Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate
Chapter 156: All Bark, No Bite?

Chapter 156: All Bark, No Bite?

By the time the sun was nearing its peak, the werewolf pack was already in full uproar.

Anger simmered through the ranks, and several werewolves set off to confront Thorin, demanding answers.

But Charna was one step ahead. She had already sprinted to his side to warn him of the brewing chaos, giving him a chance to prepare his response.

A large crowd of furious werewolves stomped their way toward Florian’s hut, the ground practically trembling beneath their feet. Strangely enough—especially for werewolves—they knocked on his door.

Despite the rage that boiled over, they maintained some semblance of manners, which was downright bizarre under the circumstances.

With no response, the knocking escalated into banging, the door rattling under the force.

Inside, Florian was sound asleep, blissfully unaware. But the dark voice in his head nudged him awake, warning him about the incoming threat.

Florian rubbed the sleep from his eyes, groggy and confused, as if he’d just woken from a pleasant dream instead of into a mob’s fury.

After last night’s feast, he’d slept like the dead—pun intended—and for a moment, he forgot about his usual routine of barricading himself away.

But things were different now. He had promised himself no more running, no more hiding. So, with a deep breath, he opened the door to face whatever storm awaited him.

The werewolves erupted into a frenzy the moment Florian cracked the door open. Voices overlapped in a chaotic chorus of rage, their shouts blending into a deafening roar.

Half-asleep and still groggy, Florian struggled to make sense of the angry mob in front of him. His head pounded as he tried to grasp what they were even yelling about.

All he could gather was that they were furious—beyond furious—and they wanted him gone. Now.

Some werewolves weren’t just calling to kick him out of Wintertooth. Their eyes burned with hatred as they demanded justice the werewolf way.

"Killer!"

"Murderer!"

"Get out of our territory this instant!"

"You don’t deserve to breathe another second!"

Florian had no idea why the werewolves were so furious, but the dark voice in his head wasted no time offering an explanation.

"They’re looking down on you," it hissed. "They think you’re weak. A helpless kid. Wimpy. Powerless. Prove them wrong!"

Fueled by the voice’s taunts, Florian crossed his arms and smirked. "All bark, no bite, huh? If you’re so tough, why don’t you come at me?"

The werewolves hesitated. They weren’t warriors—just hunters, everyday pack members.

And they knew, deep down, that vampires were stronger. Faster. Especially after Riona’s little display of power the other day.

Even so, their anger burned, but beneath it lay the undeniable instinct to avoid a fight they knew they couldn’t win.

Florian sneered, flashing his fangs with a low growl. "What’s the matter? Scared? Go wag your tails somewhere else. Don’t waste my time with empty threats if you’re too afraid to face me."

The werewolves hesitated, clearly rattled, but their restraint didn’t last long. From the back of the crowd, two figures broke through, charging at full speed.

"I’LL KILL YOU!" the male werewolf bellowed, fury in his eyes.

"Give me back my child!" screamed the female werewolf, her claws extended, ready to tear into him.

Her voice cracked with grief, but her rage sharpened her every movement as she lunged straight for Florian.

The parents of the deceased child stormed into Florian’s hut like a couple of angry bull elephants.

The dad was quick, but Florian was quicker, dodging the attack with a half-awake grace. Meanwhile, the werewolf mother crept in from behind, ready to trap him with their classic one-two punch.

Florian leaped, delivering a swift kick to the dad while simultaneously hurling himself toward the mom. They rolled out of the hut together, crashing into the bright sunlight.

The moment Florian’s skin hit the rays, it felt like he’d stuck his arm in a toaster. He scrambled for shade. His vampire instincts screamed at him to escape the burning heat.

But the werewolves were relentless. With tears streaming down their faces and a barrage of curses, they charged at him with a deadly fury. More werewolves joined them.

Florian threw punches at the furious couple in quick succession, while avoiding the others. He was surprisingly calm for someone in a life-or-death situation, but the sun was becoming a serious issue.

Hissing in pain, he felt the heat burn his skin.

In a desperate move, he extended his hands toward the werewolves, summoning black, diamond-like spears that shot toward them.

Unfortunately for him, these werewolves were not exactly slow; they dodged the projectiles with impressive agility, leaving Florian cursing under his breath.

Florian pulled his shirt over his head and started grabbing oversized leaves to cover his arms, as if in the middle of an impromptu skincare session.

Meanwhile, the werewolves weren’t about to let him work on his DIY sunblock in peace—they growled and charged, pushing him further into the sun.

The young vampire kept retreating, trying to dodge their attacks, but soon found himself completely surrounded.

Knowing how vulnerable he was to sunlight, the werewolves made sure not to give him even an inch of shade.

They didn’t have to lift a claw—just wait for the sun to finish what they’d started, slow-roasting him like a vampire BBQ.

But of course, big sister Riona wasn’t about to let that happen.

With a dramatic entrance, she swooped in, throwing herself between Florian and the pack.

She was the only one still holding onto hope, clinging to the idea that the sweet, innocent Florian of old was still in there somewhere, even if all the signs pointed to the contrary.

Denial was strong, and she wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

Riona summoned her red arrows, forming a protective barrier around herself and Florian, blocking the werewolves from getting any closer.

She then hurriedly slipped off her outer vest and draped it over Florian’s head, shielding him from the sun.

"Don’t do this, please," she begged.

The werewolf mother collapsed to the ground, her wails piercing the air as she beat her chest in anguish. "My son is dead because of him!" she cried, her grief raw and consuming.

"You killed my son!" the werewolf father roared, his voice thick with fury.

Riona winced, feeling the weight of their pain even though she had no children of her own. She swallowed hard, trying to strike a balance between defending Florian and acknowledging their loss.

"It was an accident," she said softly, trying to ease the blame off Florian without adding fuel to the fire. "I’m sorry."

Florian’s tone turned cold and defiant. "It’s not my fault. Your son practically asked for it. I mean, who walks into the middle of a fight? Was he stupid or something?"

Riona’s heart dropped. She stared at her brother in disbelief, unable to process the sheer cruelty of his words. Even she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.