"So once he figures me out, the intensity stops?"
"Did I say that?" He laughs. "No. Then he just finds new ways to be unhinged about you. It evolves. Like a disease."
"Lovely."
"At least you're not boring. He's had boring fixations before. Those end badly."
"This is ending well?"
"You're still breathing. By Discord standards, that's a love story."
My face goes hot. "I'm going to push you into traffic."
"You'd miss me."
"I absolutely would not."
"You'd miss having someone to be horrified with. Koshin doesn't count. He is the horror."
...He's not wrong. That's the worst part.
We turn down another street. The entrance to Discord's manor sits where it always does—a stone archway carved into the street, stairs descending into the dark. No signage. No guards visible. Just a hole in the ground that swallows you whole.
Living underground shouldn't feel normal yet. But here I am, walking toward a subterranean lair with a man who paints faces on turnips, and somehow this is just... Tuesday.
"You did well today," Renan says. Not looking at me. "Koshin's going to be—" He stops. Considers. "He's going to have feelings about it."
"Feelings."
"Proud. Possessive. Probably jealous that you spent time with me and not him. The usual cocktail of things that would get a mortal institutionalized."
"Great. Can't wait. Love that for me."
"Welcome to Discord." He pushes open the gate. "Where nothing is stable and everything is personal."
"You should put that on a banner."
"We had one. Koshin set it on fire."
"Of course he did."
"In his defense, it was a really ugly banner."
"Was it?"
"No. It was fine. He just felt like burning something that day."
I stare at him.
He shrugs. "Told you.”
Koshin is waiting in the entrance hall.
He's clean—changed clothes, washed the blood off, though I can still see traces of it in the creases of his knuckles. His eyes lock onto me the second we walk through the door.
Then they move to Renan.
Then back to me.
