The woods were cold.
Too cold for a child.
A small boy—no more than six—ran barefoot through the trees, stumbling with each frantic step. His pale skin was scraped, his black hair tangled. He clutched his side where a jagged cut oozed red, but he didn't stop. Couldn't.
Stones flew past his head. Some struck. One hit his shoulder, another his cheek.
"Get out, cursed one!"
"You're not one of us!"
"Your mother died 'cause of you!"
The voices echoed—cruel, childish, and filled with hate. Boys his age. Some younger. Some already half-shifted, fangs peeking behind sneers.
A few older vampires stood at a distance, not stopping it. Watching. Amused.
Tears streamed down the boy's face as he ducked behind a tree, gasping, shivering. He hugged his knees to his chest, whispering shakily to himself.
"I didn't kill her... I didn't do anything wrong..."
His voice broke.
Then—
"Levi," a voice called out gently. Calm. Familiar. Deep.
The boy's head snapped up. Through blurred tears, he saw him—tall, powerful, cloaked in black armor lined with crimson. Eyes like fire. Yet soft now.
"Father!" the child cried and ran straight into his arms.
The king of their clan, the vampire lord, knelt and caught his son in a tight embrace.
Levi sobbed into his chest. "They said I'm cursed... that Mother died 'cause of me…"
His father's jaw clenched slightly, but he stroked his hair with a steady hand. "Levi, my son. No vampire female has ever died during childbirth before. Your mother... was the first."
The boy's eyes brimmed again. "But I didn't kill her. I didn't..."
The king's palm rested on his head. Warm. Heavy. Final.
"I know, son. But the world loves to blame the innocent."
He leaned in, voice rough now. "No matter what they say… promise me you'll be strong. For me. For yourself. For your mother. Protect the one you love, even when the world wants you to destroy her."
He gave a small, broken laugh. "Don't be weak like your father."
Levi looked up, confused. "What do you mean?"
But before the king could answer, three figures stepped out of the shadows.
Young faces. Ageless eyes.
Two men. One woman.
Vampire Elders.
They moved without words, their presence heavy. Chains clicked.
Levi watched as they approached his father—no resistance. No fight.
The king knelt, head bowed, neck bound.
"No," Levi whispered, grabbing his father's cloak. "What are you doing?!"
His father turned to him, still smiling despite the metal digging into his skin. "Survive. Avenge me."
The axe came down.
And blood splattered across Levi's face.
---
Alexa shot up in bed, screaming.
Panting. Eyes wide. Sheets tangled.
Her breath came in sharp bursts as her heart thundered. She clutched the blanket, unsure whether she was freezing or burning.
It was a dream.
But it had felt too real.
The pain in that boy's voice… the terror in his eyes…
Her own fingers trembled as she whispered to herself, "Levi…"
Alexa's breath came in sharp bursts.
The dream clung to her like smoke — thick and choking. Her heart raced wildly in her chest, too fast, too loud. She pressed a trembling hand over it, trying to steady herself.
"That boy…" she whispered into the darkness. "He was so scared."
Her throat tightened.
He was Levi.
Not the man she feared. Not the devil who ordered obedience. But a child — alone, hunted, broken. Covered in blood.
She looked down at her hands, still shaking, still cold. She could feel the ache from the dream as if it were her own.
He was hurt.
He's still hurt.
He needs help...
Her breath caught again.
"Maybe he needs someone," she murmured, voice soft like a secret she wasn't sure she should say. "Maybe I was meant to see that. Maybe I'm… here because of him."
The thought chilled her as much as it warmed her. She glanced to the side—
—and there he was.
Levi.
Asleep.
One arm beneath the pillow, the other across his chest. His face calm now, dangerously beautiful in the pale light bleeding through the curtains. But even in sleep, there was something tense in his brow. A shadow under his eyes.
Like even rest didn't save him.
Alexa swallowed hard.
Slowly, gently, her fingers reached out, hesitating in the air for a second before they brushed the sharp edge of his jaw. His skin was warm beneath her touch. Real. Solid. Alive.
