They rode home in a low, tense quiet, each turning possibilities over like knives. Krovanis and Asmeryn sketched angles and traps between them, how to force Renny's hand, how to make him surrender the Ezra fruit without giving him any clean way out. Entering the garden alone had been a risk they could not repeat; if Renny smelled a set-up, he'd turn it on them, and it would be their end. The idea, then, was to craft a corner he could not sidestep, a scenario with pressure like Leila's, a choice with no honourable escape.

It was late. They agreed to sleep on the scheme and refine it in the morning.

But Krovanis could not let the matter rest, not for Leila's sake, not for his pride. If he could not avenge what had been done, he could at least punish, deny Renny the grade he chased. If Renny failed to complete his contract by July, the promotion window would slam shut, and he'd be forced to repeat. Make him sick, break him, render him unable to perform, force him to fail.

A smile that wasn't kind creased Krovanis's mouth. After parting ways with Asmeryn, he decided there was one last thing to do before calling it a night. He changed course. The car turned toward the Ezraphor estate.

***

Krovanis slipped through the shadow-realm like a hand through dark water and stepped into Renny's apartment as if he had always been there.

Myla sat on the couch, eyes fixed on the television. The screen's light painted her face in sickly blue. She jolted the moment the shadow resolved into Krovanis's shape.

"How?" she began, then stopped, breath gone.

"Save the theatrics," Krovanis said, voice flat. "I came through the shadows." He let the words hang, as if the method needed no more explanation. Then, sharper: "More important... what are you doing here? You're a Damaruk, yes?"

She nodded.

"Then what business does a Damaruk have with the Ezraphor?" he pressed.

Myla's cheeks warmed. She stammered, retreating. Krovanis cut her off with a sneer. "Oh... don't tell me. You're seeing him?"

She nodded again, slower this time.

Krovanis's mouth curled in disgust. "How foolish." He shook his head, every motion cold. "Asmeryn will deal with you." The threat was casual.

"Where is the Ezraphor?" he asked finally, watching her like a hawk.

Myla swallowed. "In the Pit," she said. "He's finishing a contract. He's taking down a beast so that he can secure his promotion." A small smile touched her lips. "If he gets it… He'll be upgraded."

Krovanis barked a laugh that had no warmth. "You're happy for him? For real?"

Myla blinked, uneasy. "Well... yeah. Isn't that what being in a relationship is about?"

"Unbelievable." Krovanis's lip curled. "You're the worst kind of Damaruk I've met." He stepped closer, voice low and dangerous. "Which beast is he handling in the Pit?"

"I can't tell you. You tampered with his previous soul-key extraction, didn't you?" Myla queried. "He told me everything… why did you do that?"

Krovanis's face went cold in a beat. "You..." He didn't finish. The word that came out next cut the air.

"You bitch!" Krovanis spat.

In an instant, his hand closed around her throat, fingers locked tight. "I should kill you right now, for so many reasons," he hissed, voice low and lethal. "The Royals would be pleased if I did so, right here, right now."

Myla activated her demon eyes as she tried to fight back, but Krovanis only squeezed harder. His demon eyes ignited, and he mouthed a demonic spell. He squeezed tighter; his hand glowed, and a sigil appeared around her neck, white and hot.

Under that burning pressure, her mark began to fray and wither, her demon eyes erasing. She clawed at his fingers, coughing, but the spell worked.

"You're a Grade One demon," Krovanis said, voice flat. "Nothing but flesh to me. How easily a Grade One's mark can be erased has always interested me. Their weakness. The worst grade to be."

He kept his palm pressed, the heat unrelenting as the sigil frayed under his touch. "And now," he added, "you won't even progress."

Then, abruptly, he released her. "No... killing you now would be stupid," he said, stepping back. "I could end you anytime, but then I'd lose the chance to punish that Ezraphor the way I want."

Myla collapsed to the floor, coughing, hands clawing at her neck as she struggled for breath. Krovanis crouched until he was level with her eyes, his face close, voice low and dangerous.

"Tell me," he demanded. "Now... which beast is he dealing with?"

***

Krovanis, Myla had told him, Renny was dealing with Muralen. He got the direction of the beast's domain and made his way there. When he arrived, the area was empty. No demon or beast in sight. He checked the map twice, fingers drumming the leather cover, confirming the coordinates with a cold, growing impatience. Where were they both? Had Renny already subdued the beast?

"Fuck," he muttered. He'd wasted time talking to that stupid Damaruk. He turned, intent on leaving.

A voice stopped him mid-step, familiar. He spun back. Standing not ten paces away, leaning on a broken cage bar as if it were a throne, was Ravuto. Krovanis stared. "Ravuto?" he said, stunned. "How are you here? You should be..."

"In the Collector's Ring, right?" Ravuto finished for him, amusement and something colder in his rasp. "After you put me there."

Ravuto closed the distance, anger moving like a weight behind his steps. "For years," he snapped. "You left me to rot down there." His voice broke on the last word, edged with contempt. "All because of a girl!"

Ravuto's eyes hardened. "All because of a girl, Krovanis. A girl!" he roared, the sound echoing across the empty pit.

"That was not just a girl," Krovanis shot back, stepping closer until their faces were inches apart. "She was mine. You used your seniority to try and take her from me." He spat the words like venom. "Pity those who try to take what's mine, because their fate is nothing but misery."

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