The rhythmic swaying of the Imperial Carriage was a far cry from the stationary luxury of Gary Goffer's former penthouse, but the opulence was hauntingly familiar. Levi awoke to the sound of rain—real, heavy rain—drumming against the reinforced mahogany roof.
For a moment, disoriented by the lingering fog of magical exhaustion, he expected to see the cold, clinical skyline of a modern city.
Instead, he saw silver.
Prince George Grant sat directly across from him, his massive frame barely contained by the velvet-lined interior of the carriage.
He wasn't wearing his battle armor now; he was dressed in a high-collared tunic of midnight blue, his silver hair unknotted and falling like a metallic waterfall over his shoulders. He was watching Levi with the unwavering focus of a hawk circling a particularly confusing piece of prey.
Levi shifted, his muscles aching with a dull, thrumming heat. The "Wood Core" at his center felt like a hearth that had been stoked too high and then suddenly doused.
"You've been asleep for fourteen hours," George said.
His voice was lower than before, stripped of the public thunder he used for his generals.
"The Royal Physician said your meridians were 'screaming.' He'd never seen a Wood-type force a century of growth into a dead husk in three minutes. Most would have died from the backlash."
Levi sat up slowly, smoothing the wrinkled emerald silk of his robes. He felt fragile, but his mind was sharp—the "Gary" part of him was already calculating the leverage he'd gained from that little stunt in the War Room.
"I've always been a bit of an overachiever, George," Levi replied, his voice raspy.
He spotted a crystal decanter of amber liquid on the side table and reached for it.
Before his shaking hand could touch the glass, George was there. The Prince poured a measure into a goblet and held it to Levi's lips. It was a gesture of service that felt alien coming from an Alpha of his stature.
Levi drank. It wasn't wine; it was a thick, sweet nectar that tasted of sunshine and honey.
"Medicinal?"
"A blend of solar-infused herbs to stabilize your core," George said, retreating to his seat but keeping his eyes locked on Levi's.
"You destroyed the War Room, Levi. The Silver-Leaf Willow has fused with the foundation of the North Wing. The architects say it's structural now. They can't move it without bringing down the roof."
Levi leaned back, a faint, tired smirk playing on his lips.
"Consider it a renovation. That room was far too gloomy for my taste. Tactical maps and scorched stone? It lacked... life."
George leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. The scent of him—that ozone and cold rain—filled the carriage, pressing against Levi's senses.
"Let's stop the games. The man I married was a hollow shell. He was a Duke's son who couldn't look me in the eye without trembling. He spent our wedding night begging me not to touch him, claiming my 'Lightning' was too violent for his 'delicate' nature."
George's eyes narrowed, a flicker of blue static dancing in his pupils.
"You just grabbed me by the collar and threatened me in front of my high command. You just performed a miracle that should have burnt your soul to ash. Who are you?"
Levi took a slow breath.
This was the moment. In his past life, Gary knew that the most successful lies were built on a foundation of brutal honesty.
"The Levi you knew... he gave up," Levi said softly, looking at the rain-streaked window. "He was a boy caught in a prophecy he didn't ask for, married to a man who looked at him like a faulty tool. He broke, George. People do that when they have no one to hold them up."
He turned back to the Prince, his gaze hard and bright.
"But when I woke up after my collapse, something changed. Call it a divine intervention or a simple snap of the mind. I realized that if I'm going to be a 'tool' for this Empire, I might as well be the most expensive, most powerful tool you've ever seen. I'm not that boy anymore. I'm the man who is going to save your crown. But I told you—it won't be for free."
George stayed silent for a long time. The carriage hit a bump, and the Prince didn't even blink.
"You mentioned a contract. Renegotiating the terms. What does a 'Jade Branch' want that he doesn't already have? You live in a palace. You wear the finest silks. You are the second most powerful person in Levicious."
"I am a prisoner in a gilded cage," Levi corrected him sharply. "I want autonomy. I want my own budget—not an allowance, but a treasury account I control. I want the right to travel without a dozen 'handlers' breathing down my neck. And most importantly..."
Levi leaned forward, mirroring George's posture.
