The muffled hum of voices stirred Alexa from sleep. Sunlight spilled through the curtains in narrow streams, warm against her skin, but the chill in the air made her pull the blanket tighter.
She sat up, blinking hard. There it was again—a deep voice, firm, controlled, filtering in from somewhere below.
She slipped out of bed, padding barefoot to the hallway. As she crept down the stairs, the voice sharpened, each word precise, like a blade honed to perfection.
"…If he runs, break his legs. I want him alive, not brave."
Alexa stopped cold just before reaching the landing. Her fingers curled around the banister. Below her, in the spacious living room, Levi stood in the center like he owned the world—and maybe he did.
He was dressed in black from collar to boots, a thick silk jacket stretched across his shoulders. In one hand, he held his phone to his ear. In the other, a pistol. As casually as someone might twirl a pen.
She watched in stunned silence as he pressed a magazine into the chamber with an effortless click. No hesitation. No rush. Like he'd done it a thousand times.
"I'll meet you at the docks," he said into the phone, voice low and toneless. "Don't be late."
He hung up. No glance, no sigh. Just a man with a loaded weapon and a mind set on war.
Then—he turned.
His eyes locked on her. Cold. Clear. Calculating.
Alexa straightened, heart pounding.
He didn't say a word. He didn't have to.
The silence between them stretched like a wire pulled too tight.
She opened her mouth, unsure what she even meant to say.
But he was already walking past her. The gun still in his hand. The scent of smoke and cologne lingering in his wake.
She stood there, frozen.
And for the first time since waking in his house, Alexa realized:
She didn't just step into a stranger's world.
She stepped into a predator's territory.
Alexa stood motionless on the stairs, her breath caught somewhere between fear and fury. She didn't fully understand what Levi was, or what she'd stepped into—but watching him load a gun like it was part of his morning routine left no room for guessing.
He wasn't just dangerous.
He was built for danger.
She told herself to stay upstairs, to pretend she hadn't seen anything. To play it safe.
But she didn't.
Minutes later, she found herself trailing him across the marble floor, her bare feet silent compared to the echo of his boots.
"Levi," she said, her voice low but steady.
He paused at the door, glancing back just enough to acknowledge her. His hand, still gripping the gun, relaxed slightly but didn't drop.
"Going somewhere?" she asked.
His gaze was unreadable. "Business."
"With a gun?"
He didn't blink. "Do I ask what you dream about at night?"
She flinched. That wasn't an answer. It was a warning.
Still, she took a step closer. "I heard what you said. You're going after someone."
"Good ears." He turned fully now, his body all sharp lines and shadows. "You don't need to understand what I do. You just need to understand this—" He raised the pistol slightly, not threateningly, but as if showing her a part of him she could never unsee. "This world answers to blood. Not questions."
Her mouth parted. "And if I ask anyway?"
His eyes met hers, and for a heartbeat, they softened. Just a flicker.
"You'll get answers you're not ready for."
With that, he turned, opened the door, and vanished into the morning haze.
The silence he left behind was heavier than his words. Alexa stood there, trembling—not from fear exactly, but from the weight of knowing:
She wasn't living with a man.
She was living with a monster who wore the skin of one.
And the worst part?
A part of her wanted to follow.
*****
Levi gripped the wheel with one hand, driving like the road belonged to him. The streetlights blinked past in a blur, glowing off the wet pavement. He didn't care about the speed. Or the rules. No one stopped him anymore.
His phone buzzed, and he clicked the Bluetooth in his ear.
"We found him," the voice said. "Dock 19. He's already there."
Levi didn't answer at first. He adjusted the cuffs of his black shirt, let out a breath. Cold air filtered through the half-cracked window, but it didn't calm the burn in his chest.
"Let him wait," he said flatly.
The line went quiet for a second.
"You got it, boss."
He ended the call.
Bastard thought he could play games—sell out his shipments and vanish like smoke. But Levi always collected what was his. Money. Loyalty. Blood.
