the doorway like a phantom returning from war. No blood on him. No rage. Just... Levi. And the weight of everything between them.
"Alexa," he said quietly. Gently. But the way he said it—like it meant something deeper than just her name.
She stared at him.
Then rushed forward.
Without a thought, she threw herself into his chest, burying her face against him, sobbing so hard her body trembled. "Don't ever leave like that again without a reason," she cried, her fists lightly hitting his chest.
He didn't stop her.
"I will try," he murmured, voice quiet, almost reluctant. Like it was a promise he didn't know how to keep.
And then, finally, slowly, his palm tapping her head. Not hard. Not possessive. Just... there.
Her tears soaked into his shirt, hot and aching. And Levi—Levi let them.
He closed his eyes.
For a second, he held her like she was the only thing that could burn the monster out of him.
But seconds never lasted.
His hand dropped. His body stiffened. The warmth drained from his touch.
"You should hate me for what I've done and what I'm capable of doing to you," he said, his voice turning cold, stripped of softness.
"Not cling to me like I'm your only home."
Then, carefully—too carefully—his hands moved to peel her away.
Like she was something he couldn't afford to hold.
Something too fragile for a man like him.