Fangs & Freaks (Shifters of Myths and Legends #1)

Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Bellonna

“Care to let me in on this lead?” I’m barely holding my anger together.

Warrick lets out a sigh. “I’m not a hundred percent sure. But I doubt they’re holding her in the same place as Varys. Not after we got in there so easily and took him. I’m thinking it’s somewhere off the map. Some place that only holds importance to them, somewhere obscure.”

“Fucking Christ, Warrick, just spit it out. I clearly don’t have the mental capacity to figure it out and by the look of the death dealer, she’s about to blow a gasket,” Blackwell interjects as mental images of our playtime flood my mind, soothing the fire raging inside of me. It’s something I definitely plan to revisit again.

“I’ve been researching you, as you already know, trying to find out everything I could about you in order to take you down. In my search, I found your connection to the Obsidian Circle and a piece of property that was purchased. One that you know well.” He pauses, waiting for my response.

“My mortal home. The one they built on.” My voice is soft as the words slip across my lips. The unicorn steps up behind me, placing his arms on my shoulders with such tenderness and love. Warrick gazes at me with sympathy in his eyes, clearly thinking this is news to me. I’ve known since the day it happened; I just didn’t care. That was no longer my home, but the beginning of my end.

“You knew?” He quirks his brow.

“I did. Just didn’t care if they purchased it. I burned the house down, so it was just the land. I wouldn’t dare let them live in the home my father built,” I tell him nonchalantly.

I didn’t really like them being on the land I worked so hard on as a mortal, but sometimes there are things even I can’t control. Plus, it gave me the added benefit of always knowing where they were, even if they thought they had the upper hand.

Warrick moves behind his desk, stepping over some of the mess on the floor and takes a seat in his chair. He leans forward, resting his forearms on the hard mahogany wood, his piercing gaze fixed on me, his eyes lasering in on Varys’ hands on my shoulders.

“Since we’re talking about the Obsidian Circle and your past,” he begins, his voice low but firm, “I have a question. You told us your story, how you kill the offspring of your accusers when they turn twenty. I know from my research that the Obsidian Circle was created by those very offspring. How are they still able to keep their line going? I can understand it working in earlier years, but by now, wouldn’t they have caught on? Wouldn't they have stopped having children?”

I tilt my head slightly, a cold smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. My eyes glint with the hint of something dark, something dangerous. I had wondered how long it would take for him to put the pieces together and ask this very question.

I lift my hand, covering Varys’ with mine. “Lean back and enjoy. It’s story time. Listen up, psycho boy.” Blackwell gives me a smirk but does just as he’s told, like an obedient little boy. One I’ll have to reward later. I toss him a wink before flashing popcorn into the room.

“Oh, hell yes. Can I get a nice O-neg to go with it, baby?” Blackwell laughs, but I reward him, popping a blood bag into his hand. Since Warrick is scowling, he doesn’t get one. Serves him right.

Now that I’m done with the theatrics, I take a seat on Varys’ lap, letting my arm wrap around his shoulders as I place a kiss on the corner of his lips.

“They did,” I begin, my tone even but laced with venom. “My vendetta is for blood. They learned that if they couldn’t keep their bloodline safe, they’d have to find another way.”

I lean closer into Varys, taking comfort in the warmth he’s giving me. His arms slip around my waist, giving me an encouraging squeeze. “Adoption,” I continue. “Not blood, but still family. Still capable of carrying on their traditions, their corruption.” My voice drops lower, a quiet, simmering rage bleeding through. “It doesn’t mean they don’t slip up. Sometimes, a child is born—pure, untainted by their schemes—and when they do…” I pause, my smirk widening, my voice sharpening like a blade. “I take great pleasure in ending them. In making them suffer the way their ancestors made me suffer.”

The room falls silent for a moment, the weight of my words hanging in the air. Warrick’s expression tightens, his brows furrowing as he processes the implications of what I’ve said. Before he can say anything, I straighten, sitting upright in Varys' lap, my smirk fading into a look of grim determination. “But maybe it’s time I stop waiting for them to mess up. Maybe it’s time I put an end to their corruption once and for all.” My voice grows colder as it cuts through the tension like ice. “It’s time the myth comes out of the shadows and becomes reality.”

Warrick’s jaw tightens, his voice sharp as he leans in closer. “You’re talking about wiping them out entirely. You realize what that would mean? What it would take?”