As the car took a sharp turn, he thought about Alexa. How she came downstairs earlier, barefoot, eyes full of nerves, warning him about Skye. She didn't know anything about this world. But she still tried to speak.
That was the strange part.
She wasn't trying to control him. She just... cared.
He shook the thought off.
This wasn't the time for her.
Tonight was about business. A message.
The tires screeched a little as he pulled up near the dock. Mist rolled in off the water, curling under the streetlamps. He stepped out, heavy boots hitting the ground. The coat around his shoulders fluttered with the breeze.
Gun loaded. Face blank. No emotion.
Just a job.
And if the bastard begged?
That would be the fun part.
The warehouse by the docks looked abandoned from the outside—rusted metal doors, chipped bricks, and a crooked sign that read Port Storage No. 7. But Levi knew better. Behind those doors, a shipment worth more than a small country's budget waited. And men who thought they could outsmart him.
The black car rolled to a stop, gravel crunching under the tires. Levi stepped out without a word, his boots hitting the ground with weight. He wore the same thick black jacket from earlier, but now the wind tugged at it like even the night itself was wary of him.
A man approached—thin, anxious, probably someone's cousin they thought could handle a job like this.
"You're late," the man stammered. "There was—there was a delay at customs. Small hiccup."
Levi didn't answer. He just walked past him.
Inside the warehouse, crates were stacked high, labeled with fake pharmaceutical tags. Levi removed one glove slowly, revealing the rings on his fingers. One glinted red. Not ruby—just blood dried under the stone.
"I don't tolerate hiccups," he said, voice calm, low.
He crouched beside a crate, knocked twice, and then cracked it open. Guns. Modified. Clean.
But it wasn't the weapons he was worried about.
It was the silence. The kind of silence before a trap was sprung.
Levi stood slowly. "Tell me, Dominic… why is the dock manager's phone turned off? Why did my contact disappear two hours ago? And why..." He turned to the nervous man, "…are you sweating when it's ten degrees out?"
Dominic opened his mouth, but Levi was faster. The gun he'd cocked earlier was in his hand before the man could speak.
"You tried to sell me out."
"No! I swear—!"
"Wrong answer."
A single gunshot echoed through the warehouse. Levi suspected. He was right. Dominic was infected by vampire blood and possibly now a threat to the humans, he couldn't afford to.
The men behind him didn't flinch. They knew better.
Levi turned, wiped the blood off his cheek with a handkerchief, and said, "Clean it. Burn the body. And find the ones he was working with."
As Levi walked away, his phone buzzed.
A text.
From her.
Alexa.
> Dinner at 8 PM. Don't be late.
****
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Alexa padded barefoot into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The cold tiles shocked her skin, but she didn't care. Her hair was a mess, tied in a lazy bun that kept slipping every few seconds. She glanced at the time on the wall clock.
7:09 PM.
Just enough time.
She'd texted Levi—Dinner at 8. Don't be late.
He didn't reply, of course. But if he showed up, she wanted things ready.
Not dinner exactly. She couldn't cook like some five-star chef. But she could throw something together. And popcorn? That she could manage.
Maybe they could watch something. She hadn't touched the giant flat screen in the parlor since she got here. Not because she wasn't curious, but because... well, Levi wasn't exactly the kind of guy you invited to movie night. Still, tonight felt different. Or maybe she was just insane.
She pulled a bag of kernels from the cupboard, sniffed it to make sure it wasn't expired, then dumped it into a pot. She added oil, turned on the gas, and waited.
Tick... tick... pop.
The first kernel exploded, and she jumped slightly, then laughed to herself. "God, get a grip."
She moved around the kitchen, grabbing a soda from the fridge and setting two glasses down on the counter. Halfway through pouring, she paused and looked at the door.
Was this dumb?
Was she really setting up a movie night... with him?
But something about it made her heart race. Not fear exactly. Not anymore.
