Voss Beastars Novels & Stories

I slam the door behind me, leaving Terris inside. Ambling downstairs, I find the beast lounging on the settee with his eyes closed, too calm for my liking, like a lion ready to strike. He always keeps a gun with him, and right now, he is stroking his face from the nose up to his forehead with it repeatedly. His disposed gigantic trunk is heaving up and down from his massive breathing. He doesn't look approachable. I don't think I should talk to him right now. I should probably wait for him to calm down a little, if that is even deemed to happen.

Bankotsu once again blew onto his flower creating 3 beings that look like Version 6, Version 5, and Version 1 in their half-beast form. " Can't hurt your comrades! Can you?" " If they get in my way of me tearing you limb from limb then I say that they deserved it!" " How cruel!" "Struggling to fill your lungs You'll suffocate within this world you hate and There is nothing that you can do"

Alexis commented and Ginger became an adult man. "I'll help you, master." He stated then using the broomstick, the broomstick releases a lot of sharp woods and it stabs on the beast's legs. "Rawr!" Alexis releases a powerful electricity and it hit the beast. Aitan uses that time to use the vines again and tied the beast. Zylo, Arnoux, and Channon scratches the beast using their sharp claws. While Zaszer bites the beast's leg. Yuko and Yuka uses their dark thunder to hit the beast. Aitan uses a lot of vines to tie the beast down.

My stomach dropped as I stared at Dr. O'neil's smiling face. Behind him the rich darkness called to me and the beast's growls racked invisible claws down my back. This was no werewolf. Whatever it was, it wasn't of any world and there was Devon. The two scents confused me, I wanted to turn tail and run the hell out of that place.

We turn into the hotel grounds and the cars slow toward the entrance, and Enzo immediately squeezes forward into the gap again with a phone angled toward me showing a live feed of the ballroom interior. "Flamingo is still talking to the tattooed guy," he reports. "Big. Very inked. Orlov is not in the room yet." I glance at the feed. Then back at the road. "Flamingo." "Codename," Dante says, with the tone of someone explaining something obvious. "The Greek Princess is the Flamingo. Orlov is the Chipmunk." He pauses. "You are the Italian Stallion." Something happens in my chest that I cannot fully contain before it reaches my face. It is not a smile. It is adjacent to one. It escapes before I

he pointed to the first, “is a Skathryn. Fast. Agile. Goes for joints and arteries. You don’t kill it with brute force, you blind it. Take the eyes first. Then the throat.” He moved to the second, casually circling it. “This ugly motherfucker is a Drathos Beast. Scaled and resistant to most blades. But it’s slow. Stupid. There’s a gland beneath the tail joint. Hit it with fire or lightning, it’ll detonate. Boom. Pretty colors.”

“You’re just a parasite.” Vorath’s form rippled, and the arena shook, violet threads lashing out to form warriors—not mirrors or shadows, but ravenous beasts, their forms shifting, their jaws dripping with void. They lunged, and the group fought back. Kade’s claws slashed through one, but it reformed, its bite draining his strength. Selene’s spells burned, but the beasts absorbed her light. Lucas struck with his dagger, his movements desperate, while Bryan’s spectral form disrupted their ranks, but the beasts were relentless. Jessica faced Vorath, her glow straining against the hollowness. “You think you can feed on us? We’re stronger than your hunger.”

“Not any prey, but the wolf-blooded hybrid beast bred for brutality. There are two grades of this beast. Grade A, the aggressive one. They will charge, paralyze you, but not kill. Grade B, they are faster than the wind, and they will flee. To take them down, you must keep pace. Today, eighty-five beasts roam the field. Ten of them Grade A. Only eighty-five fangs will be claimed. Fifteen of you will be left with nothing and will be disqualified.” Her eyes sharpened as she leaned forward, voice like steel. “Remember this: only one can kill and claim a beast. Once slain, the beast dissolves into a fang, larger for Grade A, smaller for Grade B. These fangs are your proof.”

“I don’t know why. But I’ve served long enough to know that when Gorvane looks at someone the way he looks at you, it means one of two things: destruction, or something worse.” Kaerith’s fingers curled against the fabric of the dress. Her nails scraped the smooth silk. “I don’t want anything from him.” Madame Marita gave a dry smile. “That’s not the point.” She picked a stray curl from Kaerith’s shoulder. “The Beast doesn’t have affection. Not for his court. Not for his mate, Vythea. Not for his whores. And not for you. He takes what he wants, and when he’s done, there’s nothing left of who you were.”

I stepped out onto the quiet street, heels in one hand, and closed the door with a soft click that sounded too loud. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Then I remembered six weeks ago. Father’s study, that smell of old books and cigars. “You have one job, Zaria.” His voice had been calm, like he was carving out pieces of my life. He folded his hands on the desk like this was another business deal to him. “Produce a Voss heir. Do that and your mother’s inheritance is yours.” My throat tightened. “And if I don’t?”