Levi’s POV:

My head hurts when I wake up, and everything is really fuzzy. I’m in a comfortable bed that smells really clean, and that clues me into knowing that I’m not at home. The digital clock on the nightstand indicates that it’s six in the morning and I sit up groggily. 

Everything from yesterday is blurry. 

I remember getting rejected and apparently I have been single for longer that I thought. I know I went to get a drink, and then I had more than just one drink, if my head pounding is any indicator. I remember some guy taking me out of the bar… and then after that it gets even more blurry. 

I’m pretty sure I passed out and I know I saw the two weird guys from the jewelry store. No, I definitely saw them… I think I yelled at them and then I passed out again. 

Why would they bring me to an unfamiliar place? Is this their house?

My cell phone is thankfully on the nightstand, and I know that, with my shift starting at seven, I am not going to be able to make it in today. Plus, I could be a hostage right now. Then again, usually hostages aren’t allowed to have their phones. 

I dial my manager’s number, and he answers on the first ring. “Hi, Fredi,” I say, and he hums in acknowledgment. “I’m so sorry, but I won’t be in today. I’m feeling pretty sick.”

“It is alright, Levi,” Fredi says in his thick, Italian accent. “We will manage, make sure to take care of yourself!”

With that, he hangs up and I lay my head back on the pillow. It’s quiet in this house, and I want to investigate, but I’m also nervous. I don’t remember getting here and I certainly have no clue how to navigate this place, but it seems big. What if someone catches me snooping around?

I walk into the attached bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. I look horrible; there are ugly bags under my eyes, my cheeks are red and I must have puked based on the bumpy, popped blood vessels. My hair is a greasy mess, and I feel like this is me at rock bottom. 

There is a towel hung up and tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner in the shower. The people who live here- weird or not -are definitely wealthy. They must be if they can treat a random guest room like a hotel room. Since the stuff is here anyway and they brought me here without my permission, I’m going to use their damn towels and soap so I look less like… well, this version of myself. 

The shower is made of dark marble tile and the entire ambiance is a tranquil, dark vibe. It’s relaxing to spend time in here, and I guess relaxing before I find out if I’m in danger or not is a good idea. The shower is nice, and the filth from yesterday seems to slide off and slip down the drain as I stand under the water. 

The soap smells like apples. Being in a clean bathroom overwhelms me a bit because my apartment is disgusting. It has trash everywhere, it’s cluttered, and I wish I could get it together enough in order to be able to organize my life, but I just feel helpless. 

My head is throbbing, but the shower lessens it a bit. I will definitely need an Advil, though. Once I’m fully cleaned up, I dry myself off and look in the mirror at my face. My eye bags are still there and I don’t look well, but I don’t smell bad anymore. 

I pick up the clothes that I had on, and they are definitely not mine. Maybe they belong to one of the two jewelry store guys. They smell nice, but they have that strong, masculine scent that makes me know that men live here. Fuck, I wish I could recall everything that happened yesterday, but between the depression and the drinks… I’m not going to remember anything past the snapshots in my mind.

Once I’m dried off, I put the clothes back on. I’m curious about this place, and it’s quite early, so investigating sounds like the best plan for now. Besides, there’s no TV in this room and my phone is the old kind that has no games or anything anyway. 

I sneak out of the room, gently closing the door behind me. As soon as I’m in the hallway, I can tell that this place is huge. The long hallway where the room that I slept in leads to the kitchen and living area, both of which are in open space. There’s a big back patio that leads out of the living area and a dining room that is through a large opening from the living room. I can tell that there is more down another hallway and there is also a spiral staircase closer to the entryway, so there must be more upstairs. 

“How is your head?” a voice asks, making me jump. 

At the kitchen bar is a man with dark bronze skin, short hair that is almost shaved to the scalp, and he has a huge tattoo covering most of his shoulder, which is easy to see because he isn’t wearing a shirt. He has a mug of coffee in front of him, as the room smells like coffee and something sweet. He also has a newspaper sitting before him.

“Hello?” the man asks, sounding annoyed. “Your head?” 

“Oh, uh, it’s okay,” I say, slowly approaching him. “Uh… where am I?”

He glances at me, looking away from his newspaper. “How much do you remember, Levi?”

“I went to a bar, some guy got me to leave, and then I passed out. I don’t remember much about coming here, but I know I was approached by two guys I met yesterday… Do they live here? One of them owns a jewelry store?”

The guy ignores my question. “Do you remember my name?” he asks. 

“No.”

“Hm, you were quite intoxicated so I am not that surprised. My name is Paxton, and the two jewelers who you speak of do live here. You threw a lamp at Elijah.”

I frown. “Did he deserve it?” I ask. “I’m not violent, so if I did that, I must have had a reason.”

“I just made sure you were put in a guest room so you did not cause any more drunken chaos. You can talk to Elijah and Greyson yourself.”

I shake my head. “I’d like to go home.”

“You can wait until after you talk with them,” Paxton says, and he has that firm tone that leaves no room for argument. “Now, would you like coffee? Something to eat?”

I look toward the front door. 

“Please do not try it,” Paxton says, clearly annoyed. “Our house is an hour walk from the city and there are no houses around us. I do not want to waste my morning chasing you through the woods.”

“Am I being held hostage here?” I ask. 