Her lips parted as she whispered, "What happened to you, Levi?"
He didn't stir. Just breathed evenly, lips parted slightly.
She traced the line of his cheekbone, barely grazing it. "You were just a little boy... crying for your father."
Her voice cracked, even though she didn't mean it to. "They called you cursed. But you didn't deserve that. You didn't…"
Her hand paused over his lips. Her eyes stung.
"You act like nothing touches you," she whispered, "but something did. Something shattered you."
She stared at him a moment longer.
"You carry so much pain," she breathed. "But you hide it behind power, behind that smile… that cold stare."
She leaned down just slightly, her lips close to his ear. "You don't have to push everyone away."
Her voice softened to almost nothing.
"I'm not trying to fix you. But I see you now."
She pulled back slowly, afraid he might wake. Her fingers slipped away from his face, and she lay there, staring at the ceiling, heart still racing.
And even though she didn't sleep again that night…
She didn't leave his side either.
Because some devils weren't born.
They were made.
And maybe—just maybe—she'd been brought here to remember that.
*****
Morning came quietly.
But not gently.
Alexa stirred under the sheets, her body warm but her thoughts restless. She opened her eyes slowly… and saw him.
Levi.
Already awake.
He sat in the armchair across from the bed, one leg crossed over the other, a curved dagger in hand. He twirled it lightly, studying its gleam as the morning light hit the blade.
His lips were curled into a smirk—sharp, unreadable.
"Can't wait for a demon to taste this," he murmured, his voice low, like he was speaking to the weapon itself.
Alexa sat up slowly. Her voice was soft. "Levi…"
He didn't look up.
"Good morning."
Then she reached out and gently held his hand—the one not holding the dagger.
His smirk vanished.
The temperature in the room dropped just a little.
"Don't think the kiss gives you the right to touch me," he said flatly, his eyes never leaving the blade.
Alexa's hand pulled back instantly. Her gaze dropped. "I know. You don't have to remind me."
Levi set the dagger down with care, the clink of metal against the table sharp and final.
"Then what is this about?" he asked, rising to his feet.
Alexa looked up at him—unsure whether to speak or stay silent. But something burned in her chest. The dream. That little boy. That scream.
Her fingers curled around her own hand, her thumb brushing the faint scar where she'd bled days ago.
"I… I had a dream," she began, voice fragile but honest. "Like I was dreaming of the past. Of—"
Before she could finish, Levi's voice sliced through the air.
"The crystal," he said without emotion. "A metal of memory distortion. It causes past flashbacks—usually from blood contact. That's what it did to you."
He turned away, dismissive. Cold.
"I hope it wasn't some kind of childish dream," he added, his voice like steel. "Because things like that… they don't matter to me."
Alexa didn't answer.
She just sat there, her eyes fixed on the floor, hands clenched in the sheets. The weight of his words sank in deep—but not as deep as the weight of what she saw in that dream.
Levi noticed the silence.
He turned.
Brows slightly furrowed, he looked at her, gaze sharp and unreadable.
"…Seems the dream bothers you a lot," he said finally. One hand reached out, nudging the chair, and he lowered himself onto it with calm authority.
He folded his fingers together. Leaned forward slightly. Focused. Like a king waiting for his subject to speak.
"Tell me," he said. "But be quick."
Alexa looked at him. Long and quiet. Something moved in her eyes.
Then—she shook her head.
"It's nothing," she said softly, turning away.
Levi's gaze darkened slightly. "Nothing?"
"I said it's nothing," she repeated, still facing the window now, not him. "Just a dream. Not important."
Silence hung like a blade between them.
Alexa didn't look back. Her voice dropped low. "You said dreams don't matter to you. So there's no point."
Levi said nothing. But something about the stillness in him… shifted.
Alexa moved slowly to the bed, her back still to him, her breath steadier now. Like she was locking the dream inside her—burying it deep, where it couldn't be torn apart.
And Levi...
He didn't press again.
But behind that unreadable expression, for the first time in a long time…
He wanted to.