Chapter 3: The Three Brothers

Levi kept his eyes lowered, staring at the damp line of Aaron’s collarbone and the dark towel that hung too low on his hips. The second son’s scent was everywhere now, warm, heavy, threaded with something clean and sharp underneath. It pressed against Levi’s skin like heat. His own scent had gone thin and sour with fear. He could smell it. He knew Aaron could smell it too.

"Levi," he finally answered, his voice trembling a little. "Levi Hill. I’m... the payment. From the Hill family. For the blood debt."

Aaron did not move back.

He stood close enough that the heat of his bare chest bled through the narrow space between them. Close enough that Levi could see the water still trailing down the side of his neck and disappearing into the towel. The alpha’s gaze moved over his face with slow, unhurried interest, then dropped to the pulse jumping in his throat, then lower, taking in the way Levi’s shoulders had drawn in and the way his hands had flattened against the stone wall as if he needed it to stay upright.

"Levi Hill," Aaron repeated, tasting the name. His tone stayed mild. "So you’re the one they sent."

He leaned in a fraction more. Not enough to touch, but enough that Levi felt the shift in the air and the quiet threat of how easily that distance could disappear. Aaron’s head tilted slightly as he drew in a deeper breath, scenting him without shame.

"You smell terrified," he observed. There was no mockery in it. "And small. My father said they offered something of equal value." His eyes flicked over Levi again, from the top of his head to the worn shoes on his feet. "You don’t look equal to much."

Levi’s throat worked. He said nothing, he simply swallowed and hoped that this encounter would end sooner than later.

Aaron’s mouth curved, but it wasn’t a smile. He clicked his tongue once, soft. "No wonder my father looked so disappointed."

He still did not step back.

The bathroom felt smaller by the second. Steam clung to the air. Levi could feel every inch of the space Aaron deliberately refused to give him. His omega instincts were screaming at him to tilt his head, to make apologize or just say something submissive just to get out of there.

Aaron watched the struggle with faint, detached interest.

"You’re trying very hard not to submit," he said. "It’s almost entertaining." He finally lifted one hand and braced it against the wall beside Levi’s head, caging him in more completely without quite touching. "Listen carefully, Levi Hill. You are in my bathroom. You are in my space. The only reason you are still standing here instead of on the floor is because I haven’t decided you’re worth the effort of putting there."

Levi’s breath had gone shallow. He could feel the edge of Aaron’s towel brush his own clothes when the alpha shifted his weight.

"I was told to prepare the bath," Levi managed. "I was told to leave before you returned."

"And yet here you are." Aaron’s voice dropped a fraction. "Still here. Still smelling like prey." He held the silence for another long beat, long enough that Levi’s pulse became a roar in his own ears. Then, almost lazily, Aaron pushed off the wall and took a single step back.

"Get out," Aaron said. The mildness was gone, and Levi didn’t need a soothsayer to tell him the Alpha wasn’t playing around. "And next time, be finished before I walk through the door. I dislike finding strangers in my rooms."

Levi did not need to be told twice.

He slid sideways along the wall, giving Aaron as wide a berth as the space allowed, and reached for the door with hands that were no longer steady. Aaron watched him the entire way, eyes half-lidded, towel still hanging low. He looked entirely at ease, and like he had already forgotten why Levi mattered.

Levi pulled the door open and stepped into the corridor as if the air outside might save him.

It did not.

The family wing felt too quiet after the thick heat of the bathroom. Aaron’s scent clung to him, to his clothes, to his skin, to the inside of his mouth. He could still feel the ghost of that near-touch against his front. His legs were not entirely reliable. He put one hand to the wall and forced himself to walk, counting doors the way the map had shown him, trying to put distance between himself and the bathroom before his composure cracked completely.

He did not hear the other set of footsteps until it was too late.

He turned the corner too fast and collided hard with someone coming the opposite way.

The impact knocked the air from his lungs. Soft fabric. A lighter frame than Aaron’s. Silver hair flashed in his vision as they both staggered. Levi’s back hit the wall for the second time that morning.

"I’m sorry—" he started, the apology automatic and breathless.

The boy in front of him was roughly his own height and age. Silver hair fell in loose waves around a face that should have looked gentle. Fine-boned. Almost delicate. Pretty in a way that made something in Levi’s chest hitch with misplaced relief for half a second.

Then the boy’s eyes met his, and the relief died instantly.

Whatever softness lived in that face did not reach the stare fixed on him now. It was cold, precise, and venomous. The aura that rolled off the silver-haired boy was worse than Kai’s boredom and worse than Aaron’s heavy dominance. It was the kind of quiet that came after something had already been decided. The kind that did not need volume to feel like a threat.

This was Dexter, the third son.

Levi knew it the way prey knew a different kind of predator.

The boy’s gaze flicked over him once, over the lingering scent of Aaron still wrapped around him, over the fear still pouring off his skin, over the way he had frozen like something caught. Whatever he saw there made his mouth tighten.

He did not speak.

He simply stepped forward, set one hand against Levi’s shoulder, and shoved.

It was not a hard shove. It did not need to be. The precision of it sent Levi stumbling sideways into the wall again, hard enough that his shoulder protested. By the time he caught his balance, the silver-haired boy had already walked past him without a backward glance.

Levi stayed where he was, palm flat against the cool stone, heart slamming against his ribs hard enough to hurt.

He had been in the Alpha’s house for less than a day, and every brother had looked at him, and he could tell without a doubt that none of them liked him.