“Fuck yeah. Let’s roast their asses. It’s time for some Obsidian Shish Kabobs.” Blackwell jumps up, knocking the bowl of uneaten popcorn on the floor, but holds tight to the blood bag as he pumps his hand in the air.

Before I can answer, Varys chuckles softly as he squeezes me tightly, turning my head to face him. I take pride in the amusement in his eyes. “You’ve got to admire the ambition,” he says, his tone light, almost mocking. “Nothing says commitment like planning to eradicate an entire legacy.”

“What you’re proposing isn’t just ambitious—it’s dangerous. Not just for you, but for anyone who gets caught in the crossfire.”

I glare back at him, my face expressionless and unwavering under his scrutiny. “I’m the danger that they should fear. They have plagued my life for more than three centuries. This isn’t about ambition. It’s about justice. About balance.”

Warrick shakes his head, his frustration evident. “Justice? Balance? This sounds a hell of a lot like revenge to me.”

My smirk returns, colder than before, as I let out a chuckle. “Call it what you want, Warrick. But when the time comes, you’ll see it for what it is—a reckoning long overdue.”

The silence that follows is heavy, charged with unspoken challenges and simmering tension as I wait for their response.

“While eradication is a great solution to the problem, is it really the best answer in this case?” Warrick asks.

“I’ve tolerated them for way too long. Now that they’ve messed with my mate’s family—they suffer.” My words come out laced with ice and fire as my gaze sweeps the room, before landing back possessively on Varys.

“Mate?” Warrick and Blackwell say in unison, their voices cutting through the charged air. Warrick’s expression maintains a well-hidden mask, though his lips press into a tight line, while Blackwell’s is more shocked, with a hint of playfulness shining through his eyes.

“Yes.” A wicked smile curls at the edges of my mouth. My hand slides down Varys’ chest, a proprietary gesture making my claim clear as I trace over my mark. “So even though you made a feeble attempt to mark him, Blackwell, he is one hundred percent mine.”

Blackwell’s composure falters, his sharp gaze flickering between me and Varys, a faint crack in his usually calm demeanor. Warrick, on the other hand, folds his arms across his chest, his scowl deepening as he shifts his weight back in the chair. He’s pissed. Rightfully so, but I don’t fucking care. I told him the unicorn was mine.

“But,” I add with a teasing lilt, my voice dripping with provocation, “if you’re a good boy, Blackwell, maybe I’ll let you have a taste.” My finger trails deliberately down Varys’ chest before cupping his cock in a way that leaves no room for misinterpretation. Varys let out a soft moan, his own demeanor far more relaxed than anyone else in the room.

“Did you enjoy yourself earlier?” I ask, my voice sultry and playful.

“Fuck yeah,” Blackwell replies without hesitation, a grin splitting his face. He adjusts himself before sitting back down in the chair, the glint in his eyes both mischievous and unrepentant. “Can we do it again? I enjoyed being the parts, but I want to be all of them.” He gives me a wink and I can’t help but clench my legs together, attempting to ease the ache that's building. He matches my crazy in all the best ways.

Warrick’s jaw drops slightly before he catches himself, his eyes narrowing as though he’s trying to piece together a puzzle that all of a sudden clicks into place.

“Varys,” Blackwell speaks, “did you know what our death dealer did to me?”

“After the fact,” Varys adds, shrugging.

Warrick groans, running a hand over his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me. This... this is what we’re dealing with now? Have we forgotten about Vienna? The Obsidian? Am I the only fucking sane one around here?”

I raise an eyebrow, my grin widening. “Jealous, Warrick? Or just frustrated that you’re not part of the fun?”

“Don’t,” Warrick snaps, pointing a finger at me. “Don’t drag me into your...whatever this is.”

Blackwell clears his throat, his gaze sharp as he addresses me directly. “This complicates things,” he says, his tone clipped but measured. “You being Varys’ mate, I mean. Especially with everything else we’re dealing with.”

I tilt my head, my expression hardening. “It doesn’t complicate anything,” I state firmly. “It clarifies things. The Obsidian Circle crossed a line, and now they’ll pay for it. Would it complicate things if you were Varys' mate?” I wait for them to say something, but they don’t. Men and their fucking double standards.

“Thought so.”

“I can agree with them on one thing, Bellonna. We’re wasting time. We need to save Vienna. Then we can have fun.” Varys’ concerned voice pulls my attention.

“Fine, mate.” I give him a kiss on the lips, making sure to put on a show for the fangbangers. Blackwell’s moans of approval only urging me on.

Warrick shakes his head, his exasperation clear. “This is going to be a nightmare.”