Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate
Chapter 153: Network of Enemies

Chapter 153: Network of Enemies

Starving didn’t just leave Florian weak—it left him mentally fried, too. With zero energy left, he was basically a buffet for the dark voice lurking in his head.

Little by little, he could feel himself slipping away, morphing into this snarky, shadowy voice. It wasn’t just in his head—he was becoming that voice.

He grew restless, unable to sleep, irritated by the smallest things. The echo of his own footsteps annoyed him. The faint draft slipping through the cracks in the window and door enraged him. Even his own inability to find peace fueled his growing fury.

It felt as though the dark voice had seized control of his body.

"I’ve taken your body? Don’t kid yourself," the voice sneered, its venomous words curling in his mind. "You’re not possessed—you’re becoming me."

Florian knew something was terribly wrong. But admitting it, acknowledging this terrifying transformation, was more than he could bear. He was too afraid to face the truth.

Desperate to drown out the voice, he lashed out. He hurled the broken chair across the room, tore apart the bed, and battered his fists against the walls in a frenzy.

No matter how hard or how many times he screamed, pleading for the voice to leave, it remained, entwined with every thought, every breath.

Florian felt like he was being split into two miserable versions of himself. One side was permanently pissed off, the other was perpetually terrified.

Neither of them even vaguely resembled the old Florian.

That naive young vampire, once full of optimism, had vanished the moment he left the royal palace.

As if battling his inner demons—and the ever-persistent dark voice—wasn’t exhausting enough, chaos erupted outside his room.

His irritation skyrocketed. The veins in his neck throbbed as he yelled, "Shut up! Could you not make so much noise for once?"

But the screaming and frantic footsteps continued, completely ignoring his meltdown. To top it off, his stomach growled like it had plans of its own.

"Why don’t you just open the door and drain them already?" the dark voice chimed in, dripping with sarcasm. "They’re basically animals. Come on, don’t be a wimp. Or are we really going to sit here and starve?"

Florian clenched his fists, feeling the pull of hunger and madness creeping closer by the second.

His hand hovered over the door handle, practically begging to be turned. He was so close to letting his primal instincts take over and draining the werewolves dry.

But just as he was about to give in to his dark side, he summoned every last ounce of willpower and turned away.

Instead of feasting on fresh blood, he opted for the synthetic stuff from the Crimson Vitae Workshop.

He downed every last drop from the stacked packages in his room, slamming down three gallons like he was at an all-you-can-drink blood buffet.

Yet somehow, his thirst remained stubbornly unquenched, as if it were mocking him.

As he pondered how to tackle this never-ending hunger, Puck knocked on the door. Florian swung it open, and for a split second, he nearly lost it and pounced on Puck instead.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped back to regain some semblance of control. But then Puck launched into a passionate speech about staying indoors, danger, and various threats.

Florian couldn’t focus on Puck’s ramblings when his stomach was waging war.

It was only when Puck expressed his concern about Florian’s appearance that the last straw snapped.

The voice in Florian’s mind slithered in, "Look at him—he’s judging you. All the werewolves do, and Puck’s just been a master at hiding it. But now you see the truth."

That’s when Florian exploded. He shoved Puck out of the room, unleashing a string of curses. Clearly, he was not in his right mind. To him, Puck’s face twisted into an unmistakable mockery.

It was as if the dark voice had been right all along. Florian had been so blinded by the illusion of friendship that he couldn’t see the harsh reality staring him in the face.

When Florian saw his sister, his anger didn’t wane; if anything, it intensified. The effect Riona used to have on him had clearly faded.

To him, she was nothing more than a coward. Seriously, it was the first time he’d ever seen her back down from a potential fight, and it was downright shocking. This wasn’t the sister he admired.

Disappointment welled up in his chest, and he couldn’t help but look down on her. Riona had once been this grand figure he idolized, but that image was crumbling fast. If she wanted to choose cowardice, that was on her.

Florian, however, was ready to make his own choices.

He’d much rather take on the anti-vampire werewolves and challenge them. Let’s see how these beasts fared against a vampire.

The dark voice had been working wonders on him, boosting the confidence of a young vampire with practically zero combat experience.

It was almost impressive how easily it convinced him he could take on the world—or at least a few werewolves.

Florian strolled through the chaotic pack of frantic werewolves, moving in slow motion. It was all very dramatic—Riona would’ve been there with her sarcastic commentary if it weren’t her brother basking in the spotlight of chaos.

He bared his sharp fangs, hissing at the pups, who immediately yelped like they’d just seen a ghost. His actions were completely uncalled for, but in Florian’s mind, he was merely defending his dignity from a sea of judgmental furry faces.

On his quest to find Thorin and his anti-vampire relatives, he nearly picked fights left and right. It was a quick outing, but somehow, he managed to establish a network of enemies—talk about efficiency!

Eventually, he ran into Morgan and her crew. She didn’t just waltz in with her signature confidence and those ridiculously thin eyebrows; she also brought along a bunch of muscle-bound werewolves, clearly hoping to intimidate the young vampire.

"Didn’t your Alpha tell you to hide in your room like a coward? You know, because that’s the foolproof way to stay safe!" Florian taunted.

He sounded just like the dark voice in his head because, well, it was the dark voice speaking through him. He was merely echoing its malevolent script.

"We’re here on the lookout, Little Snob! We can’t have everyone thinking only of themselves in a crisis, can we? After all, we’re not vampires!"

Morgan paused for an effect before asking what she really wanted to know.

"And what are you doing wandering around when you’re supposed to be cowering indoors? Is it possible to go from being mute to being deaf?" Morgan rambled on.

Florian just smirked, treating her like a minor annoyance not even worth the effort of a proper comeback. "I’ll face the threat head-on. I’m not a coward. I’m no werewolf, after all."

Just as Morgan unleashed her claws and prepared to leap at him, a booming voice echoed through the chaos, halting her mid-pounce.

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