Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate-Chapter 308: The Monster They See

"They still do," King Valentin said.

Florian raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t understand. What was there to fear now that Asvaldur’s threat had been wiped out? ƒreewebɳovel.com

"You." The king met his gaze, his voice steady. "They fear you."

Florian’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t expected that. No, actually, deep down, he had—he just hadn’t wanted to admit it. Who was he fooling? He was the infamous Vampire Hunter, the killer of his own kind.

Why had he thought slaying another vampire in broad daylight would be any different? Just because he didn’t drink their blood? That didn’t change what he was—what he did.

He killed vampires. Just as Ol’gaz had always wanted.

Laughter erupted inside his head, the demon’s voice thick with amusement. "I told you, didn’t I? He wouldn’t even bat an eye," Ol’gaz hissed. He didn’t even hesitate. "In the end, you’re just a vampire killer. Like me."

Florian hadn’t even expected praise—just acknowledgment. Not of his strength, not of his victories. Just the simple recognition that he was not the monster Ol’gaz claimed he was.

"A nephew?" Ol’gaz sneered. "He doesn’t even see you as his subject. Whatever you’ve done for this kingdom is nothing compared to your sins."

I didn’t do those monstrous things. It was you who drank their blood. Not me.

The demon chuckled, his voice curling around Florian’s thoughts like smoke. "But you enjoyed it. Admit it—so did I."

Anger surged through Florian—at Ol’gaz’s taunting, at the festering disappointment in King Valentin. His palm slammed against the table with a resounding crack. His breath hitched, his chest heaved, and his wide, furious eyes bore into the king.

"I helped you!" he screamed.

Margrave Boris flinched, nearly stumbling backward at the sudden outburst. He had known about the demon’s presence and heard of Florian’s volatility, but never had he witnessed such raw fury.

The servants in the office stiffened, eyes wide with fear. At their trembling, King Valentin gave a dismissive wave, sending them scurrying out the door. Silence thickened the air, leaving only the margrave behind.

Florian’s breath came hard and fast, his bloodshot gaze locked onto the king. "I did it for you!" His voice cracked with rage. "You were drowning against the emperor’s men, and I—I—chose to help. I was being generous!"

And Ol’gaz reveled in it.

The boy who once cowered, too meek to meet a noble’s eye, now bared his teeth, demanding recognition. Whether Florian admitted it or not, he was changing—becoming his. And nothing delighted Ol’gaz more.

"Generous?" King Valentin spat the word with disgust. "You slaughtered your own kind and dare to call it generosity?"

Florian’s jaw tightened. Of all things, the king chose to nitpick that? He wasn’t here to debate semantics—he was here to make King Valentin see reason.

"If it weren’t for me, you’d still be struggling to deal with those knights!" He struck his chest with a clenched fist, his frustration boiling over. "They were trampling you! The emperor was twisting you into a puppet, and you just—stood there. Did nothing. If I hadn’t stepped in, Eira would have already slipped through your fingers."

King Valentin said nothing. His teeth ground together, his gaze unreadable. He was calculating. Weighing his options.

He could kill Florian right here, right now. It would be easy. Justifiable. The boy had already massacred a dozen vampires—no one would question the king for executing a killer.

As King Valentin steeled himself to strike, Florian was too consumed by his own battle—his relentless need for recognition.

Like Riona, King Valentin had left an indelible mark on his life. The only father figure he had ever known. And no matter how much he tried to deny it, some part of him still craved his approval.

Under Ol’gaz’s influence, that need had turned into something volatile, something uncontainable. He told himself it was survival—a way to secure his place in Eira—but deep down, it was simpler than that. It was fragile. Just like Lisbeth, Florian wanted to matter.

His fists clenched as his voice rang out, sharp and unrelenting. "Are you growing weak, Uncle?" He took a step forward, eyes burning. "You weren’t like this before. You commanded respect! You were a king people feared." His voice dripped with disdain. "And now, you grovel at the emperor’s feet like a beaten dog."

He scoffed. "Shame on you. You turn against your own people because you’re afraid Asvaldur will take away your throne."

King Valentin’s jaw tightened. His fingers twitched at his side.

"Don’t speak of the Eiran people as if you care," he said, his voice low and razor-sharp.

With a flick of his hand, an invisible force slammed into Florian, hurling him across the room. He slammed against the wall with a choked gasp.

Margrave Boris barely managed to sidestep the impact, stumbling before regaining his balance. Without hesitation, he moved to the king’s side, helping to keep Florian pinned—isolated, unable to use his power.

King Valentin clenched his fist, and Florian’s throat tightened in response. His legs flailed as he was lifted off the ground, back slamming against the wall, his body held aloft by the king’s invisible grip.

"You think you can slaughter innocent vampires and expect me to forget? To praise you for spilling more blood?" King Valentin’s voice was ice, his gaze unwavering.

Florian clawed at his neck, fingers grasping at nothing, desperate to break free from the unseen force strangling him. His vision blurred at the edges, his chest burning for air.

Nearby, Margrave Boris worked quickly, seizing Florian’s wrists. Most vampires needed their hands to use their power—without movement, Florian was as good as helpless.

He struggled against the crushing weight around his throat, forcing the words out between gasps. "I... did... it... for you..."

King Valentin’s expression darkened at Florian’s words, his patience snapping. With a sharp yank of his hand, he sent Florian hurtling across the room.

Florian crashed against the floor, coughing violently as black blood dripped from his lips.

"You should never have been born," King Valentin said coldly. "You’re a curse. I only spared you out of consideration for Maris. But you’re too great a risk—too dangerous to let live."

Florian pushed himself up, his breaths ragged—not from weakness, but from rage. His hands trembled at his sides, not with fear, but with fury.

"Is this how you repay me for my service?" he seethed. "I fought for this kingdom! And yet, you treat me like a monster!"

The guilt, the self-doubt, the self-hatred that had gnawed at him since Ol’gaz used his body to kill the innocent—gone. Swallowed whole by raw, unrelenting anger.

With a snarl, Florian bared his claws and lunged.

King Valentin’s eyes widened, caught off guard—but only for a moment. He raised his arm just in time, and Florian’s claws tore through his sleeve, barely missing flesh.

Florian landed lightly, eyes blazing. The only reason he had been overpowered before was because he had been unprepared. Now, he knew exactly what he was facing.

And he wouldn’t be pinned down again.