Chapter 21 Unwanted Protection
Levi
The scent of wolfsbane still clings to my skin.
It burns even after I’ve cleaned the wound, even after the rain should have washed it away.
Lucas finds me on the warehouse rooftop we use as a watch post. He doesn’t knock, he just kicks the door open and tosses a medical kit onto the table.
“You’re leaking on the floor again,” he says.
“It’s not blood, it’s insurance.”
He glares. “You call bleeding insurance now?”
I don’t answer. My attention is on the street below. Aurora’s building stands quiet, lights shifting as morning turns to day. The twins’ laughter drifts faintly upward.
Lucas follows my gaze and sighs. “You’re still here.”
“I told you I’d keep watch.”
He folds his arms. “Well, that's a first, the Alpha of the Northern Pack turned himself into a stalker with a hero complex.”
I meet his eyes. “If I leave, they die.”
“Or maybe if you stay, they will.”
That stops me.
He steps closer, tone softening. “You think Eldric can’t smell guilt? Every move you make pulls attention. You left the trackers’ ashes in the rain last night. The Council’s hounds are already tracing it.”
I clench my jaw. “They won’t reach her.”
“You don’t get it, Levi. Your protection leaves footprints. The harder you guard her, the easier she is to find.”
Koda snarls inside me, low and dangerous. I push him down and look back at the window where sunlight spills through her curtains.
“I’ll risk it,” I say quietly. “You think I can watch them be hunted?”
Lucas exhales through his teeth. “You’re going to dig a hole deep enough to bury us all.”
“Then start digging one next to me.”
⸻
Aurora
The day pretends to be ordinary.
Sunlight through rain-washed glass, keyboard clicks, children arguing over cereal brands.
But beneath it, the air hums differently.
At work, Warren complains about missing budgets. Maggie texts memes and gossip. The newsroom smells of printer ink and burnt toast. Everything seems normal, almost comforting.
Except every time I walk by a window, I feel it, that prickle at the base of my neck, like someone tracing invisible lines across my skin.
When I step outside for lunch, the sensation follows me.
The world looks brighter, edges sharper, as if the city is holding its breath.
A man bumps into me near the crosswalk, mutters an apology, and moves on. Nothing unusual, except the faint metallic scent he leaves behind. Silver.
My stomach tightens. I glance around. No one’s watching. Still, the hairs on my arms rise.
Something unseen presses back against the air around me, a pulse like static bursting outward.
Then it’s gone.
The stranger disappears into the crowd.
I breathe again and cross the street.
⸻
Levi
Through the vision werewolves are gifted with I see the man brush past her.
The glint of silver at his wrist confirms what I already suspected: another test.
Before I can move, the air ripples around her like heat on pavement. My mark burns, and the man stumbles as though hit by an invisible wall.
He looks confused, frightened, and then bolts into the traffic.
Aurora doesn’t notice; she just keeps walking, one hand pressed to her chest.
Koda rumbles with satisfaction.
She’s learning to protect herself.
“She doesn’t even know she’s doing it.”
Still, she does it.
Maybe that’s worse. Power without awareness draws more predators than fear ever could.
⸻
Aurora
Back at my desk, I try to focus on an article draft. The screen blurs.
When I close my eyes, flashes of last night’s dream return — smoke, rain, and a man’s voice whispering stay inside.
I shake it off, tell myself I’m tired.
Then my phone vibrates.
Unknown Number: Do not walk alone after sunset.
No signature. No number trace. Just words that sound more like a warning than a threat.
I delete it instantly.
But my hands won’t stop shaking.
⸻
Levi
By late afternoon, Lucas finishes patching the last wound on my arm. “You can’t keep doing rooftop patrols.”
“Then send someone who won’t freeze when silver flies.”
“You don’t need soldiers; you need distance.”
I don’t answer. Instead, I watch her emerge from the building with the twins, their small backpacks bouncing. The sight punches air out of my lungs.
“She’s fine,” Lucas says. “Alive. Breathing. Maybe let that be enough for one night.”
“Tell me, Lucas,” I say, voice low, “if it were your mate, if the Council hunted her, would you ever think enough was enough?”
He doesn’t reply. But I know the answer.
I climb down the building before he can.
Aurora
By the time we reach home, the rain starts again — thin needles of water cutting through evening light.
Aria hums her tune; Lior counts thunder.
I unlock the door, glance back once more.
Across the street, a shadow moves — tall, still, too familiar.
My chest tightens, but the next lightning flash reveals nothing. Only the glint of wet glass, an empty corner.
I tell myself I imagined it.
But when we’re inside, I find the tiniest feather on the welcome mat — black tipped with gold.
No bird could’ve left it there.
⸻
Levi
From the alley, I watch her close the door.
For one moment, through the glass, our reflections overlap, hers inside the light, and mine outside it.
Koda quiets finally, a low hum of contentment. They are safe.
“For now,” I whisper.
Lucas' voice crackles through the comlink again, softer this time. “You can’t keep this up forever. This Alpha-Stalker behavior isn't helping.”
“I know.”
“So when does it end?” He asks the same question.
“When she’s no longer a target.”
“And when will that be?”
“Never,” I say, and cut the line.
The rain swallows the city, washing away footprints and blood.
But not the feeling that somewhere beneath all this noise, she knows.
That every time she looks over her shoulder, she’s not afraid.
She’s listening. I know she can feel me.
And like a coward, in the name of protection, I'm keeping my distance... Like always.