Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate
Chapter 210: The Puppet’s Last Stand

Chapter 210: The Puppet’s Last Stand

Puck and Thorin went ahead to assess the damage Wintertooth had taken, and they were left stunned.

The place looked like a battlefield—nothing short of a disaster.

"That vampire practically invited chaos. Even after she left, the knights just kept going at it," one of Riona’s loyal anti-fans tattled with exaggerated resentment—or maybe not exaggerated since he lost his own house.

Puck and Thorin exchanged a glance that said everything. They both knew this wasn’t about Riona or Florian—it was Nina’s move all along. Thorin’s aunt had never intended to let him take control of the pack. This was part of her plan, from the start.

"So that’s why she was so confident," Puck murmured, finally connecting the dots to Nina Zacharia’s devious scheme.

More than half the huts were reduced to rubble. The remaining werewolves worked tirelessly to rebuild what they could, especially to provide shelter for the pups.

For the past few days, the most vulnerable had been squeezed into the safest place they had—Thorin’s office. Meanwhile, the injured had been placed in other shelters like Thorin’s personal hut, Puck’s, and Riona’s.

They were about the only remaining huts large enough to house a group of werewolves.

Thorin and Puck wasted no time pitching in to help with the rebuilding. As they worked, Thorin paused to ask, "What about the casualties?"

The werewolf filling him in turned grim, his expression heavy. "A lot. Over twenty lives lost... and more than twice that injured."

Thorin exhaled a long, weary sigh. It was a low blow, even for Nina.

Attacking his home while he wasn’t there to defend it was calculated, but exactly her style. She’d always seen Wintertooth as a liability, and this attack had been her way of trying to erase it altogether.

"I’d kill her myself, if she weren’t already halfway there," Puck muttered darkly, as though Nina’s fate was already sealed.

Thorin raised a brow at his friend’s bluntness but didn’t disagree. They both knew Riona hadn’t killed Nina outright, but it was only a matter of time.

Without allies or reinforcements—most of her knights had been wiped out—there was no way she’d recover from her injuries. Nina’s days were numbered, and frankly, no one here was about to shed a tear when that number hit zero.

The older werewolf furrowed his thick eyebrows. His age gave him the air of a self-proclaimed father figure within the pack. Unfortunately, wisdom hadn’t exactly been his strong suit.

He had jumped at every chance to align himself with Vesper, one of Riona’s loudest critics, and had been a vocal opponent of the rescue mission.

In his mind, risking more lives to save the person he saw as the root cause of Wintertooth’s downfall was not just reckless—it was outright stupidity.

"I don’t get it," he grumbled, picking up a bundle of bamboo. "Zane must have lost his mind. Charna? Fine, I can blame Trudy’s influence on her—friendships can be pretty dangerous sometimes. But Zane is a Zeta! He’s supposed to be the one knocking common sense into everyone else."

He sighed dramatically as if he carried the weight of the world—or at least the bamboo—on his shoulders.

"And look where that got us! Trudy almost died! She’s as stubborn as a rock and just as foolish. Zane should’ve stopped her instead of going along with her careless plan."

The way he talked, it was as if the vampire he was so eager to blame wasn’t Thorin’s lover. Thorin clenched his jaw, his patience thinning with every word. He regretted ever thinking his pack had moved past such behavior. It was a sharp reminder of how much work was still ahead of him.

"Riona sacrificed herself to protect your children. Need I remind you of that?" Thorin’s voice was cold, sharp, and dangerous, cutting through the air like a blade.

The older werewolf froze, the color draining from his face. Without a word, he shifted the bamboo onto his shoulder and hurried away, deciding that silence—and a lot of manual labor—was the best way to avoid Thorin’s wrath.

"Uh, that’s a bit dramatic. Maybe the word you’re looking for is ’redeemed,’ not ’sacrificed.’" The grating voice belonged to someone whose life Thorin had once spared, back when he was in a good mood.

Now that his mood had soured, Thorin figured it might be time to put things—and certain punishments—back in order.

He turned slowly to face Vesper, the owner of that irritating voice. "Vesper! I was hoping you were one of the casualties."

Vesper was, admittedly, one of the stronger members of the pack, but Thorin’s anger refused to let him acknowledge that. His jaw tightened, and his fists clenched as he stared the man down.

"Oh, Thorin, really? You think I’d go down that easily? I was one of them," Vesper shot back with a shrug, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He wasn’t about to delve into the less-than-heroic details of his survival—how Garmin had tossed him aside, leaving him unconscious long enough to miss the worst of the battle. Some stories were better left vague.

"The Zacharias’s useless puppet," Thorin growled. "Don’t kid yourself, Vesper. My family never saw you as an equal. No one—no one—is on equal footing with Nina Zacharia. You were nothing more than a pawn."

Thorin’s sharp eyes flicked to the wounds covering Vesper’s body, showing that he’d joined the fight against the Zacharias’s knights.

Maybe Vesper did care about Wintertooth in his own way, but Thorin couldn’t overlook the fact that his recklessness had almost led to its destruction.

"There’s a reason you’re not the Alpha, Vesper," Thorin hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "Your judgment is terrible. You don’t wag your tail for a new master and then come crawling back, expecting the old one to welcome you home with open arms."

Vesper stood there, silent and visibly uncomfortable under Thorin’s piercing glare. If the wounds from the battle didn’t sting, Thorin’s words certainly did.

"Oh, my bad. Must’ve been my fault for letting you think otherwise," Thorin said, his tone icy and deliberate.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and Vesper until they were uncomfortably close. The move wasn’t accidental—it was intimidation, plain and simple.

"You’re banished from Wintertooth," Thorin declared, his voice leaving no room for debate.

Vesper’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding as he absorbed the words. Before he could respond, Morgan rushed to his side, her face pale with shock.

"Thorin, you can’t do that! He’s been with us since the beginning. Don’t you have any loyalty to your own? Or is your loyalty only to that vampire?!"

Thorin snorted at her words. "Loyalty?" he echoed, amusement dripping from his voice. "Coming from you, Morgan, that’s rich."

He turned back to Vesper, his expression growing more serious.

"This is my last mercy for you. I don’t have it in me to kill you—consider that a gift. But hear me now." His voice dropped to a dangerous tone. "If you so much as think about harming my lover, I won’t hesitate. I’ll end you right then and there."

Cornered and feeling utterly betrayed after everything he thought he had done for the good of Wintertooth, Vesper mustered his courage and shouted, "I demand a Trial of Claim!"