Levi's thumb hovered over the loosened button.
Then—just when Alexa thought he'd close the space, that he might press his lips to hers or say something that would shatter whatever line they were balancing on—he pulled back.
Slowly. Intentionally.
The warmth of his fingers left her waist, replaced by the cold breath of distance.
He didn't step far. Just enough.
Enough to remind her who held control.
"I'm not doing this," Levi said quietly, his voice like velvet over steel. "Not with a human who doesn't understand what she's playing with."
Alexa blinked, the storm outside roaring in her ears. Rain tapped wildly against the leaking glass above, some droplets slipping through the cracked ceiling, hitting the floor between them.
"You're the one who pulled me close," she whispered.
"I did," he agreed, tilting his head, silver eyes narrowing slightly. "And I'm also the one stopping this."
Her brows lifted, stung but refusing to show it.
Levi stepped even closer this time—invading, not tempting. His tone dipped low, almost a command.
"You fall asleep on my bed again, Alexa," he said, voice sharp, "I won't be heating soup or hunting down bunnies. You'll pay in ways soup can't fix."
Her breath caught, heart thudding.
He leaned close again—but not for a kiss.
Just to whisper, "Now, go back to your room. And lock the door."
The tension crackled louder than the thunder.
But she didn't move immediately.
So Levi's hand came up again—this time not to tease, but to guide. A firm hand at her lower back, leading her through the hall like she was trespassing sacred ground.
He opened her door.
And without another word, he nudged her inside and shut it.
The sound of rain followed, along with the echo of something unspoken—something that hung in the air, heavy, electric.
Alexa stared at the door.
Not sure whether to curse him.
Or crave him more.
The sound of the door clicking shut behind her felt final. Like a verdict.
Alexa just stood there in the dim glow of her room, the air still humming from his touch.
He hadn't said much—not after brushing her waist, not after daring her with those dangerous words. Just a firm grip on her shoulders, a muttered, "You're not flying anywhere tonight," and then he'd walked her back, locked the door from the outside.
And left.
Her fingers slowly rose to her waist.
She touched the spot where his hand had been—firm, hot, possessive. Not like a touch meant to comfort. More like a warning not to push him further.
"I hate him," she whispered. But her voice cracked, betraying her.
She moved to the mirror.
Her pajama top was still slightly undone. The dampness from the leaking hallway had dried in patches, and her cheeks looked more flushed than she'd realized.
Her mind kept replaying the way his voice dipped, the way he'd said:
> "Curiosity always leads to something dangerous. Especially when it ends on my bed."
She closed her eyes and groaned, flopping onto her mattress.
Why did her heart race like that? Why did her stomach twist like he'd whispered something filthy instead of just teasing her?
She rolled onto her side, pulling the blanket up to her chin.
"Next time," she mumbled into the pillow, "I'm the one locking him out."
But even as she said it, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
The room still smelled faintly of him. Spiced, dark, like midnight heat and secrets. The kind of scent you remembered in dreams.
She pressed her face deeper into the pillow.
And sleep took her.
*****
The Next Morning
She woke to sunlight bleeding through the curtains. Her limbs stretched slowly, eyes blinking against the light. There was a strange calm in her chest. Like a storm had passed—but only barely.
And the memory of where Levi's hand had rested still lingered on her skin.
Alexa padded out of her room barefoot, wearing a clean shirt over her pajamas this time—buttoned all the way up. Her hair was still a mess, but she didn't care. She was hoping to avoid Levi entirely this morning.
Of course, fate had other plans.
She turned the corner toward the staircase and walked straight into him.
Chest.
Hard.
Warm.
Levi didn't budge. He barely moved—except to glance down at her with those cold silver eyes. A phone was pressed to his ear.
"Yes," he said coolly into it, "anyone who lays a hand on the shipment dies."
His hand snapped out, catching Alexa by the wrist before she could pull away.
She blinked up at him, startled.
He didn't look at her. Not yet.
"I said—burn it if the conditions aren't met. I'm not repeating myself," he continued, his voice razor-sharp, completely calm. Like someone giving orders to wipe out a village.
