The Lady always said Kavya had a talent for two things—killing and causing trouble. She did both with ease, and neither weighed heavy on her conscience. From the moment she’d slit a man’s throat at ten to now, years later, standing as the infamous Wolf of the Canine’s, nothing had changed. Blood came easy. Violence even easier. And fear? That was something she inspired, not felt.

She knew what people whispered when she walked the streets. That she was The Lady’s favorite executioner, that she had more bodies on her hands than the city morgue. That her laid-back attitude was just another trick, a way to lure people in before she sank her teeth in deep. She let them talk. She let them look. She let them shrink away when she passed by in her beaten-up leather jacket, hands shoved lazily in her pockets, like the world and all its dangers were beneath her.

Because they were.

The Canine’s ran this city, and Kavya? She ran beneath The Lady’s watchful eye, a beast let loose only when necessary. And right now, what was necessary was convincing the fighter to join them.

The fighter wasn’t special, not in the way The Lady usually liked. She had no connections, no debts, nothing to exploit. What she had was raw, unbeaten strength, a streak of wins so clean it made the underground ring owners nervous. Kavya liked that about her. Liked the way her knuckles split and bruised but never failed to knock someone down. Liked the fire in her eyes, the way she never backed down, never flinched.

That was why, for the past few weeks, Kavya had made a habit of finding her after every fight. She’d lounge against the alley wall, smoking, watching the fighter stalk past her like she wasn’t there. It was amusing.

“Another win,” Kavya would say, exhaling smoke through her teeth. “How long you think that’ll last?”

The fighter never answered. Not properly, anyway. A grunt, a glare, sometimes nothing at all. But Kavya wasn’t the kind to give up. She’d follow, step in time with the fighter’s clipped pace, always pushing.

“You should join the Canine’s,” she’d say. “The Lady could use someone like you.”

“Not interested.”same answer.

And that was that. But Kavya wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

**

The first time Kavya killed, she was a kid. A street rat, half-starved, running wild in the back alleys of a city that had no place for her. The man she gutted had deserved it, though. He had grabbed her wrist, tried to drag her off somewhere dark. She hadn’t hesitated. Just took the rusted knife from her pocket and shoved it into his gut.

Irene, bless her heart, found her after that. Found her standing over the bleeding man, hands sticky, eyes blank. She’d looked down at Kavya and smiled. and an unfamiliar, but welcome warmth bloomed in Kavya’s chest.

The Lady may have changed her, but what she carried for Irene was real.

And that was it. Kavya had followed, and the rest was history.

**

Tonight, the ring smelled of sweat and blood, the kind of filth that stuck to your skin no matter how many times you washed. Kavya leaned against the railing, watching the fighter move, quick and sharp. She fought like she had something to prove, something to protect.

By the time the fight was over, the fighter was the only one standing, her opponent unconscious on the mat. Kavya grinned.

She didn’t bother waiting this time. She cut the fighter off before she could leave, stepping into her path with that same lazy confidence. “You keep fighting like that, someone’s gonna get real tired of losing to you.”

The fighter wiped blood from her lip, unimpressed.

Kavya continued, unfazed. “You think about my offer?”