Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate
Chapter 181: What Do You Mean I’m Half-Werewolf?

Chapter 181: What Do You Mean I’m Half-Werewolf?

Vampires, in all their self-important grandeur, had one golden rule: showing emotion was for peasants. To them, wearing your heart on your sleeve was as crude as eating with your hands.

They floated through life with an air of untouchable grace, maintaining decorum even when forced to interact with less... refined creatures.

Then there was Riona. Half-werewolf, half-vampire, and 100% allergic to subtlety. She liked to blame it on her ’hot-blooded’ werewolf side—even though she had only learned about it a few seconds ago—as if that excused her from having zero poker face.

But honestly, whether vampire or werewolf, Riona had always been incapable of concealing her emotions. It was simply who she was.

When Riona heard the news about her parents—and the shocking nature of their deaths—staying calm was out of the question. Her eyes widened, her voice faltered, and she could barely form a coherent sentence.

How could she believe anything Vesper said? The man had no credibility.

But at the same time, this was the first real explanation she’d ever received about her parents’s possible murder, and it hit her like a punch to the gut.

Vesper was never one to miss a dramatic moment. He turned to the werewolves and threw his arms out like he was on stage.

"Listen up, everyone!" he shouted. "Why should we protect the child of a cowardly Alpha who sacrificed his own pack to save his skin?"

He gazed into their eyes with such conviction that you’d think he was handing down commandments from on high. And of course, because Vesper was nothing if not persuasive, a few heads started to nod.

"We werewolves stick together!" he bellowed. "We live together, we fight together, and we protect each other. We’re not like her—or her coward of a father!"

The werewolves exchanged uneasy glances, the seeds of doubt spreading like wildfire. Even those who had been somewhat sympathetic to Riona were starting to waver. Trudy looked around, feeling the shift.

"Wait, is this for real? She’s that Remus’s daughter?" someone muttered.

"What does that even matter?" Trudy jumped in, trying to salvage the situation before it spiraled any further. "It doesn’t matter who her father was!"

"I can’t believe it. She’s a halfling!" another voice said, dripping with disdain.

"That’s why she’s so strong! It wasn’t her at all, it was her father’s power. How cunning! She’s been using his legacy to trick us this whole time!"

Before Riona could get a word in, the murmurs turned into a steady buzz of accusation. The werewolves were whispering, glaring, and pointing in her direction.

"No wonder I’ve always felt something off about her. The fear, the distrust—it’s in her blood," someone sneered.

Charna stepped in, trying to calm the storm before it grew too violent. "That’s unfair! You can’t blame her for what her father did. She had no control over Remus’s choices—she wasn’t even born!"

But her plea fell on deaf ears. One werewolf, veins bulging, shot back, "Are you going to wait until she betrays us too? Until she sacrifices all of us, just like her father did?"

"So Remus didn’t just abandon his pack, he married a vampire too? Unbelievable! The rumors are true. Well, there’s no smoke without fire," another one growled.

"And she has the nerve to stand here like she belongs with us? How shameless can she be?"

The murmurs of suspicion quickly snowballed into full-blown shouts, and the mob mentality kicked into high gear. "Get her out of Wintertooth!" someone roared, and the rest of the crowd quickly followed suit. Apparently, Riona’s welcome was up.

The tide had turned, and it didn’t look like Riona had much time to stop it.

"Vesper was right! Why should we protect her when her father did nothing for our kind? He’s dead, sure, but we can still avenge our fellow werewolves through his daughter!" someone shouted, rallying the crowd against Riona with dangerous enthusiasm.

Now, let’s be honest: it was pretty standard werewolf business to fight each other for territory, but suddenly they were all ’pack solidarity’ when it came to kicking out a vampire. Nothing like a little self-righteous outrage to spice up the evening.

Riona watched in horror as the mob surged toward her, their voices growing louder and angrier by the second. The press of bodies knocked her off balance, and she hit the ground hard.

She could end it all right then and there—one magical blast, and they’d all be on the floor before they knew what hit them. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

After a lifetime as an outsider, the small taste of acceptance she’d felt here had been intoxicating.

For the first time, she’d thought maybe, just maybe, they saw her as one of their own. They’d played with her, laughed with her. The pups had even banged on her door, begging her to join their games.

But now? Those same pups were watching as their parents turned on her, trying to drive her out like she was some kind of monster.

How quickly they turn... she thought bitterly. Hours ago, they were smiling at her, and now they wanted her gone.

The taste of betrayal was sharper than anything she’d known. She had never felt it before—how could she, when she’d never had anyone to trust in the first place?

But now, it sank in deep. Betrayal stung only when you believed you had something real, something good. And in that moment, she realized just how fragile their acceptance had been all along.

As the mob started getting a little too enthusiastic, Barmin finally decided to act, lunging to grab Riona. But Zane grabbed his arm, stopping him cold. And just like that, the chaos reignited.

This time, Riona was right in the thick of it.

Despite Wintertooth’s werewolves turning their backs on her, Riona didn’t hold it against them. Her real enemies were the Zachs—the ones strutting around in their ridiculous uniforms, acting like they owned the place.

Tapping into her vampiric speed and werewolf strength, she cut through their ranks like a whirlwind, knocking down opponents faster than they could react.

Even as she fought to protect herself, dodging blows and kicking Zachs across the battlefield, she still found herself shielding Wintertooth’s werewolves. They might have betrayed her, but she couldn’t bring herself to let them fall.

Magical red arrows flew from her fingers, hitting the Zachs’s soldiers in all the right places and dropping them like sacks of potatoes.

The more she fought, the fewer soldiers there were standing, and pretty soon, they started looking like they were reconsidering this whole mission.

But, of course, no one wanted to admit they were scared—pride, or stupidity, or both.

Victory was practically in her pocket, but Barmin wasn’t ready to lose just yet. Oh no, he had to get creative—by pulling the absolute lowest move in the book.

Grabbing two young pups, he held them up by the necks like some kind of ridiculous-looking evil villain.

"Stop! If you still want to see them alive, surrender yourself!" he bellowed, hands ready to snap the pups’ necks like twigs.

Riona’s blood froze. In an instant, everything shifted. Victory was a breath away, but now, it hung on the edge of Barmin’s cruel grip.