Meanwhile, his grip on her wrist tightened—not painful, but firm. Possessive.
Like she was interrupting and he didn't like being interrupted... but he didn't want her to leave either.
She tried to yank back.
He didn't let go.
Her breath hitched. She looked at his hand, then his face.
Still no glance. Just him—jaw tense, eyes locked forward, commanding chaos through a phone call while holding her in place like she was a misbehaving pet.
She hated the way it made her pulse quicken.
Finally, he muttered one last line into the phone:
"Clean it up. No witnesses. Call me when it's done."
The call ended with a crisp beep.
Only then did his gaze drop to her.
Slow. Cold. Unreadable.
"You always walk without looking?" he asked quietly, the edge of a smirk curling his lip.
She raised her chin. "You always block the hallway like you own it?"
"I do."
Of course he did.
She tried again to pull her hand free, but he didn't let go. His thumb brushed just slightly across the inside of her wrist—absentminded, almost.
"You didn't thank me for locking your door," he murmured, voice low.
"I didn't thank you for touching me either."
His eyes narrowed slightly—amused now. "You're welcome. For both."
She scowled, and finally, he let her go.
But his eyes lingered. Watching her as she turned and walked away.
*****
Alexa didn't look back as she walked.
She felt him, though.
The weight of his gaze trailing over her spine like a touch that hadn't ended. Her pulse was annoyingly loud in her ears, thudding with every step away from him. She turned the corner too fast, nearly missing a stair, and had to grip the rail.
"Idiot," she muttered under her breath. At herself. At him. At the whole house.
She stormed down the stairs barefoot, the cold marble biting into her soles. She didn't know where she was going. Anywhere away from him.
The kitchen? Too obvious. The garden? Too wet. The library?
She swerved into the hallway leading to it, slipped inside, and closed the door behind her with a soft thud.
Silence.
Books lined the walls. Rich, ancient leather bindings. Some without titles. A clock ticked softly somewhere above the mantle.
Alexa pressed her back against the door, exhaled.
Her wrist tingled where he'd held it.
She looked down at it—no mark, no bruise, nothing visible. But the heat lingered, like a ghost of his touch. Her fingers curled into a fist.
Why did he always do that?
Push, pull. Invade, retreat. One minute locking her door like he gave a damn, the next commanding death over the phone while gripping her like she was his to hold.
Her throat tightened.
"This isn't normal," she whispered, to no one.
She moved to the nearest armchair and dropped into it, hugging her knees up. The shirt she wore was too thin, and the air in the library was cool. She didn't want to go back upstairs. Not yet.
Because part of her knew… if she saw him again this morning, she might say something reckless.
Or worse.
She might mean it.
Alexa's gaze drifted across the room—books, quiet, shadows—and then froze.
A gun. Just sitting there on the table.
Not shiny. Not polished. Not locked away. Just there.
She walked to it slowly, eyes narrowing.
"Why would he leave this here?" she muttered to herself. Her fingers hovered above it. "Probably forgot. Or maybe it's another one of his games."
Her hand moved closer.
"You're not seriously going to touch that," a voice cut through the silence—smooth, lazy, laced with amusement.
She stiffened and spun around.
Levi was sitting in the corner in that black leather chair that always rolled, one leg crossed over the other, his chin resting on the back of his hand like he'd been watching her the whole time. Like a damn king enjoying a show.
"Go away," she said, picking up the gun anyway.
His lips twitched. "Or you'll shoot?"
Her hands were trembling now, just slightly, but she raised the gun anyway and pointed it at him.
He didn't flinch.
"Is this supposed to scare me?" he asked, a smirk curling. "Your hands are shaking, sweetheart."
"Don't test me," she snapped. "You think I won't pull the trigger?"
Levi's eyes flashed.
And then her wrist jerked—tight, sudden.
She gasped as tendrils of purple energy wrapped around her hand, her skin prickling, the gun still locked between her fingers. She tried to shake it off. It wouldn't let go.
"Stop it," she cried out.
He stood slowly, like a man with all the time in the world. "You really think," he said as he walked, "it'll be anyone else's hands that kill me?"
