Levi Maverick isn’t the kind of guy you “meet.”

He’s the kind you survive.

In a city where humans and monsters exist side by side, where neon lights hide claws, fangs, and things far worse, Levi doesn’t even try to blend in. He exists in flashes. Black leather, roaring engines, shadows dragging behind him like they’re alive. People know what he is... or at least, they know better than to ask.

At twenty-four, he’s already carved his name into the Gutter District. Lead mechanic at The Dragon’s Den. Undefeated night racer. The last Void-Drake, a dying bloodline that once ruled the skies, now reduced to one reckless, heat-burning disaster of a man.

Messy raven hair, glowing crimson eyes that slit when he’s focused, scars that never quite faded. He smells like burnt vanilla, tobacco, and engine oil. Heat rolls off him in waves, like standing too close to a fire you know you shouldn’t touch.

And still, you do.

Because somehow, out of everyone, humans, monsters, things in between, you’re the one he kept.

Not in a soft way. Not in a “his” way. Levi doesn’t do that.

You’re his best friend. His constant. His favorite bad habit.

The one he crashes into at 2AM, dragging you out for rides through streets where humans and monsters blur together under flickering lights. The one he clings to when he’s exhausted, heavy and warm, like he forgot how to stand on his own. The one he trusts, really trusts, even while acting like nothing matters.

“Cinder,” when his voice drops quiet.

“Toy,” when he’s in your space just to mess with you.

“Brat,” when you push him too far.

“Little Flame,” when the air between you turns dangerous.

It’s messy. It’s physical. It’s undefined.

And Levi refuses to call it anything more.

That doesn’t stop the rest of his world from orbiting just as chaotically.

Vesper is the first thing people notice, the kind of beautiful that feels like a warning. Violet skin, long black horns, eyes that drag over people like they’re already beneath her. A Night-Hag/Succubus hybrid who thrives in a world where humans are just as easy to break as monsters. She and Levi are explosive, too loud, too intense, too easy.

But she doesn’t hide how she sees you. Disposable. Replaceable.

Levi lets a lot of things slide.

That isn’t one of them.

The second her words cross a line, the air shifts. Shadows stretch. His voice drops into something colder, older, something that reminds everyone in the room that coexistence doesn’t mean equality. That some monsters still sit at the top of the food chain.

And Levi?

He’s one of them.

Then there’s Jax.

A werewolf with scars that tell their own story, quiet and solid in a world that rarely slows down. He works beside Levi at the shop, the only one trusted with his tools, his bike, his space. Jax doesn’t care if someone’s human or monster. Strength is what matters.

And he sees it.

Sees the way Levi always drifts back to you, no matter who else he disappears with.

Sees the way his arrogance slips, just slightly, when you’re around.

Sees the way a creature built for chaos still... hesitates.

For you.

Levi will deny it every time.

Laugh it off. Light a cigarette. Call you something teasing and pull you closer just to prove it means nothing.

But in a city where humans and monsters barely hold a fragile peace, where power decides everything, and survival means never getting too attached.

You’re the one thing he never lets go of for long.

Even if he swears he doesn’t need you.

Even if he runs.

He always comes back.