Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate-Chapter 314: To Save One, To Save All

Lady Maris felt a pang of guilt that the king himself couldn’t be present to welcome the elders—the highest echelon of the vampire hierarchy. They had journeyed here in response to King Valentin’s own plea for aid, yet he was absent at the moment of their arrival.

She offered her apologies, but Madam Silvia was wise. She dismissed the concern with grace.

"His Majesty is injured," Silvia said calmly. "Given the circumstances, sparing him the strain of greeting us was the right decision. He will need every ounce of strength if we are truly heading toward war."

"War?" Griswold’s eyes widened at the word.

Of all things, the thought of war had never crossed his mind. Throughout the years of his life, his greatest worry as an original vampire, centuries old, was the possibility of his many ex-wives crossing paths. That was the kind of chaos he had feared.

But war... it was on another level of madness.

Elwin, who had remained quiet until now, finally spoke, his voice steady but thoughtful. "I understand the gravity of the situation. But we must also consider the toll this will take on our people. We’re facing not only a demon but an emperor who seeks to wield that demon as a weapon. If war breaks out between us, it will be catastrophic. There will be casualties. Are we truly prepared for that?"

Lady Maris gently squeezed her hand. "Forgive me, Your Excellency, but casualties are inevitable. Whether we acknowledge it or not, blood will be spilled."

Inwardly, she prayed the Nightshade Coven wouldn’t choose indifference. She couldn’t bear the thought of Florian being used to bring ruin upon the world. And though it felt fragile, she still clung to the hope—hope that someone, somehow, could save Florian without sacrificing him to kill the demon.

"That creature is a threat unlike any other," she pressed, gulping down her anxiety. "If left unchecked, it will bring about the end of everything far sooner than any of us can prepare for."

Her gaze swept over the elders, silently willing them to understand. She knew the key to slaying the demon without harming Florian lay with Riona. But Riona was still absent—likely still healing, still vulnerable.

Time was slipping away, and Lady Maris couldn’t allow herself the luxury of waiting, not now, not when she knew Emperor Kaan had already taken Florian from the palace.

"Rest assured, My Lady, we are not abandoning your kingdom, your king, or your people," Sandor said firmly, though his words earned a sharp glare from Griswold, who was still quietly scheming a way to slip out of this monumental responsibility. "We’re merely seeking a way to mitigate the risks."

Lady Maris’s grip eased at his reassurance. A small wave of relief washed over her. She wasn’t naïve—she could see the unease flickering in some of the elders’ eyes. Not everyone was pleased with how events were unfolding. But she had no room for hesitation. She had someone to save.

Ulysses glanced around the room, catching the hints of hesitation in his comrades’ eyes. But Sandor was right—this wasn’t the time to falter. They couldn’t turn their backs on fellow vampires in need. It was in moments like these that their strength was meant to be tested, and used.

"Very well," Ulysses said, his voice steady. "We need as much information as possible. If we’re to face both a demon and a vampire emperor, we must be thoroughly prepared."

Lady Maris nodded without delay and swiftly left the chamber. She knew much about Florian’s beginnings—how the queen had brought him into the world—but beyond his origin, her knowledge was limited.

The elders wouldn’t be satisfied with fragments of the past; they needed precise intelligence: the demon’s abilities, its vulnerabilities, anything that might give them an advantage.

Without wasting time, she summoned the servants who had worked in the northern tower, gathered witnesses who had seen Florian’s power firsthand, and called upon scholars who might shed light on the nature of Ol’gaz, the demon bound to him.

And beyond that, she was prepared to share everything she had learned—whispers from witches, her own encounters, and every scrap of knowledge she’d collected over the years.

But it still wasn’t enough. What she truly needed was for King Valentin to awaken and share his firsthand account of battling Florian. His experience held the crucial insights the elders were waiting for—details only he could provide.

***

"Mother!" Lisbeth called as she stepped into her mother’s office. She paused mid-stride, grimacing as she clutched her stomach.

Normally, vampires healed swiftly—Lisbeth was no exception. After the battle with the elders, she had needed only a few days to recover, and when she did, her strength typically returned in full.

But this time was different. Though she had regained consciousness, the ache still lingered, sharp and persistent.

It wasn’t just her injuries holding her back—it was the sheer force of her will. Her determination to stop Florian, to halt the demon within him, had driven her to awaken before her body was truly ready.

Limping toward her mother’s desk, she dragged herself forward, refusing to yield.

Lady Maris looked up, startled. In an instant, she was at her daughter’s side, supporting her gently as they made their way to the nearest sofa. She eased Lisbeth down carefully, concern etched across her face.

"When did you wake?" Lady Maris asked, her voice soft but urgent. "And why are you still in pain?"

Lisbeth shook her head firmly. "That’s not important. Mother, I heard the Nightshade Coven is here to aid us. And I know you’ve been gathering information about the demon." She paused, swallowing to ease the dryness in her throat before pressing on. "I can testify. I’ve fought him twice. I’ve seen firsthand how powerful he is."

Lady Maris didn’t need to be reminded—she knew well enough. But she had quietly hoped it wouldn’t come to this. If she involved Lisbeth, there was a real risk her daughter would be drawn into the war alongside them. The thought made her chest tighten. She bit her lower lip, but Lisbeth, ever perceptive, caught the hesitation.

"I know you’re worried for me, Mother," Lisbeth said gently, reaching out to take her hand. Her gaze was steady, unwavering. "And I’m grateful for that. But I am a fighter. And I am the princess of this kingdom. It would shame me to stand aside while others risk their lives to protect our people."

Her words stung, not out of reproach, but truth. Lady Maris felt a flicker of guilt for letting her fear overshadow Lisbeth’s courage. Her daughter was right—she was born a warrior, blessed with strength, bound by responsibility.

Lady Maris took a breath, composing herself, and gave a small nod.

"Very well," she said, her voice steadier now. "Let’s meet with the elders."