Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate-Chapter 298: The Intersection

The plan was simple: latch onto Riona like an overly ambitious barnacle, stick by her side until he was close enough to the demon, and then do whatever it took to make the creature submit to him.

Surely, if he stuck close to the Blood Moon child, King Valentin’s own niece, he’d be able to waltz through the palace gates without anyone hurling a spear at him. Right? frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

And then... waiting.

Of course, he had to forget that no matter how unconventional Riona was, she was still a woman preparing to leave. And that meant delays. Endless delays.

Kaan stood there, first bored, then irritated, then contemplating arson. Maybe if he set fire to the whole forest, she’d hurry up. Or maybe he should just drag her by the wrist and shove her into the carriage. He would deal with the fallout later.

"Who does she think she is? Making an emperor wait on her? Is she out of her mind?!" Thessara bellowed, fanning the flames of Kaan’s growing irritation.

The audacity! The sheer disrespect! Thessara wasted no time in condemning Riona for her outrageous behavior.

She launched into a full-blown rant about how unbelievably rude Riona was, completely ignoring the fact that back when Thessara was alive, entire armies had probably waited on her whims. But that was different.

This wasn’t about her. This was about that outrageously insolent Riona!

As much as waiting made Kaan want to set something (or someone) on fire, it did come with a tiny silver lining. Just as he was deciding between arson and kidnapping, a report arrived.

Apparently, they had discovered how to make the demon submit—well, not submit exactly. The word they used was ’communicate’, but Kaan saw no meaningful difference between communication and forcing someone to do what he wanted.

According to the scholars, since Ol’gaz was currently inhabiting a host—and considering he’d been trapped in that body for decades—the scholars suspected that the host had developed a life of his own, complete with feelings and memories.

The trick, they theorized, was to approach the host in order to get to the demon.

This was what the scholars called ’communicating with the intersection.’

To put it simply: picture two circles. One was the demon, the other was the host. Since they were crammed into the same body, their circles overlapped, creating a fun little Venn diagram of shared existence.

That was the intersection—a muddled, blended space where the demon’s essence mixed with the host’s personality.

And lucky for Kaan, that was the easiest part to manipulate. If the host was naturally amiable (or, better yet, a complete pushover), then his personality would seep into this intersection, making it much easier for Kaan to negotiate, influence, or—ideally—bend it completely to his will.

So, really, the solution was simple: If Florian had even the slightest tendency to be soft, trusting, or emotionally fragile, Kaan just found his way in.

"But would he listen to someone he’s never met? I heard he was soft—born timid," Kaan mused, going over the intel his spies had gathered on Florian. "But that just makes it even more likely he’ll shut me out. What if he doesn’t trust me yet? I don’t have time to build a whole heartfelt friendship with him."

The realization frustrated him. He had finally gotten the answer he was looking for, yet the timing might be all wrong. Just his luck.

Watching his growing irritation, Thessara—ever the helpful voice of reason (or insanity, depending on the day)—whispered, "Can’t you just force him to submit? You don’t need his trust for that. Why waste even more time?"

If she had a physical form, Kaan would have given her a look so sharp it could cut glass. But since she didn’t, he had to settle for mentally pushing her into the sun.

"What’s the point of leveraging the intersection if I’m just going to brute-force my way in anyway?"

Then, an idea hit him—ridiculous, a little unethical, but potentially genius. He needed confirmation.

Summoning one of the scholars who had been blending in as a knight, Kaan leaned in. "What if I force familiarity? Can I pretend to be someone close to him? Would that make it easier to get in?"

The scholar frowned, clearly not expecting that question. "I—uh—" He hesitated, then held up a finger. "I need a moment."

Without waiting for permission, he rushed off to confer with the rest of the scholars, who were scattered throughout the entourage for real-time intelligence.

Minutes later, the scholar reappeared, panting from what must have been a very heated academic debate. Still catching his breath, he explained, "There’s no historical evidence of it working, but in theory—yes. If you want to force familiarity, you’d need the blood of someone extremely close to the host or the demon. That blood would act like a... disguise, tricking them into thinking you belong."

Kaan arched a brow. "Blood, huh..."

The scholar nodded, still trying to catch his breath. "It must be someone really, really close. Otherwise, the effect will be weak—maybe even nonexistent."

Well, wasn’t that convenient? The person Kaan needed—someone really, really close to the host—was already here. In fact, he was currently waiting on her. No need for a wild goose chase, no need to hunt down some long-lost relative. The solution was standing right there.

Now, the real question was: how was he supposed to extract Riona’s blood without setting off alarms or, worse, making her suspicious?

He couldn’t exactly walk up to her and say, "Hey, mind if I borrow a few drops of your precious life essence? It’s for a totally non-nefarious reason, I promise."

Kaan paced back and forth, his mind racing. This was not the kind of problem the scholars could solve. Sure, they could tell him all about ancient magic, demonic intersections, and whatever nonsense they spent their lives obsessing over.

But when it came to practical, slightly illegal problem-solving? Useless.

Then there was Roderick, his so-called advisor, the man who was supposed to have all the answers. Except Roderick was only good for three things: running errands, making sure Kaan’s reputation didn’t go up in flames, and sighing dramatically whenever Kaan made a questionable life choice.

Unfortunately, when it came to morally gray, slightly questionable schemes, Roderick was entirely useless.

And if Roderick did find out? Oh, the lecture he’d give. "Your Majesty, you can’t just steal people’s blood! Have you considered diplomacy? Ethics? The consequences of your actions?" Blah, blah, blah.

Yeah, no. Involving Roderick was not an option. The man lacked the necessary vision. And by vision, Kaan meant the ability to shut up and let him commit mild crimes in peace.

Crafting devious strategies required Kaan’s mind and Kaan’s mind only. Well, mostly. Occasionally, Thessara’s unhinged brand of cunning proved useful—like right now.

"Why don’t you create a situation where you can extract her blood without raising suspicions?" she suggested, as if casually recommending a new recipe.

Oh, sure. Just create a situation. Like that was the easiest thing in the world. Should he trip and ’accidentally’ stab her with a dagger?

Kaan smirked. Fine. If a situation was needed, a situation he would create. And best of all? It didn’t have to be his hand holding the dagger.