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The nightclub was a well-known haunt for those humans with power and influence, a place where deals were made and alliances forged under the pulsating beat of the music. Who knew the Blackthorne coven was connected to it. .

As he approached the entrance, Ezra\'s demeanor shifted to one of calm confidence. He was aware of the eyes watching him, assessing him.

His Aura blossomed out of him, giving him an undeniable air of authority. The bouncer at the door, a towering figure with a stern expression, gave him a nod, recognizing power at a single glance. Without a word, Ezra was let inside.

The interior of Pulse was a sensory overload of flashing lights, pounding music, and a throng of people dancing and mingling.

Ezra pulled his Aura back in. He wasn\'t here to attract attention or show off.

He weaved through the crowd, heading towards the back where a discreet door waited.

A host met him there, and with a quick exchange of words, he was led down a narrow, dimly lit hallway to a private room.

The room was quiet compared to the chaotic energy outside. It was luxuriously furnished, with plush seating and soft lighting.

At the center, Veran lounged on a large sofa, flanked by two of his wives, their fangs on full display as they enjoyed their wine.

They were a picture of ease and grace, their presence adding an air of sensuality to the setting.

"Ezra," Veran greeted, his voice smooth but laced with an edge. "Welcome. Please, join us."

Ezra nodded, taking a seat across from Veran.

The wives, one cute woman with long, flowing green hair and the other a blonde with sharp, striking features, regarded him with mild curiosity.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Veran." Ezra began, keeping his tone neutral and respectful.

Veran leaned back, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "I\'ve heard a lot about you, Ezra Matten. A powerful upstart who steals what belongs to others. A man of ambition and cunning, they say."

Ezra met his gaze steadily. "I suppose people do like to talk about things they know nothing about."

Veran\'s smile widened. "They do. And they often like to exaggerate. But I prefer to see for myself."

Ezra sensed the bait but didn\'t rise to it. "I\'m here to discuss how we can help each other, Veran Blackthorne."

Veran\'s eyes gleamed with a challenge. "Help each other, you say? Interesting. I suppose this is about the things we both need with each other."

"Yes." Ezra answered simply. "As I\'m sure you know, the Maguire and Odinson covens no longer stand with you."

"And whose fault is that?" Veran raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Why should I trust the same man who destroyed my allies?"

"Because I\'m the only one you can afford to trust." Ezra leaned back in his chair.

Veran\'s second eyebrow joined the other raised one.

"Griffin is after you as you are a member of the Silent Hand and you can\'t go to Solomon for help." Ezra said. "If Solomon is made away of all you\'re doing, will he give you up to Griffin or kill you himself?"

Veran laughed, his wives chuckling along as they sipped at their drinks. Ezra watched the man calmly.

Finally, Veran\'s laughter tapered off and he held Ezra\'s gaze. "Who said Solomon isn\'t already aware?"

Ezra controlled himself before his eyes could widen in realization. Why didn\'t he think of that?

Solomon could be using Veran to enter Southside the same way Griffin was using him. No one ever said Griffin had a monopoly on being greedy.

Ezra kept staring at Veran. Then he realized something. "You want it all, don\'t you?"

Veran was quiet as the two men stared hard at each other.

"You\'re just like me." Ezra smiled. "You don\'t want to share with Solomon."

"What are you talking about, Ezra Matten?"

Ezra sighed. Talking without mentioning the real issue was getting tiring. "You don\'t want to share the Ascension well."

Veran paused. "You said you had a deal, didn\'t you?"

"Yes."

"Fine. But first, let\'s see if you\'re worth my time." Veran stood, his wives gracefully rising with him and linking their arms through his. "Follow me."

Ezra stood as well, following Veran as he led the way deeper into the nightclub.

They descended a hidden staircase, the thumping music growing fainter as they moved further underground. The air grew cooler, the atmosphere charged with a different kind of energy.

At the bottom of the stairs, a heavy steel door stood before them.

Veran pushed it open to reveal an expansive underground fight club.

The noise hit Ezra like a wave. Cheers, shouts, and the unmistakable sounds of combat.

The air was thick with the scent of sweat and adrenaline.

Veran led Ezra to a private viewing box.

Prominent in the small room was the seat of honor, a luxurious throne-like chair with a clear view of the central arena where a brutal match was already underway.

The fighters were fierce, their bodies moving with lethality as they traded blows.

"Impressive, isn\'t it?" Veran said, his voice barely audible over the roar of the crowd. "This is where strength and skill are truly tested."

Ezra watched the match, his expression calm. "It\'s certainly… intense."

Veran\'s wives settled beside him, their eyes flicking between the match and Ezra. Veran himself leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Ezra. "Tell me, Ezra Matten. What do you think of power? True power?"

Ezra considered his response carefully. "True power is the ability to shape the world around you, to protect those who matter and to crush those who threaten what you hold dear."

Veran chuckled, his eyes gleaming with approval. "A good answer. But words are easy. Proving your worth… that\'s harder."

Ezra remained composed. "And how would you like me to prove my worth, Veran?"

Veran\'s smile was predatory. "I have a proposition. A test, if you will. If you can pass it, I\'ll listen to what you have to say. If not, well…"

"Alright." Ezra nodded. "I\'m listening."