Chapter 21: "I’ve Changed"

Levi woke to the sound of hangers sliding on a rail. For a disoriented second he thought he was still dreaming, then the weight in his limbs reminded him that dreams were a luxury the suppressants did not permit. His eyes opened.

Three servants moved through the room with an efficiency he was yet to master. One was unpacking garments from a trunk he had never seen before—fabrics that looked like they cost more than his entire previous existence. Another was arranging shoes at the foot of a wardrobe that had been empty yesterday. A third set a tray on the bedside table: covered dishes, a small pot, and a single porcelain cup of tea that was still steaming.

Levi’s first coherent thought was, I am either being upgraded or prepared for slaughter. In this house those two options are not mutually exclusive.

His second thought was the sharp, unmistakable scent rising from the cup. Suppressants. Diluted and sweetened, dressed up in whatever expensive leaves they used to hide the bitterness, but still there.

He pushed himself up against the pillows, determined to figure out what was happening and why they were in his room. The servants glanced at him, then away, the way people looked at furniture that had inconveniently developed a pulse.

Levi opened his mouth to ask what the hell was going on, but he never got the chance.

The door opened without a knock and Elvis stepped inside.

The servants froze for half a second, then resumed their tasks with even greater focus, as if becoming invisible might protect them from whatever was about to happen. Levi’s body went rigid. The older Alpha looked rested, immaculately dressed, and entirely too comfortable in a room that did not belong to him. His gaze moved over Levi, then to the servants who were doing their job, then back to Levi again.

"What are you doing here?" Levi asked the moment he was able to regain his composure.

Elvis smiled, the same smile that had once made younger Levi’s stomach flip, but now made it made him feel sick. "Good morning to you too." He nodded to the servants. "Out. All of you."

They vanished with impressive speed, closing the door behind them and suddenly making Levi feel trapped with a monster.

Elvis walked closer, surveying the open wardrobe with mild approval. "The Alpha has granted me a week’s stay. Officially to finalize certain discussions regarding the blood debt and inter-pack relations. Unofficially..." His eyes returned to Levi. "...I intend to use the time productively. Starting with making you look like someone who belongs in rooms like this instead of under them."

Levi let out a short, incredulous breath. "You’re filling a slave’s wardrobe. That’s adorable. Should I wear the silk while I scrub the floors, or save it for special occasions like being threatened with death?"

"You won’t be scrubbing floors while I’m here."

"Oh good. A temporary promotion. Do I get a certificate?"

Elvis’s smile tightened by a fraction, but he kept the pleasant tone. "And after I’m gone, I will find a way to change the Alpha’s mind permanently. You’re not staying in this house as property. Not if I have any say."

He sat on the edge of the bed without asking, and seeing him on the same bed with himself brought back both pleasant and unpleasant memories. Elvis was good in bed, that much Levi couldn’t deny. He remembered their nights all too well, but he also remembered times when the Alpha got violent and forced him to...

Elvis picked up the teacup, the small noise suddenly distracting Levi from his thoughts.

"Drink."

Levi stared at the cup, and a sudden wave of nausea hit him. He had barely recovered from yesterday’s dose, he wasn’t sure he was ready for another dose. "I’m not thirsty."

"It wasn’t a request." Elvis’s voice remained light, but the edge underneath it was familiar. "The sooner these bonds are starved out of you, the sooner I can remove you from this place and the three princes who think a Goddess’s joke gives them rights. Then we can live the way we used to. Properly. Without interruptions."

Levi’s fingers stayed where they were on the sheet, irritated by both the tea and what he had just heard.

"The way we used to," he repeated. "You mean the version where I needed permission to speak to other people, or the version where I got locked in a room for two days as a teaching moment? I want to make sure I’m nostalgic for the correct era."

Something flickered across Elvis’s face—too fast to name. Then the smile returned, softer, almost wounded.

"I’ve changed, Levi." He shifted closer, the cup still held between them. "I was young. Possessive in the wrong ways. I know what I cost us. This—" he gestured vaguely at the room, the clothes, the entire situation "—is me fixing it. Taking you out of a cage you never deserved. Unless you’d rather stay here and let three Alphas who already treat you like a shared problem finish deciding your future?"

Levi met his eyes, unsure if he was being brave or just stupid.

"And if I don’t want to leave with you?"

Elvis chuckled, low and genuinely amused, as if the question were charmingly absurd. "Then I’d have to assume the drugs have already damaged your ability to think. No one in their right mind chooses to remain a slave when freedom is offered.." He tilted his head. "If this is about our past, I’ve already said I’ve changed. I won’t be that man again. You have my word."

He set the teacup down on the tray with deliberate care—and then leaned in.

Levi saw the intention a second before it happened. Elvis’s hand rose toward his face, fingers aiming to cup his jaw the way they used to, mouth already angling for a kiss that was supposed to seal the promise. The older Alpha’s scent wrapped around him, dominant and familiar and trying to rewrite the years in a single gesture.

Levi pulled back hard enough that his shoulders hit the headboard.

"Compose yourself," he said, voice sharper than he expected. "This isn’t your bed. And I’m not yours to kiss because you decided to play savior for a week."

The change in Elvis was subtle but immediate. The softness in his expression cooled. His hand hovered in the air for a fraction of a second longer than it should have, fingers slightly curled, before he withdrew it and sat back. The smile he put on afterward was perfect, and did not reach his eyes.

"Of course," he said smoothly. "You’re still recovering. I overstepped. Forgive me."

He stood in one fluid motion, smoothed an invisible crease from his jacket, and looked down at Levi with the same pleasant attention one might give a skittish animal that had almost bitten.

"Eat what’s on the tray. Drink the tea, slowly if you must, but drink it. Then get dressed in something that isn’t borrowed sleep clothes. We’re going for a walk this morning. Fresh air will do you good, and I intend to show the household that you are under my temporary protection. It will make certain... parties think twice before causing more scenes."

Levi remained pressed against the headboard, heart beating too fast, and his throat suddenly too dry to form words.

Elvis walked to the door, then paused with his hand on the latch.

"I’ll return in an hour," he said. "Be ready. And Levi?" He glanced back, the smile still in place. "I meant what I said. I have changed. The sooner you let yourself believe that, the easier this will be for both of us."

With that, he walked out the room, and gently closed the door behind him.

Levi sat in the sudden quiet, staring at the cup of laced tea, and thought that the most dangerous people in this house were no longer only the ones who openly wanted him dead or claimed.

Some of them wanted to save him. And that, somehow, felt worse.