"I want the end of the 'Consort' charade. No more weeping in the North Wing. No more being your silent shadow at ceremonies. If I am the one bringing prosperity, then I am a partner. An equal. We are two powers joined for the sake of an Empire, not an Alpha and his trophy."
George's lip curled into something that might have been a smile, or perhaps a snarl.
"An equal? You are an Omega, Levi. Your biology—"
"My biology just grew a forest in your War Room while your 'Alpha' generals were busy figuring out how to burn the world down," Levi interrupted.
"Don't talk to me about biology. Talk to me about results."
The tension in the carriage became physical. The air grew heavy, the scent of pine and mint from Levi's awakening pheromones clashing with George's lightning. It was a dance of power that had nothing to do with their ranks and everything to do with their souls.
George stood up—a difficult feat in a moving carriage—and moved to the seat next to Levi. He loomed over him, his heat radiating through their clothes. He reached out, his hand hovering near Levi's neck, where the scent gland pulsed.
Levi didn't flinch. He bared his neck slightly, a gesture that should have been submissive but felt like a dare.
"You're bold," George whispered.
"I've spent my life surrounded by people who agree with me because they fear the storm. You... you look at the storm and ask for a better price."
"Storms are predictable," Levi said, his voice a low vibration. "They destroy. I'm the thing that comes after the storm. I'm the growth. You need me, George. More than you've ever needed anyone."
George's hand finally made contact. His thumb brushed against Levi's jawline, the skin-to-skin contact sending a jolt of electricity through Levi's system. It wasn't painful—it felt like a jump-start to a stalled engine.
"Fine," George said. "A contract. You save the Western Provinces. You show me that this... 'new' you is more than just a flare of temporary madness. If the crops grow, if the people are fed, I will grant you your treasury and your autonomy. You will be a Prince in your own right, not just my consort."
"And the 'marriage'?" Levi asked, his heart skipping a beat.
George's eyes darkened.
"We are bound by the Ancestors, Levi. I cannot dissolve the bond without causing a civil war. But... I will not force you into my bed. Until you ask me to be there, we are partners in statecraft only."
Levi felt a surge of relief, followed by a strange, flicking disappointment he didn't care to analyze.
"Agreed. I'll need access to the Imperial Library's scrolls on elemental synergy. And I'll need Theo to be promoted to my Chief of Staff."
"Done," George said.
He didn't pull his hand away. His thumb traced the line of Levi's lower lip.
"But know this, Levi. I am a Lightning Alpha. I don't do anything halfway. If you play me—if this is some elaborate scheme to escape or humiliate the crown—I will burn your 'Jade Branch' to ash. Do you understand?"
Levi reached up, wrapping his fingers around George's wrist. He felt the heavy thrum of the Prince's pulse.
"I've already been killed by a lover's lie once, George," Levi said, the weight of Gary's past life bleeding into his tone for a split second. "I have no intention of letting it happen again. We're in this together. For better or for worse."
George looked at him, startled by the sudden depth of grief and iron in Levi's voice. He didn't ask about the "lover's lie"—he simply nodded, acknowledging the weight of the promise.
"We reach the first border town of Valerius in two hours," George said, finally pulling back and returning to his seat.
"The drought there is absolute. The local Wood-types have all fled or died trying to hold back the heat. It will be your first real test."
Levi settled back into the cushions, watching the rain outside. The Levicious Empire was a harsh, beautiful place, but as Gary Goffer, he had survived the concrete jungle of Earth. He could surely handle a little dirt and a grumpy Prince.
"Tell them to prepare the town square," Levi said, his eyes reflecting the silver light of the rain.
"I'm going to give them a show they'll never forget."
The carriage rolled on, crossing the invisible line where the green hills of the capital began to transition into the cracked, orange earth of the Western Wastes.
Inside, the silence was no longer heavy with resentment. It was the silence of two predators who had decided to hunt together.
Levi closed his eyes, reaching deep into that emerald core. He could feel the land outside—dying, thirsty, screaming for a bridge.
I'm coming, he thought. And this time, I'm getting paid in more than just gold.