Chapter 24 The Warning
Levi:
The storm never really leaves this city.
It just changes shape: sometimes rain, sometimes silence, sometimes the kind of dread that settles behind your ribs and refuses to move. Even when the streets are dry, you can feel it in the air, waiting for a reason to return.
I haven’t slept since I saw her.
Her voice, her anger, the way her eyes still burned even through the rain, it all keeps looping in my head. Four years, and nothing has changed.
Except everything has.
The warehouse still smells of oil, gunmetal, and damp concrete, but tonight the scent feels heavier, like the building itself remembers too much. Lucas waits near the old map table, boots kicked up, two files spread in front of him. He doesn’t bother with greetings.
“You’re bleeding again,” he says without looking up.
“Just silver residue. It’ll fade.”
He raises an eyebrow. “So will your brain, if you keep ignoring it.”
I ignore the jab and glance at the papers. “What did you find?”
He pushes a file across the table. Inside are photos, Council seals, surveillance stills, and a map of Seattle with three red circles drawn around Aurora’s neighborhood. The ink bleeds slightly, like the city itself is trying to warn me.
“They know,” he says simply.
The words land like ice. “How close?”
“Closer than comfort,” he replies. “Two trackers were spotted near her office last night. Another near the school the twins attend.”
My hand tightens around the file. “She works in a public building. They can’t risk exposure.”
“They don’t care about exposure anymore,” he replies flatly. “Eldric wants results. He thinks the Luna bloodline survived, and he’s desperate to prove it before the next assembly.”
Koda growls low in my chest, restless under my skin. He’ll go after them. He always does when he smells fear tied to her name.
“He won’t touch them,” I mutter.
Lucas sighs. “You keep saying that like you can control him. You forget he’s the chancellor of the werewolf Council. He has half the Council eating from his hand.”
“Then I’ll break his hand.”
“Levi…”
I cut him off, my voice sharp enough to draw fresh air from the room. “I’m done with the title. I’m not the Alpha who followed the Council’s every rule.”
Lucas studies me for a long moment, his gaze like a scale weighing the cost of loyalty. Finally, he nods slowly. “Maybe. But you still have responsibilities. Think of your pack, your people.”
I stare at the map again, at the small circle drawn around her street, my heartbeat syncing with the rain tapping the glass. “What do you suggest?”
“I suggest we move her. Get her and the kids out before the Council tightens its net.”
“She won’t go.”
“Then convince her.”
“She won’t listen.”
He meets my eyes. “Then give her a reason to.”
I look up, voice rough. “You mean lie to her again?”
He hesitates. The answer is in his silence. “Call it what you want,” he says finally. “Just keep her breathing.”
The rain thickens again, turning the city into a smear of reflected light and steel. Lucas stands, pulling a folded envelope from his jacket.
“What’s that?”
“A contract,” he says. “Eldric’s marriage arrangement. He’s finalizing the alliance with Senator Michelsen’s daughter next week. Guess who the groom is supposed to be.”
My jaw locks. “No.”
“Oh, yes. The Council thinks a political bond will prove your loyalty. They’re calling it a unity clause.”
I tear the envelope open. Inside is a single sheet of ornate parchment, Council seal pressed deep into the paper, my name etched beside the words Levi Kingston, Heir of the Northern Bloodline. The ink glints faintly, mocking me.
I laugh once, humorless. “So that’s their game. Marry me off to human politics while they hunt my real family.”
Lucas nods grimly. “It buys them power. And if you refuse, they’ll use it as proof that you’re compromised.”
“Which means they’ll come for Aurora harder.”
“Exactly. They’ll make examples of anyone tied to you.”
The pieces start clicking together, ugly and inevitable.
A fake marriage to protect a real secret.
A Council desperate for control.
A woman I can’t lose again.
“Then we turn it,” I say finally.
“Turn it how?”
“If they want a contract, they’ll get one.”
He frowns. “I’m listening.”
“I’ll make my own.”
Lucas narrows his eyes. “You mean with her.”
“Yes.”
He crosses his arms, studying me. “That’s insane.”
“It’s survival.”
“She hates you.”
“I don’t need her love,” I murmur. “I need her trust... for ninety days.”
He leans back, expression unreadable. “And you think she’ll agree?”
“She doesn’t have a choice,” I answer quietly. “Not anymore.”
For a while, no one speaks. The city hums beyond the cracked windows, restless, like it senses the storm brewing behind closed doors. When Lucas finally leaves, he doesn’t say goodbye. He just pulls his jacket tighter and disappears into the rain.
Hours later, I’m still pacing. The file on the table glows faintly under the low light, photos of Council sigils, coded notes, and the parchment of that damned alliance. Every page feels heavier now, soaked in threat.
The thought of Aurora bound by their politics makes my skin crawl.
If they reach her, they’ll twist her into a weapon she doesn’t understand. I can already imagine the way she’d look at me, angry, betrayed, but still burning bright.
Koda growls deep inside me. You should mark her again. Claim what’s ours.
“I can’t,” I whisper. “She’d never forgive me.”
Then protect her another way.
The idea solidifies, ugly, brilliant, but inevitable.
A contract.
Not a mating bond, not a marriage of love.
A shield.
She’ll hate it. She’ll hate me. But at least she’ll breathe.
When dawn breaks, the rain has stopped, leaving the city raw and gleaming, smoke curling from the chimneys, puddles reflecting fractured light. I walk to the edge of the rooftop and watch the first blush of sunlight catch on the Sound. The storm clouds linger, bruised and waiting.
Somewhere out there, Aurora is waking up to another ordinary day, coffee, deadlines, and the twins fighting over breakfast. She doesn’t know the world is shifting under her feet.
My phone buzzes on the concrete beside me.
A text from Lucas.
Eldric moves tonight. The trackers are regrouping near the waterfront. You’ve got twelve hours.
I pocket the phone, eyes fixed on the horizon. “Twelve hours,” I murmur. “Then the game changes.”
Koda hums in approval, low and satisfied. And she becomes ours again.
“Not ours,” I correct softly. “Protected.”
The wolf laughs quietly, a sound that feels too close to the truth.
Keep lying to yourself, Alpha.
I ignore him and watch the sunlight crawl higher, cutting through the mist, through the city that never sleeps, a city about to become a battlefield.
By nightfall, she’ll have my offer.
Ninety days under my name.
Ninety days under my protection.
Ninety days to survive.
After that... whatever happens, happens.