The popcorn started going wild in the pot, loud bursts echoing through the kitchen. She scrambled to shake it a little so it wouldn't burn. A puff of steam shot out when she lifted the lid, and a few pieces flew out and landed on the counter.
She popped one into her mouth and winced. Too hot.
Then she leaned against the counter, arms crossed, staring at the clock again.
7:23 PM.
He'd come. Maybe. Maybe not.
But she was going to be ready either way.
******
Levi had just sat in his car exhausted resting his head on the car seat as poured two fingers of whiskey into a crystal glass when his phone buzzed.
He picked it up without checking the screen.
"Talk," he said simply.
The voice on the other end was cool and direct. "The elders want a word."
Levi's grip on the glass tightened slightly. "Tonight?"
"Sanctum Hall. Midnight. No delays."
He raised the glass, took a slow sip. The burn didn't faze him.
"They're asking about the girl."
Silence. Long enough for the caller to get nervous.
"She's human. Living in your home. That's not normal for someone in your position."
"I don't give a damn what they think."
"You should," the voice said sharply. "You've drawn attention. The port hit. That rogue you executed. And now this girl?"
Levi lowered the glass and stared at the wall for a long second.
"Tell them I'll be there. And if any one of them mentions her name like she's prey—"
"You'll start a war?"
Levi didn't answer. He just ended the call.
He downed the rest of the whiskey, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then glanced at the time.
8 PM was closing in.
And Alexa had just texted.
> Dinner at 8. Don't be late.
The back entrance to the abandoned opera house groaned open like a throat swallowing him whole. Levi stepped inside, his footsteps echoing across the marble floor where ghosts of performances long forgotten still lingered. Dust clung to velvet curtains. Everything smelled of age—old wood, older blood, and secrets better left buried.
He descended the staircase beneath the stage, where the true court met. Not in gold halls, but catacombs soaked in centuries of silence.
Torches flickered along the damp stone corridor. At the end, two guards waited—tall, pale, with eyes that burned faintly red. They didn't speak. They only nodded and opened the iron doors.
Inside, the room was circular, lit only by a massive chandelier of twisted bone and candlelight. Seated around a half-moon stone table were four vampires older than any living king. The Elders.
At the center sat Elder Myros, bald, ageless, with eyes like coal soaked in wine. To his left, Lady Vira, wrapped in crimson silk, ageless and sharp-lipped. The others were less memorable—Levi had never cared for their names.
Levi walked in with no bow, no greeting. Only a calm, calculated presence that made the youngest guard flinch slightly.
"You were told not to bring chaos to the human sectors," Myros said without looking up. "And yet three bodies turned up last night. Blood drained. Throats torn."
Levi took a step forward. "Those weren't mine."
"No one cares whose they were," Vira said coolly. "The humans are growing suspicious. And your name? It's starting to circle with theirs."
"That's not my problem," Levi said. "Unless the Council's suddenly scared of gossip."
Myros's eyes narrowed. "Don't forget yourself, boy. We made you. Elevated you. We let you rise from street scum to shadow prince. Don't confuse that with power of your own."
Silence.
Levi didn't blink. "I don't forget. I just stopped caring." he said remembering the awful incident when he was young with this so called elders
Vira leaned forward, lips curling. "There's also the girl."
Levi said nothing.
"She's human," another Elder added. "Too close to you. Uncontrolled. Unclean. She could expose us."
"She won't," Levi replied.
"But she could," Myros countered. "You've killed for less risk."
"She's not a risk," Levi said simply. Then, in a quieter voice, "She's mine."
A beat passed.
Then Myros laughed. Not kindly.
"You're becoming sentimental."
Levi's gaze sharpened. "No. I'm becoming bored of this meeting."
He turned, coat flaring slightly as he walked back toward the exit.
"Careful, Levi," Vira called. "We're patient. But not forever."
Levi didn't stop walking. "Then you'd better start praying your time lasts longer than mine."