[MIKHAIL]
The scent of peaches hit Mikhail's ears even before they got to the dungeon, and it was so sickeningly sweet that it was disgusting. It was a familiar scent he had once gotten off of Agust, as Mikhail knew.
It had to be him.
The boy who refused to let go of what was never going to be his. Maybe Mikhail was being cruel for thinking of a six-hundred-year-old Lycan as a boy, but, by all accounts, that was what this was from.
A boy who had been tamed because of what he had been trying hard to do.
Mikhail despised Haruki with all he had and all he didn't have.
Haruki had gotten all the parts of Agust he probably never would get, and that had him jealous as fuck.
Because even if he wanted to compete with the bastard and the dungeons, even Mikhail was smart enough to know that shit never happened in one night. He had known from the onset that Agust didn't have the courage to end Haruki even after everything.
