Page 43 of Fangs & Freaks
“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 voicegrows 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.
