Claws and Cartels Chapter 4

Title: The Whisper Of Lykaon

Levin's POV

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I held Jerry tighter, his trembling slowing steadily until the sharp edges of his claws vanished. His breathing steadied against my chest, but Debby’s eyes never left me. She remained wary, arms half-stretched as if I might drop him. As if he wasn’t my son too. The weight of her stare was too heavy to bear. For one bitter second, I felt like a stranger in my own home.

When Debby carried Jerry off to her room, leaving the maids to clean the shattered glass, I stayed behind, restless. My chest still hadn’t stopped pounding. Jerry’s surge of strength was wrong—too much, too sudden. I’ve fought seasoned warriors who couldn’t command that kind of force, and Jerry wasn’t even fully shifted.

What struck me wasn’t just his power, but the way Debby had calmed him. Fragile as she looked, she’d grounded him in seconds, holding him without flinching. It shouldn’t have been possible. If I hadn’t seen it myself, I would never have believed it.

There was only one explanation: their bond was stronger than I realized, strong enough to anchor his wolf back to humanity.

The memory of Jerry lunging at me earlier was still fresh. The way his wolf shielded Debby was proof enough. If I had walked into that room alone, the outcome would’ve been very different—and not in my favor. If I hurt him, Debby would use it to keep him far from me. But if he hurt me…

Guilt twisted inside me. The way I handled things back there was unacceptable.

I was standing outside Debby’s door, my knock way softer than intended—shy, reluctant and uncertain.

The door creaked open. Debby’s face was a mixture of anger and something else—surprise. Her scent was sharp, unwelcoming: You don’t belong here.

“Debby,” I said, my voice lower than intended. “We need to talk.” "In my room.” I added

She hesitated, eyes narrowing, but she followed me eventually.

The moment we stepped into my room, I felt a usual comfort. This had been my world since Debby left my sanctuary. Too many decisions I've taken here, too many prayers whispered in silence-answered.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I told her, closing the door behind us.

I crossed to the bar, poured myself a glass of wine, coffee for Debby—as always. The silence between us was thick, oppressive.

“About Jerry,” I began, turning with both glasses in hand. “About us—”

Her voice cut through mine like a blade. “What’s happening to him, Levin? Skip the chit-chat and get to the point.”

Her demand cut deeper than a blade. She wasn’t asking; she was commanding.

“Debby, he needs guidance. My guidance. That boy carries more fire than he knows. If you keep shielding him—”

“I’m not shielding him,” she snapped, standing now, shoulders squared. “I’m protecting him…”

From who? I shot back, feigning ignorance.

“From you. From all of this!” she yelled.

I stepped closer, careful now with my tone. The heat between us was more than I’d hoped for. If I wanted progress tonight, I needed to reshape it. “He’s my son too,” I said quietly.

Her eyes burned, but pain flickered behind them. “Then act like it.”

Her words pierced me. But deeper than her accusations was Damon’s threat, still pressing on my mind. If he was right, if Jerry truly bore the bloodstone, then none of this was a coincidence. His strength, his rage… even Debby’s strange influence over him… it was all tied to something bigger than either of us could control.

I considered telling her. We can't face this and win without Jerry's strength. The fastest way to Jerry’s trust was through Debby—that much today had taught me. But one look at her face, at the wall she’d built between us, and I swallowed it down like poison.

Silence stretched between us. Words unsaid pressed heavier than those spoken.

And in that silence—my wolf stirred.

From the hallway, faint and broken, I caught it. Jerry's voice. His words slipped through the walls like smoke, too soft for human ears, but I heard it clear as day:

“Vasilias Lykaon.”