Paxton purses his lips. “I would say so, yes. Until you have spoken with Elijah and Greyson, that is.”

I huff and walk over to the already brewed coffee and open cabinets until I find one that has coffee mugs in it. I pour myself a mug and open the fridge, pleased to find creamer inside. I can feel Paxton’s eyes on my back the whole time.

I am rarely this forward, especially in a stranger’s house, but apparently I’m a hostage and I left my phone in the room I slept in. Even if I called the police, there is a strange vibe in this house and I feel like they’d get away with holding me here. There is something off about the people here. 

“Are you hungry? There is stuff in the fridge or the pantry, while you are helping yourself to everything,” Paxton deadpans. “Do not open the mini fridge in the pantry, it is Kayden’s personal fridge.”

The name Kayden sounds familiar, but I can’t pinpoint it.

“Kayden is the soulmate of the man who put you to sleep last night.” Paxton must have seen the confusion on my face; he seems to pick up on things really quick. 

“I understand all of those words, but I genuinely have no idea what you just said.”

Paxton raises an eyebrow. “Oh, how do I put this so you understand?” he asks himself, looking frustrated and annoyed, likely with me despite me having no way to understand what his jumble of words mean. “Kayden is Simon’s soulmate. Soulmate being someone who is meant to be with you for life. Simon, who used his powers to put you to sleep because you were a mess.”

“Powers?” 

“Oh, Alastor, help me,” Paxton murmurs, sipping from his coffee cup. “Humans are quite slow.”

I am growing more and more confused every second that this guy talks. I enter the pantry and grab a package of strawberry pop tarts and put the two in the toaster oven that sits on the counter. As I wait for them to bake, I sip my coffee and watch Paxton look at his newspaper. 

When the timer on the toaster oven dings, I open it and then freeze. 

“Uh… do you have oven mitts? Or something to get these out?” I ask Paxton. 

He looks up and slides off his chair with a small sigh. Of course, I’m expecting him to get me oven mitts or something, but Paxton just reaches in and grabs them without panicking. When I look at his hands, I falter. They’re dark gray with purple streaks running across the limb where his veins should be. 

I back up, my eyes locked on his hand that definitely was not that color five seconds ago. “What the fuck?” I ask, my heart rate picking up and my throat feeling constricted. “How… Please tell me I’m just seeing things.”

Paxton puts the pastries on a plate. “My hand?” he asks nonchalantly, as if it isn’t a big deal that his hand just changed colors and reached into a tiny oven without flinching!

I nod shakily.

“Well, if I kept it in its human form then I would be in pain,” he says in a plain voice, his hand going back to its normal bronze tone. “Just relax, you are not in danger. Elijah and Greyson will want to explain it all at once, so please do not waste my time with stupid questions. Now, there is Advil in that cabinet in the corner, so take a couple and then sit down so you can eat.”

I follow his words, but I know there is likely a look of pure terror on my face. It’s not like it’s bothering Paxton though; he seems to have finished reading the paper and has moved to the crossword. 

“PAXTON!!!” a shrill voice screams, making me jump and knock my mug of coffee onto the floor. 

It shatters and a wave of fear and embarrassment crashes over me. I stare at the mess of coffee on the floor and on the cabinets. Tears spring in my eyes and my heart is pounding; I feel so nauseous right now.

“Fuck, Lexi, don’t screech like that!” Paxton scolds. “Levi, are you alright? Did you get cut?”

I can’t help the sob that slips from my mouth; tears are already falling down my cheeks as shaky cries burst from my throat. I sound like a disgusting, wounded animal, and I can feel eyes on me. 

“Oh… I didn’t mean to startle him,” the voice that made me knock the mug to the floor says. “Uh… sorry.”

“There’s coffee on his pants,” Paxton says, but he sounds sad as opposed to annoyed. “Lexi, take him to your room and get him a pair of pants. You two are similar in size.”

 I feel a hand grab my wrist and I flinch, tearing my arm from his grip. 

“Sorry,” Lexi says, holding out his hand so I can choose to take it. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I don’t take his hand, still crying to myself. 

“You can just follow me, I guess,” Lexi mumbles, handing me a paper towel. “I really didn’t try to scare you, I promise.”

I’m still fixated on the floor. “But I broke-”

“Go with Lexi,” Paxton orders, and I glance at him and notice he has one of those Swiffer mops. “I’ll clean it up. You are still a bit hungover and your mental state is not stable enough at this moment. I can clean this up, you need pants that are not covered in coffee.”

I don’t like feeling like I owe people things. 

“But you didn’t make the mess,” I weakly argue, my voice crackly from crying. 

Paxton offers me the first smile I’ve seen from him. “Levi, you may not fully understand now, but the inhabitants of this home all see each other as a big, chaotic family. You are part of it, but that full explanation will come later. As someone who cares about the members of my family, I can tell that you are not in a healthy mental state and you need to disconnect from this little mess. I am perfectly capable of cleaning it up, as your health is more important than my crossword puzzle.”

I don’t know how to process some of what he says, but he nods to where Lexi seems to be waiting for me, a nervous expression on his face. Even though I still feel like I should be here, cleaning up my mess so I don’t get into trouble, but Paxton doesn’t seem to be upset with me. 

I reluctantly follow Lexi back down one of the many hallways while Paxton’s words and the things I saw this morning still brewing in my mind.