Chapter 19 The Man In The Rain
Levi:
Rain has a way of hiding everything.
Sins. Footsteps. The smell of blood.
But it can’t hide her scent, or theirs.
It’s faint in the air, threaded through wet asphalt and coffee grounds, the same mixture that has haunted me since the night I left her. It clings to me no matter how far I drive.
Aurora Anderson.
I still remember the way her name sounded that night when I said it. A promise. Then a mistake.
The phone sits on the passenger seat, screen dark. No reply.
I shouldn’t have texted her at all.
I only want to know they’re safe.
The words look pathetic now. Weak. A man like me doesn’t beg, doesn’t reach out to the woman he broke for the sake of her safety.
And yet I did.
Because for the first time in years, I don’t know if “safe” is even possible anymore.
Lucas' voice crackles through the earpiece.
“You still in the city?”
“I never left.”
“Should I send a sweep?”
“Not yet.”
“You’re watching them again.”
The accusation isn’t wrong, but I don’t answer.
He sighs. “You’re going to get caught one of these nights. Then what?”
“I’ll deal with it.”
“She’ll hate you more.”
“Good,” I say quietly. “Hate keeps her alive.”
Lucas mutters something about insanity and cuts the line.
I step out of the car, coat pulled tight against the rain. The air tastes of ozone and fear, not mine, someone else’s. I follow it through the alley until I find silver residue near a drainpipe. Fresh.
Trackers again.
Three in two days. The Council is getting desperate. Eldric wants proof that there is no loose end. That there's no threat to the power, the council holds, in the form of Luna bond. He can’t find what he doesn’t understand; that no rejection, no spell, no distance ever killed it completely, and I am starting to suspect nothing ever will.
I crouch beside the burn mark, fingertips grazing the ash. The faint hum of power still lingers, sharp as a memory.
They were close.
Koda growls in my head, facing restlessly.
Too close.
A sound breaks through the rain, laughter.
Soft, childlike.
I look up.
Aurora’s balcony light flickers through the mist. For a moment, I see her silhouette pass behind the curtains. Then smaller shapes. The twins.
Lior runs, his energy pure mischief even from here. Aria twirls near the window, the same graceful defiance her mother always carried.
My heart does something painful and human.
I shouldn’t be here.
But I can’t leave.
Koda growls low in my mind.
We should go to them.
No.
The little one sees us.
“She shouldn’t,” I whisper. “Not yet.”
But I know he’s right. The girl’s awareness isn’t ordinary. She carries the bond’s magic stronger than even Aurora.
Aria turns toward the window, as if hearing my thoughts. For one heartbeat, she presses her hand to the glass, a mirror image of that night weeks ago.
The air tightens. My mark burns faintly beneath my shirt.
I step back into the shadows, chest heavy. “You shouldn’t see me,” I murmur. “Not like this.”
But then she smiles, looking exactly where I'm hiding in the shadows.
I don't breathe or move at all.
Just then, the rain intensifies. A storm is moving in from the bay.
I make it to the opposite rooftop before lightning splits the clouds. The entire block glows for half a second, and I catch a glimpse of movement near her street.
Two figures
One human, one not.
Hunters.
Both dead. Koda growls
They both will be.
They move with the stiff, controlled rhythm of trained killers. The Council must have doubled its efforts.
I move faster, leaping the gap between buildings, boots landing silently against concrete slick with rain. By the time they reach the alley behind Aurora’s building, I’m already there.
The first one doesn’t even see me. My hand slams him against the wall, claws slicing through his throat before he can shout. The second one manages to draw his silver knife, but bad luck for him, I’m faster.
Steel meets bone. The blade sinks into my shoulder, burning cold. I twist, ignoring the pain, and snap his neck.
The scent of silver singes the air. I rip the knife out, toss it into the gutter, and watch it vanish under the current.
Pain flares bright and sharp, but it fades quickly. I’ve been through worse.
What matters is that Aurora and the twins never know.
They’re safe.
For tonight. Koda mumbles and goes to the darkest crevices of my head
Hours later, I’m still on the roof, bleeding into the rain, watching her apartment. Anything silver or silver-laced can slow down our naturally quick healing. I could have contacted s healer and taken some potion, but the pain felt like a badge of honor that I was the protector of what truly mattered to me, or penance, or both.
The curtains are drawn. The faint hum of a cartoon theme song seeps through the night.
She doesn’t know I’m here.
She doesn’t know how close danger came.
She doesn’t know I’m bleeding because I couldn’t stay away.
The phone buzzes again.
Another message, from Lucas this time.
Lucas: The Council’s pushing. Eldric asked for a meeting. He suspects you’re hiding something.
Me: Let him suspect. I’m done taking orders.
Lucas: And her?
Me: She doesn’t know anything. Keep it that way.
Lucas: For how long?
I don’t answer.
Because I don’t know.
When I finally move, the wound has stopped bleeding. I pull the hood lower, slipping back into the maze of wet streets. My reflection flashes briefly in a puddle, eyes glowing faint gold in the lamplight.
I catch a whisper in my head. Not Koda this time.
Something softer.
Safe.
Her voice.
My breath stops. The bond’s pulse ripples faintly through me, not strong enough to hurt, just enough to remind me it’s still alive.
Maybe she felt me tonight. Maybe not.
Either way, I’ll be here again tomorrow.
Not because I should.
But because I can’t do anything else.
As the sky lightens, I catch one last glimpse of Aurora through the kitchen window. She’s leaning against the counter, mug in hand, eyes distant, as if listening to something only she can hear.
For a second, I let myself imagine it, walking up those stairs, knocking once, watching her face when she opens the door.
But imagination is a luxury. Reality is duty.
I turn away before she sees me.
The rain keeps falling. The world keeps turning.
And somewhere behind those glass walls, Aurora is dreaming of ghosts, of wolves, of me.