The crate hid him completely, rough wood pressed hard against his spine. Loose strands of hair veiled one eye while the other remained fixed on the doorway, unblinking.
He wasn't thinking anymore. Instinct had taken over, sharp and insistent, leaving no room for hesitation.
Footsteps approached.
Garron stepped out into the hall and turned to close the door, keys already in his hand.
That was when Ivor moved.
He slipped free of the crate in two soundless steps and launched himself forward.
His chest slammed into Garron's back as his arms locked around the man's shoulders, his legs snapping tight around Garron's waist. The sudden weight drove Garron forward with a startled grunt.
Ivor's right hand clenched the uneven piece of metal and drove it toward Garron's neck.
Instead of flesh, there was resistance.
Metal rang sharply as the jagged edge scraped against a chain hidden beneath Garron's collar. The impact jarred up Ivor's arm, the shock biting deep into his wrist.
'I missed.'
The realization hit hard, but his body didn't slow.
He tightened his legs and pulled back, wrenching Garron off balance. Garron staggered, one foot skidding forward as a curse tore from his throat.
"What the—"
Ivor tore his arm free and swung again, angling for the side of Garron's head.
Garron reacted instantly.
One hand shot up and crushed Ivor's left arm against his own throat, pinning it there. The other slammed into Ivor's wrist mid-swing, stopping the metal inches from his face.
The jagged edge punched straight through Garron's palm.
Blood spilled at once, hot and slick, running down his fingers.
"You bastard!"
Garron roared and twisted violently, driving himself backward and smashing Ivor into the wall. The impact knocked the breath from Ivor's lungs, but his legs stayed locked, refusing to release.
Garron wrenched at him again, but Ivor couldn't bring the metal up.
So he adapted.
He leaned forward and bit down hard at the side of Garron's neck, angling past the chain. His teeth tore into skin and muscle. Heat flooded his mouth as blood spilled free, and a low, animal sound ripped from his throat as he clamped down.
Garron screamed.
He surged backward, slamming Ivor into the wall again, then again, trying to tear him loose. The impacts rattled through Ivor's bones, each one stealing what little air he had left.
With a final violent shove, Garron broke his grip and flung him aside.
Ivor hit the ground on his shoulder and rolled, the air tearing out of his lungs in a harsh, useless gasp. Pain exploded through his ribs, hot and immediate.
He barely managed to drag in half a breath before Garron's boot crashed into his side.
The blow folded him inward.
The boot came again, lower this time.
Ivor cried out and twisted away, dragging himself across the floor with his arms. When he tried to pull his leg with him, it screamed in protest.
Something was wrong.
He pushed the thought aside.
The pressure behind his eyes surged hard, snapped back, then surged again, wild and unsteady. The edges of the room blurred, the world narrowing until only Garron remained in focus.
Garron lunged.
His hand caught Ivor's collar and hauled him up. The floor vanished as the world tilted, and then Garron slammed him back into the wall, driving the breath from his chest once more.
A forearm came up and crushed across Ivor's throat.
"It's you," Garron snarled, leaning in close. "I knew there was something wrong with you. You think biting me saves you?"
Ivor clawed at the arm crushing his throat, his nails scraping uselessly against skin and cloth. His vision tunneled as darkness crept in at the edges, bright and pulsing, each second stealing more air than the last.
Garron drew his fist back.
Ivor saw it coming and knew he couldn't move in time. The fist drove into his stomach, the impact deep and brutal, pain flaring so sharply it shattered thought entirely.
Ivor bit down the scream trying to tear out of his throat.
Garron shoved him down and stepped forward, lifting his boot again, lining up the strike with practiced ease.
He never got the chance to bring it down.
Something slammed into Garron from the side, a sudden, violent collision that wrenched him off balance.
Grunty.
She hit him with the full weight of her body, a white blur of muscle and fury, driving him sideways and tearing the moment apart.
The impact lifted Garron off his feet. His boots left the ground as he was hurled into the stacked crates, wood splintering under the collision. The sound was heavy and wet, like something giving way that wasn't meant to.
He hit hard, rolled, and skidded across the stone, the breath knocked clean out of him.
"You stu—"
Grunty was already moving.
The ground shuddered beneath her charge, each step heavy and uneven. Garron staggered as pain tore through his ribs, his balance barely holding as he twisted away from her.
Then he recovered.
Hands shaking, he tore the black rod from his belt and slammed his thumb down on the switch.
Mana rippled outward. The air itself seemed to tense.
Grunty screamed.
The collar around her neck flared white-hot, light searing through her fur. The cuffs snapped shut with a sharp metallic crack, and her legs buckled as the energy tore through her body. She dropped to one knee, muscles seizing so hard her frame visibly locked in place.
Ivor saw her head jerk back, jaws parting as the sound ripped out of her again.
Garron didn't hesitate. He stepped in and brought the rod down across her ribs.
Once.
Her body jerked sideways with the blow.
He struck her again, the impact landing lower this time.
"This is what you get," Garron spat. "This is what happens when you forget what you are. Nothing more than a slave."
Grunty tried to push herself up.
Her claws scraped against the stone as she dragged one foreleg forward, teeth bared, breath tearing in and out of her chest. For a heartbeat, it looked like she might rise.
Garron pressed the switch again.
The rod hummed. Mana surged.
Her collar flared brighter, white-hot against her throat. Her body convulsed violently, muscles locking as the force ripped through her, and she slammed back down hard enough to rattle the floor. Her claws carved pale lines into the stone as they skidded uselessly.
Ivor saw her shudder, saw the way her legs failed her again, saw the way the strength simply left her.
Garron watched her struggle with clenched teeth and pressed the switch again.
"Stay," he snarled.
Grunty let out a broken sound, caught halfway between a roar and a whine, and tried once more. Her limbs betrayed her. She collapsed fully this time, chest heaving, breath coming in ragged, tearing bursts.
Ivor dragged himself forward.
Stone burned his palms as they scraped across the floor. Every movement sent fire up his arms and into his ribs, but his eyes never left her. He could see the tremor running through her body, the way each breath hit harder than the last.
She was still trying.
The pressure behind his eyes swelled violently.
It was no longer rolling or testing. The pressure packed tight, dense and compressed, like something trapped inside him with nowhere left to go. The pale crescent in his eyes fractured into uneven segments, briefly forming part of a ring.
Garron turned back toward him.