Page 43 of Blackmailing Belle (The Lost Girls #4)

Chapter 43

Dissent Amongst the Ranks

BELLE

T he sounds of violence echo through the walls—screams that twist into snarls, the deafening crack of gunfire, and the low, guttural roars of something not entirely human. The building trembles with each explosion of noise, the chaos outside drawing closer.

I can’t sit down even though there is a broken down couch in the corner. My heart pounds with every terrifying sound. Dominic is here, and hell has broken loose.

I recognize one of my new guards, Levi. The one who recognized me in that alleyway. He stands by the door, arms crossed. The younger guard beside him is rigid, stoic, and completely unmoved by the chaos rattling the building.

Another roar shakes the walls, followed by the wet, sickening crunch of bone. A muffled yelp cuts through the chaos, the kind that makes my stomach lurch. The fight isn’t just close—it’s coming straight for us.

My stomach twists, but the younger guard doesn’t so much as glance at the door. His grip on his gun is steady, his face unreadable.

“You don’t have to do this. You guys can walk out this door and just leave.”

Neither of them responds.

“You know this isn’t right,” I focus on Levi, forcing my voice to steady. “Roman doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. You’re just a means to an end for him.”

Levi doesn’t look at me, his jaw tightening slightly, but his expression remains impassive.

“Shut your mouth,” the younger guard snaps, his voice low but cutting.

“Don’t tell me you actually trust him,” I press, ignoring the younger guard and keeping my focus on Levi. “You’ve seen what he’s done to people on the streets with those dirty hexes. What he’s done to his own family. Do you really want to be his tool? Do you trust you’ll be fine drinking that shit?” Roman gave both of them a vial of the shifting Thorn before he left them with instructions to put a bullet in my head if Dominic gets a chance to set eyes on me again.

Levi’s gaze shutters, just for a moment, but it’s enough.

Something slams into the dirty window. Quickly crossing the room, I open it to find a black and white flutterbun. It’s one of my little buddies from the house, though how it got here totally leaves me confused. It flies into my arms, nuzzling me.

Dominic was right. Once they get loose, they get into all kinds of places.

Another shake of the building and a gurgling scream come from too close by.

The flutterbun takes flight again, darting back out the window. Whatever is happening, it’s not natural. A loud crash erupts just outside the door, followed by a guttural roar so deep it feels like it vibrates through my chest .

I glance at Levi, hoping for some flicker of reassurance, but his face is a mask of tension.

The fight sounds like it’s at the doorstep.

The younger guard pulls out his vial. “It’s time.”

“You’re going to kill yourself,” I say sadly.

Levi shifts subtly, his stance widening slightly as he glances at the younger guard.

“No,” Levi says quietly, his voice steady.

The younger guard frowns, his head turning toward Levi. “What?”

“I said no,” Levi repeats.

The guard’s expression hardens, his grip on the rifle tightening. But Levi moves first. His hand shoots out, grabbing the barrel of the rifle and yanking it downward. The guard stumbles, his composure breaking as Levi strikes him across the temple with the butt of his pistol.

The guard collapses to the ground, his weapon clattering beside him.

Levi opens the door, his expression grim. “Go.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the chaos outside.

We barely get two steps into the hallway before the sickening stench of death hits us—a mix of burnt hair and rotting flesh. The pile of remains sprawled across the cracked floor is unrecognizable as anything human or wolf. Bone juts out at impossible angles, splintered and sharp, while patches of fur cling to twisted muscle like moss on a decaying log.

One of the bodies twitches, a spasm running through what’s left of its limbs before going still. The sight churns my stomach. Whatever this Thorn is doing, it isn’t just unstable—it’s monstrous .

Levi pauses, his jaw tightening as he scans the grotesque heap. “Sweet baby witchtits.”

I swallow hard, the bile rising in my throat.

The Thorn is unstable. It’s mutating and killing Roman’s people.

A roar tears through the chaos, deep and guttural, so warped it sends a shiver down my spine. It’s not Dominic.

I guess the Thorn isn’t killing all of them. I don’t want to meet Roman’s new super race, but I have to find Dominic. We’ve got to get out of here.

Another crash reverberates through the hallway, followed by what sounds like a blowtorch igniting. Levi doesn’t wait—he takes off down the corridor without so much as a glance back.

I stumble after him, but he’s faster, his figure vanishing around a corner as the noise behind us grows louder. I don’t know where I’m going, only that I need to keep moving.

A jagged hole gapes in the wall to my right, a window shattered inward. Wind howls through the opening, carrying the scent of rain and smoke. Shards of glass littering the floor crunch under my boots.

My pace slows as instinct tells me danger is near.

And then—a presence.

A hulking shadow detaches from the darkness ahead, its breath steaming in the cold. Not human. Not fully wolf. Bone pierces the slick, patchy fur, ribs pushing against too-tight skin like they’re trying to break free. Its yellow eyes lock onto me, and for a breath, I know—I am prey. My muscles seize. My body knows what my mind refuses to process. Death is here.

It lunges.

