Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate
Chapter 198: Trudy’s Last Tango

Chapter 198: Trudy’s Last Tango

Barmin nearly stumbled but managed to hold his ground, bending his knees to get a grip—literally.

Trudy came at him full force, but he sidestepped like he was at a dance rehearsal, and in a split second, he had her wrists in a death grip. Well, almost.

Before he could pull off his grand move, Trudy spun out of his grasp and slipped behind him like she’d rehearsed it. But Barmin was already a step ahead.

As Trudy’s feet hit the ground, Barmin’s claws were right there to welcome her. They dug straight into her stomach, turning her insides into a horror of shredded werewolf.

"Trudy!" Charna yelled as she witnessed the whole scene.

Blood poured out of her, and Trudy lost her balance, slipping off the carriage. As if the gut wound wasn’t enough, she smacked her head on the sharp corner of the carriage for extra trauma.

Now her big, curly hair was matted with blood, her face was practically painted red in a horrifying way.

With one last effort, she pushed herself up on her left hand, holding her shredded stomach with her right to try to keep all her vital organs where they were supposed to be.

She coughed up more blood and then, predictably, collapsed back onto the ground.

The whole time, Riona was stuck inside the carriage. At first, she had no clue what kind of mess was happening outside—just that it was loud and chaotic.

The knights crammed in with her tried to act all calm, giving her some half-hearted "Oh, it’s just bandits" excuse.

Honestly? Riona wouldn’t have minded if those bandits took care of these werewolves for good. Actually, that would make her day.

She’d be free to head back to Wintertooth, hang with her friends, and not worry about the Zachs’s little pack of goons coming back to mess with the pups.

Even when her carriage shook violently—because, of course, Barmin decided the roof was the perfect place for his dramatic one-man show—Riona didn’t bat an eye.

She didn’t even consider peeking out the window. Why bother? Who in their right mind would be curious about whatever nonsense was unfolding outside?

She was perfectly happy sitting still while the werewolves scrambled around trying to protect her.

The fight would end eventually. Either way, Riona came out on top. If the Zachs’s army got wiped out, great—freedom! If they beat the bandits, fine—she’d be safe... for now. Win-win.

But then, someone had to ruin her peace by yelling Trudy’s name. That got her attention. She whipped around, her thoughts racing. Wait. Did she hear that right? Weren’t they fighting bandits? Had the werewolves lied?

Her eyes narrowed at the knights, glaring daggers at their clueless faces. "It’s not bandits, is it?" she hissed, her voice low and dripping with menace.

Oh, she was angry. Riona had a short fuse on the best of days, and today was no exception.

"If the General says it’s bandits, then it’s bandits!" one knight snapped, clearly irritated by Riona’s suspicions.

Big mistake.

Riona didn’t just take it badly—she launched herself at him, pinning his neck with her forearm like she’d been waiting for an excuse all day. One leg braced on the seat, she leaned in so close their noses practically touched.

If Thorin had been there, he’d probably be growling in a jealous rage at the proximity. But lucky for this spineless furball, Thorin wasn’t around—and Riona would rather vomit her brain out than kiss this cowardly mutt anyway.

Had she known what kind of mess these weaklings were actually dealing with, she’d already be outside handling it herself. But no, they had to keep her in the dark—probably afraid she’d use her power and wipe them all with her terrifying power.

"Listen here, boy." It was justified for her to call him a boy because Riona was far, far older than any of these werewolves here. "I’m not in the mood for games. On a scale of one to ten, I’m sitting at furious. So spill the truth, or I’ll snap your pretty little neck!"

For the record, his neck wasn’t little, and it sure wasn’t pretty, but Riona didn’t care. The point was made: she wasn’t messing around, and she’d say whatever it took to scare these overgrown puppies into submission.

"Y-yes. It’s the w-werewolves from Win—Wintertooth," the knight stuttered, practically choking on his own words.

Riona didn’t even blink. She just glared at him—then punched him square in the face. Not for answering, mind you, but for the answer. He should have been honest from the start.

Nah, that wouldn’t make any difference. Riona would still have punched him in the face, anyway.

The knight promptly fainted, which—honestly—was probably Riona’s idea of showing mercy. She didn’t have time for this nonsense.

She turned her death glare on the other knight, who was now trying to be a hero by reaching for her. Big mistake.

Riona was faster than a greased weasel in that tiny carriage, slipping to the side like she had all the room in the world while the poor werewolf stumbled over his own giant paws.

He kept banging into the walls, looking like an oversized puppy trying to chase its tail. Meanwhile, the fainted knight was sprawled out like a ragdoll, taking up way too much space.

It was almost like he wanted Riona to have the upper hand.

Riona kicked the werewolf, and he went stumbling backward, hitting both his back and head in an impressive display of coordination.

She turned toward the door, about to make her grand escape, when—of course—the knight decided now was the perfect moment to cling to her like a needy puppy.

He grabbed her ankle and yanked her toward him. Okay, fine, he was strong. Strong enough that Riona ended up landing on top of his chest. Great.

Their faces were uncomfortably close, and Riona felt like she might lose her lunch. The only face she was willing to be this close to was Thorin’s—the love of her life, not this furry idiot.

Surprised and thoroughly disgusted, Riona shoved him away—though not exactly the way she intended. In reality, she shoved both him and the base of the carriage. Oops.

The unexpected surge of power turned the carriage into a pile of splinters, launching Riona into the air like a vampire missile.

There was a small explosion under her, just for flair. She flipped mid-air like some kind of acrobat, sidestepping a rock wall, and then landed with perfect grace... right in the middle of a bunch of dead werewolves.

Riona looked around with a grin that screamed I just saved the day—and then she noticed the familiar faces staring at her. To be fair, they didn’t look quite as thrilled as she’d hoped. In fact, they looked like they’d seen a ghost.

Are they that happy to see me again? she thought, soaking in the awkward vibe.

But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t her charm or magnetic personality. The reason their faces drained of color was because Riona was standing on top of someone they recognized. Someone who’d been all buddy-buddy with the vampire back in Wintertooth.

And that someone just happened to be Trudy, lying lifeless under Riona’s feet.