The Alpha's Ex Is Back With A Son

Debby’s POV

__________________________________

The train lurched to a stop, brakes screaming like they were pissed off. I gripped the seat, heart hammering as the doors hissed open, letting in a blast of city noise—honks, shouts, the works. This wasn’t just a stop; it was us diving headfirst into a lion’s den. Alpha Damon ran this city, his goons probably already sniffing us out.

My son, Jerry, slouched beside me, his sixteen-year-old frame shaking, not from the chilly platform air but from whatever was eating him up inside.

“Mom, this place is a zoo,” Jerry muttered, tugging his hoodie over his messy hair, eyes darting to the crowd. “We sticking out like sore thumbs or what?”

I forced a grin, trying to keep it light despite the panic clawing my chest. “Nah, we’re just another pair of nobodies. Blend in, kid.” My voice cracked, betraying me. He hadn’t been chatty since that night—the one that turned our lives into a nightmare.

“Come on, Mom, you’re a terrible liar,” he said, a ghost of his old smirk showing up. “You’re freaking out worse than me.”

“Am not,” I shot back, nudging his shoulder. “Just… keep your eyes peeled, okay?” His smirk faded, and those haunted eyes of his locked on mine, stuck on that moment he stabbed a man to save me. I grabbed his hand, squeezing tight, our only anchor in this buzzing station, fear wrapping us like a shroud.

“Where we even going?” Jerry’s voice was low, almost lost in the crowd’s chatter. Hearing him talk at all felt like a win—he’d barely said a word since passing out after the killing. I met his gaze, pushing down the weight of Alpha Damon’s hunt, Jerry’s curse, that blood-soaked memory. “To the only person who can help us now,” I said. “Your father.” The words burned my throat, louder than the station’s chaos. Running from one monster to another—Levin, the man I’d called a devil in lies I’d half-believed.

Every glance from the crowd hit like a jab, screaming at me to bolt. But I couldn’t leave Jerry, not after what he’d done. Two nights ago, in a dark alley, I’d frozen, watching a thug kill for some shiny, weird thing. The killer’s eyes locked on mine, and fear glued my feet down. Then Jerry appeared, stabbing the guy from behind, his fear unleashing the werewolf curse. My son—half-beast—tore into the man until he was a bloody mess. When that creature looked at me, Jerry’s face buried under fur, I couldn’t breathe.

Then it was gone, leaving Jerry blood-soaked, collapsing into my arms. Only a mother’s instinct kept me moving, catching him as he fell. Strange figures snatched the body and vanished. I’m sure Alpha Damon’s men think Jerry stole their prize, and now they want us dead to keep it quiet. Five minutes here felt like years. What if Levin didn’t show? What if he hated me for taking his son?

“Let’s go, Jerry,” I whispered, my voice shaky, fear rolling off me—a scent even Jerry, a werewolf for just two days, could smell. I looked up, and his eyes glowed red, just like in the alley. My hands let go fast.

A cop pushed through the crowd, his black uniform stark in the dim light. My heart pounded. No way. Alpha Damon’s men must think Jerry took their treasure. I’m tied to a murder I can’t explain without risking him. I grabbed Jerry’s hand, moving fast to dodge the cop. A low, familiar voice stopped me. “Debby.” I spun around. Levin stood there, tall and dark, his face blank. My breath caught. “You came yourself?”

“I came for my son.” His eyes flicked to Jerry, lingering a moment. “Let’s go home, kid.” Jerry stiffened, but Levin’s grip was firm, almost cruel, pulling him along.

We slid into a sleek black Porsche outside, the city’s neon lights glinting off it. Silence hung heavy, like fog. To Jerry, Levin’s coldness proved my old warnings about his monstrous side. My head swirled with guilt and questions. Why did I freeze in that alley, watching a thug kill for that object, letting Jerry spill blood to save me? Why didn’t I run? Now Alpha Damon thinks I have their treasure, my son’s a monster, and I’m fleeing the law, unable to explain without losing him. Jail’s not an option.

And Levin—lover, betrayer, my father’s killer—sat beside me, driving so calmly I felt invisible. He hadn’t looked at me once. No anger, no sadness, nothing, though his hands tightened on the wheel when Jerry shifted.

“He’s dead inside,” I muttered. “No, we’re dead.” I corrected myself. “I’m dead, coming back to this cursed city, to this evil man, dragging my son to become a monster.” My chest ached, tears burning. I’ll keep you safe, Jerry, I swore silently. Nothing will hurt you. I blinked hard, refusing to cry in front of this devil.

Returning here with Jerry felt like starting a war. Weakness wasn’t an option. I won’t let you turn him into a monster, Levin, I vowed, my heart hardening. I’ll burn you first.

The Porsche sped through dark streets, headlights cutting the night. Levin’s face stayed blank, like we weren’t there. Spotting a black SUV ahead, he smirked, cranked the music, and floored it. Jerry clutched his ears, the sound splitting his skull as his hypersensitive hearing freaked out, eyes glowing red. “Use these,” Levin said, tossing earbuds back, his tone hiding secrets. “What are those?” I asked, but he didn’t answer. Jerry slipped them on, his hearing calming, eyes normal again.

Levin watched headlights closing in behind us, bullets pinging off the car. He swerved at a T-junction, letting a trailer smash the pursuing SUV. I caught his gaze in the mirror, his smile cold but real. This wasn’t just escape—it was calculated murder. He’s changed; this isn’t my Levin. He’s a psychopath. But for him, this was a message: threaten my family, and you pay in blood.