She tried to pull away, but her arm wouldn't move. The magic had her frozen—wrist extended, gun in hand, aimed forward.
Levi didn't stop until he was behind her. Close. Too close.
She felt his breath before she heard the whisper.
"Alexa…"
She gasped, her body stiffening as his presence blanketed her like smoke.
"Alexa… Alexa…" he said again, voice dark and slow, and it was like her name was a spell when he said it.
His fingers circled her wrist gently.
"Were you really going to shoot me with this thing in your hand, darling?" he murmured.
She gritted her teeth. "Bastard."
He chuckled near her neck. "Mm. Predictable, Xandria."
Her breath hitched when she felt the warmth of his mouth near her ear.
"Should I pull the trigger for you?" he whispered.
Alexa's eyes widened.
He leaned closer, and his voice dropped to a dangerous hum.
"This gun… it's been changed. Modified. No longer fires forward…" he slid a finger along her trembling hand, "…but backward now."
"No—Levi, don't!" she gasped, twisting.
But she couldn't move. She was stuck in place, magic locking her still.
His breath brushed her skin as he smirked against her neck.
"Let's see how you die… by your own hands."
Then—
Click.
Alexa screamed, eyes shut tight.
Silence.
No pain.
Her chest rose and fell fast, but she was still… alive.
No blood. No impact.
Then—laughter.
Loud. Rich. Cruel.
Her eyes snapped open.
The gun in her hand? It had popped open with a spring-loaded Christmas toy—a grinning elf with a crooked hat bouncing up and down at the end of a coil.
She blinked, stunned.
It was a toy. An old, ridiculous prank toy—forgotten somewhere in the shelves of this cursed, ancient library.
Levi stood in front of her now, arms folded, amusement etched into every corner of his wicked smile.
"You..." she whispered, her voice shaking.
"Next time," he said, stepping closer, "check the weapon before threatening a devil."
She stood there—stiff, humiliated, and fuming—while he walked away, still laughing softly under his breath.
Alexa dropped the ridiculous spring-toy gun onto the nearest chair and stormed after him, her bare feet slapping against the polished floor. "Wait—Levi!"
He didn't stop. Just kept walking, slow and smug.
"You knew that gun was fake, didn't you?" she snapped, catching up.
He finally turned to her, expression unreadable. "Of course I did."
Her eyes narrowed. "So you just stood there and let me—let me think—"
"That you were about to accidentally shoot me?" he offered, arching a brow. "Yes. It was entertaining."
"Entertaining?" she hissed. "I could've had a heart attack!"
"You didn't," he said, already moving again. "Impressive lungs, though."
She groaned and followed him. "Do you always mess with people like this?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he stopped near the counter beside the front entrance, where a sleek black case sat. He unzipped it smoothly and pulled out a pistol. Real. Cold metal. He snapped it open, slid a single bullet in with a soft click, then locked the chamber with a flick.
Her mouth went dry.
He turned the gun in his hand and held it up for her to see. "This one's real. Loaded."
Alexa didn't flinch, but her pulse stuttered.
He slid the pistol into a shoulder holster beneath his coat and smoothed the lapel. "I have work."
"You call killing people 'work' now?" she muttered.
He paused. "You live in a mansion with a devil. You think I sell perfume?"
Before she could reply, he stepped closer, fixing her with that same sharp, calm intensity that made her breath shallow.
"You're staying indoors today," he said. "All day."
Alexa folded her arms. "Why? You think I'll go wander into another fake trap you set up?"
"No," he said, leaning in slightly. "I think if you step out there without me, someone might take you."
Her eyes widened.
Levi's voice dropped, cool and final. "And I don't want to receive calls about your kidnapping while I'm busy cleaning up someone else's mess."
He turned, already headed for the door.
"Stay inside, Xandria," he added, without looking back. "Or the next toy might not be a toy."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Alexa stood there, heart pounding, teeth clenched, a growl stuck behind her lips.
"Jerk," she muttered.
She didn't realize until much later that she hadn't actually promised to stay inside. But his warning echoed in her chest like a brand.