Something small and fast streaks past my face. A blur of black and white. Then another. Then three more. The flutterbuns.

They descend like winged demons, their tiny fangs sinking into exposed flesh. The beast snarls in fury, shaking its head as more of them pour through the shattered window, exploding into the hall like a furry-gothic plague. Claws scratch. Fangs tear. The monster shrieks, snapping wildly as the swarm overtakes it.

I don’t waste my chance. I run.

My lungs burn as I blindly sprint, still having no sense of where I am or how to escape this place. I round a corner and slam into something solid. “Belle,” a low, familiar voice says, sharp and breathless.

Adrian.

His face is pale and slick with sweat under the dim hallway light, eyes darting nervously.

“Roman’s lost it,” he blurts, grabbing my hand and pulling me along. “He’s gone too far. We need to get out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I stop, wrenching my wrist away from him. “I’ve got to find Dominic.”

Adrian stops and grabs my shoulders. “Forget him. Forget Roman. We were good once. We could be good again. Once the bodies are buried, we can start over. We’ll pick up the pieces and rebuild.”

Before I can say anything, his lips crush against mine in a frantic, twisted imitation of affection.

And then he’s gone.

Adrian flies across the room, slamming into the wall with a sickening thud. Dominic stands there covered in blood. His chest heaving. His claws extended. His green eyes glow with murderous intent .

“What did I tell you,” Dominic growls, low and lethal, “about touching my wife?”

Adrian scrambles to his feet, but he doesn’t get far. Dominic is on him in a flash, claws ripping through flesh in a brutal, precise strike. Adrian’s body crumples to the floor, lifeless.

My knees are suddenly gelatin, I can’t breathe.

Dominic turns to me. “Are you hurt?”

Relief sweeps through me so hard I almost collapse on the spot. Dominic’s alive. The relief is fleeting. He’s covered in blood, and I’m not sure if it’s his or someone else’s. The sounds of snarling and yelps near.

I start to run to him when the metallic click of a hammer being drawn halts me mid-step. Roman stands to the side, a gun trained on me. A menacing growl rips from Dominic’s throat.

My cousin holds up a bottle of dark liquid in his other hand. “You think you’ve won, Dominic?” he sneers. “Let’s see how you handle the strength of a beast more powerful than you.”

“Roman, don’t do it. It could kill you or worse. It’s not stable. You’ve seen it for yourself.”

Roman’s lip curls. “They aren’t all as strong as me. Welcome to the new age, cousin .” His last words are a taunt. Then he downs the vial in one swift motion.

His body jerks violently, like a puppet with its strings pulled too hard. His spine arches with a sickening crack and his limbs convulse, elongating at uneven angles. Bones splinter beneath his skin, pressing outward in jagged ridges, some tearing through muscle as if his body is rejecting its own transformation.

Fur sprouts in uneven patches, thin and wiry, leaving sections of raw, mottled flesh exposed. His face elongates unnaturally, the jaw unhinging with a wet, snapping sound as fangs erupt in chaotic rows. One of his legs twists entirely backward, dragging as he struggles to stay upright, his movements jerky and disjointed.

His glowing eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second, and in them, I see terror. Roman might have thought he could control this, but the Thorn has taken over, reshaping him into something monstrous—a creature of pain and rage.

He collapses to all fours, his chest heaving as his malformed claws scrape against the blood-slick floor.

Dominic squares his shoulders, his body quaking with visible exhaustion, but his claws remain extended. He doesn’t move, not yet. He watches my cousin writhe in piteous agony. I want to look away from the horror, but I can’t.

Dominic seems to revel in watching Roman snarl and gurgle as he writhes in pain. I can only imagine the satisfaction he feels at watching the man who slaughtered his entire family suffer what looks to be unimaginable pain and torment.

My cousin has destroyed himself and is now trapped in a malformed body, harmless to do anyone harm again.

“Belle,” Dominic finally rasps, his voice heavy. “Your call.”

My throat tightens as I meet his gaze, the weight of the decision pressing down on me. Roman is no longer human, no longer even a man. He’s a thing, a consciousness trapped in torment.

I swallow hard, torn but resolute. “End it,” I whisper.

Dominic nods, his movements slow but deliberate as he approaches Roman. The crack is brief, violent, and final.

Then Dominic stumbles away to lean heavily against a wall, his claws retracting with an audible click as he struggles to catch his breath. His shoulders tremble with the weight of his exhaustion, his broad frame sagging like a fortress on the verge of collapse.

“Dominic?” My voice wavers as I take a cautious step toward him. His face is pale, his green eyes dull, and the ferocity that had driven him moments ago has drained away like water slipping through cracks in stone. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head slightly as though he can’t afford the energy to respond. Slowly, he slides down the wall until he’s sitting, his back pressed against it for support. The sight sends a jolt of fear through me. Dominic never looks weak—not like this.

“Dom, talk to me,” I plead, kneeling beside him. “You’re scaring me.”

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips, but it’s brittle and fleeting. “I told you. . .this marriage was always going to end one way,” he says, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “In death.”