Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate-Chapter 312: Wake Me When the World Stops Ending

"Florian..." Riona mumbled, clutching the fabric of Thorin’s sleeves like a lifeline, repeating her brother’s name over and over, wild-eyed, as if the sound alone could anchor her.

"Easy now. You’ve just woken up," Thorin murmured, steady but gentle. "You need to rest a bit more before we set out."

But she wouldn’t hear him—couldn’t. Her mind was still tangled in the shadows of her dream, unable to separate memory from reality. The darkness clung to her, as did the ache, sharp and real enough to leave her breathless.

"Because it is real."

The voice sliced through her haze—The Fallen One, answering the panic pulsing through her thoughts.

"Your brother is in grave danger. I’m not warning you out of caution anymore. He needs you. This is worse than it’s ever been."

"Florian!" Riona gasped, shaking her head, shoving at Thorin’s hold as she tried to scramble out of bed.

Thorin held firm. "Wait. You might not be strong enough yet. Please—just give it a moment."

Riona shook her head fiercely. The urge to leave, to tear herself away from this place, burned hot inside her, but her body wasn’t keeping up. She was still unsteady, disoriented.

"I have to go! I have to save my brother!" she cried, forcing herself to push past Thorin’s hold.

Thorin exhaled quietly, steadying her with both hands. He had never seen her like this before. Riona—sharp-tongued, quick-witted, always ready with a biting remark that could cut anyone down—was gone.

Stripped of her usual defenses, she seemed small now, all trembling desperation. It twisted something deep inside him.

Without a word, he pulled her into his arms. For a heartbeat longer, she struggled—but then her fight ebbed away, shoulders sagging as soft, broken sobs escaped her.

"Florian needs me," she whispered, her voice raw.

"I know," Thorin murmured, his hand gently pressing against the back of her head. "And we will save him. But first, we have to make sure you’re strong enough to face whatever’s waiting. Just for a moment. Can you do that for me?"

He eased back, catching her gaze, grounding her.

"Let us check on you first. Then, we’ll go. Together."

***

While the forest healer and the physician Thorin had summoned from the nearest town examined Riona, Thorin kept her occupied, sharing what he’d learned from Warren Zacharia.

Warren had retreated into hiding to protect himself, but before vanishing, he’d extended an offer to assist in toppling the emperor. It wasn’t out of familial loyalty—more a calculated act of revenge for the near-extermination of the Zacharias.

Still, Thorin knew better than to turn down help, no matter how self-serving the motive. Every ally counted now.

"The emperor killed your parents," Puck added grimly.

"And the vilest of your ancestors is standing behind that emperor," the Fallen One’s voice slithered close to her ear. "Chances are Emperor Kaan isn’t trying to save your brother. He’s planning to use him. Or rather, to use Ol’gaz."

"What?" Riona snapped, head jerking slightly. Her words, directed at the unseen voice, seemed instead like a sharp response to Puck.

Puck blinked, visibly puzzled. "What do you mean? Warren told us. Do you not believe him?"

It made sense to question it. Especially for Riona. She had left Zacharia’s castle in ruins—trust wasn’t something she’d hand over lightly. Warren could easily twist the truth, planting seeds to turn her against Emperor Kaan, which would jeopardize her purpose.

Riona waved Puck off casually. "No, I wasn’t talking to you."

She turned to the empty air beside her, voice sharp, eyes narrowed. "I asked you—answer me. Why did you say that? What do you mean Emperor Kaan wants to use my brother?"

Now it was the Fallen One’s turn to speak—to unravel his version of the story. He told Riona everything he knew about Thessara: the infamous, most malevolent vampire to have ever walked the earth, and in death, the most sinister of ancestors.

Only after Riona absorbed it all—from the weird mechanics of what it meant to be an ancestor, to how Thessara had risen to that rank despite the countless atrocities she committed in life—did she finally turn to Thorin and Puck, revealing the truth about the voice shadowing her.

"So... you’re telling me you’ve got an ancestor haunting you?" Puck asked, incredulous. "And he’s been tagging along all these years? Seriously? That’s creepy. What kind of ancestor stalks a mortal?"

"Excuse me?!" The Fallen One bristled, scandalized. "Stalker? Really? I’m a guardian! There’s a difference!" He shot Riona a desperate look, arms invisibly crossed. "Riona, come on—tell them. Set the record straight. I’m not some creepy stalker."

Riona wasn’t in the mood to spare the Fallen One’s pride. He’d been relentlessly nagging her ever since she’d left the royal palace five years ago—this was nothing more than a small, overdue payback.

"We don’t have time for this," she said flatly. "I’ve been unconscious too long. By now, Emperor Kaan has probably arrived in Eira. If Warren’s telling the truth, we can’t afford to trust him—or let him anywhere near Florian."

***

The first to arrive in Eira after Emperor Kaan vanished without a word—taking Florian with him—was a group of vampires who bore no trace of their age.

The original vampires. The Nightshade Coven. Timeless, ageless, and dangerous as ever. At their head rode Sir Kai, leading them through the city gates like shadows returning home.

They had been arguing nonstop on the journey. Grisswold had tried everything to sway Ulysses, urging him to turn back and return to their quiet, comfortable life. But Ulysses’ answer never changed.

"There will be no peace if the demon is unleashed," he said each time, voice calm but unyielding. "We need to see with our own eyes that the demon remains locked away. Only then can we go home—and only then will peace endure."

Sandor, ever the voice of reason, had reminded every member of the coven of their duty as the original vampires.

"We’re the strongest among all living vampires," he’d said bluntly. "I understand your desire to stay hidden, but power without responsibility is hollow. If we won’t step forward when we’re needed, we don’t deserve the position we hold. With great power comes great responsibility." freewebnøvel.com

Grisswold hadn’t bothered to argue back. He’d simply rolled his eyes, knowing full well Sandor was right.

For centuries, they had enjoyed the privileges of being the originals—the elite ten of the Nightshade Coven. The coven commanded the Nightwardens across the globe, reaping vast wealth from their influence. Politically, they stood at the top, their word law, their judgments final. No vampire on earth escaped their reach.

With that kind of power came obligation. They owed something to the vampire community they ruled over. Ensuring the demon remained contained was the bare minimum—the least they could do to justify the authority they wielded.