"He followed me thinking he'd hunt. But I let him. Because tonight, I feed monsters their own poison."
NYRA VORA
There's a thing about predators.
They always think they're the ones in control.
So when I slipped out of the gala, heels clicking on the wet pavement, I knew Kray was behind me.
I didn't even have to look.
His presence was like a shadow that thought it was invisible. But I could feel him—just like I felt him the night he knelt beside Ravian, smiling while I bled.
Let him follow.
I wanted him to.
Because tonight wasn't his hunt.
It was mine.
I led him through South Bombay's quiet backstreets, into an underground jazz bar called Sinner's Skin. Red lights. No cameras. No rules.
I handed my coat to a bouncer. Stepped into the smoke-and-rum atmosphere like I owned it.
Then I sat. Alone. Corner booth. Legs crossed. Red wine. Eyes cold.
And waited.
KRAY MANSON
He entered ten minutes later.
Didn't even pretend to be subtle.
He spotted me instantly and walked over, arrogance dressed in designer.
Kray: "You know I was following you."
Nyra: "I was hoping you'd catch up sooner."
He raised an eyebrow. Sat across from me like a king entering war.
Kray: "You enjoy dangerous games, don't you?"
Nyra: "Only when the pieces bleed."
He paused. His smirk faded.
He was starting to feel it now—that chill under his skin. That eerie pull that whispered, you've met her before.
Kray: "You talk like someone I knew. Someone we… lost."
Nyra: "Who killed her?"
His eyes darkened.
Kray: "I don't know. Maybe we all did."
I leaned forward.
Nyra: "Maybe she's not dead. Maybe she's reborn… just smarter this time."
He blinked. Just once.
Kray: "You remind me of Meher."
I tilted my head, my lips curving just slightly.
Nyra: "Poor girl. What happened to her again?"
Kray: "She died. Betrayed. Burned."
Nyra: "And if she came back… what would you do?"
His voice dropped to a whisper.
Kray: "I'd fall on my knees and ask her to finish what we started."
I reached across the table. Traced his fingers lightly.
Nyra: "And what if she didn't want forgiveness? Only revenge."
Kray: "Then I'd let her take me apart… piece by bleeding piece."
LATER – HER APARTMENT
He followed me home.
And no—there was no kiss.
No sex.
Just silence.
And fear.
He stood at the edge of my living room, looking around.
"This place feels like a tomb," he muttered.
"It is," I whispered. "Yours, maybe."
When he left that night, I saw it in his eyes.
Kray was falling.
Not in love.
But into recognition.
Into madness.
And he liked it.
🩸 End of Chapter 6