Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate-Chapter 340: The Voice in the Dark

Riona froze.

The thing wearing her brother’s face smiled wider, teeth too sharp. Florian’s familiar features twisted with malice, his eyes hollow pits lit by the flickering flame. The demon’s presence radiated like heat from a forge—corrupting, warping, wrong.

Puck stepped in front of her instinctively, torch raised, his posture ready to spring.

"Florian," Riona said, swallowing hard.

She had imagined this moment a thousand times—reuniting with her brother. But never like this.

Before she agreed to Lady Maris’s plan... before she came to this cursed place... she had told herself she could do it. She would kill the demon and save Florian. She knew what it was capable of—that it could steal her brother’s voice, wear his face like a mask, speak in his tone, even laugh the way he used to.

But knowing it, and seeing it...

Seeing it was different.

"That’s not Florian," Puck growled, stepping protectively beside her, his eyes locked on the twisted mockery standing in the gloom.

Riona didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Because she knew he was right.

The thing before them wasn’t Florian. The real Florian was buried somewhere deep inside that stolen flesh, his soul shackled beneath the demon’s will.

But it was still his body. If she destroyed it... she might destroy him, too. Her heart ached. Her vision blurred for a second. Her fists clenched.

"Florian," she whispered again, louder this time. "I know you’re in there."

Puck’s voice cut in, sharp with warning. "Riona, don’t—"

She didn’t hear him.

The ache to see her brother, to hold him, to apologize for taking so long—it surged past every instinct for caution, past every plan and promise. She stepped forward, drawn to the familiar eyes, the face twisted by something that wasn’t him.

"Riona, no!" Puck shouted, lunging toward her, reaching out to stop her—

But she was already moving, slipping beyond his grasp, stepping into the dark. The shadows swallowed her whole.

Behind her, Puck stumbled forward, the torchlight in his hand flickering wildly as he turned in frantic circles. "Riona! Riona!"

Her name echoed off the stone. But she was gone.

***

It was dark—oppressively so—but Riona could feel it. The presence. Heavy and coiled, watching her. Then it spoke.

Its voice slithered through the shadows, low and taunting, designed to reach her ears and hers alone. Puck’s distant shouts were muffled now, too far to intervene.

"He doesn’t want you," the demon murmured. Each word dripped with venomous delight.

It knew the truth—or at least what it believed to be true. That Florian was gone. That his soul had already been consumed. But revealing that too early would ruin the game.

Don’t listen. He called for me. He wanted my help. She repeated it like a mantra, clinging to it.

But guilt slipped in anyway, silent and insistent. No matter how often she reminded herself, the doubt always crept back in.

You were too late.

"You dimmed his light with your hypocritical help," Ol’gaz hissed.

Riona flinched. She still couldn’t see him, but she could imagine the expression it wore—her brother’s face, twisted into something cruel and knowing.

"You smothered him with your ’sisterly love,’ your noble purpose. All the while, keeping him beneath your shadow."

The darkness seemed to press in closer.

"Your absence," it whispered, voice like a blade sliding beneath her ribs, "was the only blessing you ever gave him."

Riona’s breath hitched. Was that true?

No.

But the doubt didn’t stop echoing.

"...na..."

A faint voice wove through the shadows, barely more than a breath. Too soft to reach Riona’s ears. Too soft to pierce the storm inside her.

She was drowning—not in darkness, but in something deeper. Guilt. Regret. A haunting, gnawing voice that didn’t belong to Ol’gaz alone. It was the voice within her—the monster shaped by years of self-blame.

"...iona..."

Again, the voice called. Closer this time. Desperate. But still, it couldn’t reach her.

Ol’gaz’s voice slithered through her mind like rot through roots.

"You could have been a good sister," it whispered. "Just once. That’s all it would’ve taken. But you couldn’t even give him that."

Its voice was Florian’s now. Soft. Familiar. Cruel.

"You should’ve left him alone. He was meant for more than you could ever offer. Something greater. Something beyond you. He doesn’t need you, Riona. He never did."

She clenched her fists.

That’s not true. Her mind flared with defiance, but her heart trembled. She knew it was a lie—twisted words crafted to cut, to manipulate. And still... part of her wanted to believe it. To surrender. Because if the demon was right, then maybe she didn’t have to carry the weight of failure anymore.

But then—

"RIONA!"

This time, the voice cracked through the dark like lightning.

Puck.

Clear. Real. Undeniable.

Her breath caught. Her eyes blinked open, as if she hadn’t even realized they’d been closed. She felt the burn of tears on her cheeks.

"Puck..." she whispered.

And for the first time since she stepped into that abyss, she remembered who she was.

She wasn’t just a sister. She was a flame. A force. She had come to save Florian, not bury him under the weight of her own guilt.

"UARRRGHHH!!" Riona screamed, her voice tearing through the shadows.

Her fists trembled as blinding red flames surged to life in her palms, dancing and crackling with raw fury. She leapt high, propelled by desperation and power, and hurled the fire down at the demon below.

Florian’s body twisted unnaturally, dodging with inhuman speed—too fast. Far faster than it should’ve been. He bared his fangs in a savage grin and vanished from her line of sight. No—he circled back.

Riona turned just in time to see him lunging from the side, his mouth open wide, fangs gleaming with hunger. A predator closing in on his prey.

She barely raised her arm in time.

They collided midair—flesh and fire, fury and guilt. Riona forced the pulsing flame into her palm and slammed it against his back as they crashed together.

A burst of heat. A scream. A thunderous impact.

Across from her was the demon—Florian’s body. His shirt half burned by her fire. The skin around the burned area was sizzling. She had hurt her own brother. The realization hit her hard.

They tumbled across the stone floor, locked in a chaotic roll, until they escaped the darkness and crashed into the staircase leading to the chamber, where Puck stood with the flickering torchlight.

Gasping, Riona pushed herself up to her feet, her vision spinning. Her body screamed in protest.

Across from her, the demon rose, still wearing Florian’s body. His shirt was half-burned, scorched black from the fire. The skin beneath sizzled, blistering. Smoke curled from the wound. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

She had hurt him.

Even knowing it was the demon inside, the realization knocked the air from her lungs. She had burned her brother.

Her knees nearly gave out. Before guilt could drag her under again, Puck’s voice snapped through the haze. "Riona—your arm!"

She looked down.

Blood. Puncture marks. His fangs had sunk into her arm.

She hadn’t even felt it in the chaos, but during the collision, while her fire struck him, he had struck back. Silent. Precise.

He drank from me.

A wave of dizziness crashed over her. The world tilted. Her limbs went weak, and before she could steady herself, Riona’s body gave out. She fell backward.