Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate
Chapter 219: "No."

Chapter 219: "No."

Riona clenched her teeth. She was wrong—nothing had changed. She still couldn’t stand her uncle. With her fists balled tight, she growled, "I want him back!"

"He doesn’t want to," King Valentin replied, standing still like a statue.

Whatever royal charm he’d once had was long gone, leaving him looking like someone who needed a nap, a vacation, or both. Sure, he was still intimidating but also tired. So, so tired.

Riona figured he’d been through a lot—probably something to do with the missing west tower, which used to show off how grand the palace was. But that wasn’t her problem. She wasn’t here for a tour of ruins. She was here for Florian.

Of course, that wasn’t going to be simple. She started marching forward, only to have the king move in an instant, blocking the alley with his broad frame.

"He refuses to see anyone," he said, like a string player stuck on the same tune.

"Your Majesty, you can say that a thousand times, but I’m still going to bring my brother back," Riona shot back.

It felt strange to call Florian her brother out loud, but in her heart, that’s what he was—and always would be.

King Valentin sighed deeply, like a man carrying the weight of the world—and maybe a few overdue responsibilities. He looked like opening his eyes took more effort than rebuilding the west tower.

Seriously, had this guy been awake since before the Nightshade Coven?

"Where will you take him? Do you even have a place to stay? I heard the werewolf’s cave was raided by the Alpha’s family," the king asked.

If he’d said this before Riona escaped the palace, she would’ve assumed he was being his usual smug self, doubting her ability to do anything without royal supervision. But now, it almost sounded like genuine concern. It made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

What’s with him? That’s what Riona wanted to ask, but King Valentin’s face made her stop.

For some reason, the king was clinging to Florian like he was the kingdom’s last drop of blood. Who was he so worried about, anyway? Florian? Or—heaven forbid—her?

"Why, Uncle? Are you suggesting I move back to this delightful kingdom and live with your daughter, whose greatest ambition in life is to defeat me in some absurd, pointless competition? What a tempting offer."

Riona couldn’t shake the feeling that her uncle’s real plan was to lock her up in that miserable chamber again. She still remembered how powerless and trapped she’d felt. There was no way she’d let that happen again.

"No," the king replied. "You shouldn’t stay here. Go far away. Let Florian stay with us. You know he won’t go hungry here. We have more than enough to keep him safe and well."

Ah, so this was the grand scheme. Did he know about Florian’s true identity? Was he planning to use the young vampire like a pawn in some shady power play?

But that didn’t quite add up. King Valentin wasn’t the greedy type. He was strong, yes, but he’d never once used his power to invade other kingdoms or grab more land.

If anything, he was the kingdom’s overly responsible dad figure: strong, honorable, and way too invested in making sure every vampire within its borders could live safely and thrive.

So then, why? Riona doubted she’d get an answer even if she asked. Not that it mattered. If she could get Florian back, King Valentin’s motives wouldn’t mean a thing.

"I’ll talk to him," Riona said firmly. "Let me decide who stays and who goes. He’s my brother. I’m his guardian. Officially."

It was a pretty flimsy claim, honestly. Riona was, at best, a distant cousin. And if anyone bothered to look closely at the family tree, they’d find Florian didn’t have a drop of royal blood in his veins.

He wasn’t connected to this palace—or King Valentin—by anything more than circumstance. His real family was long gone.

Still, cousin or not, Florian was hers. And that was all that mattered.

"Riona..." King Valentin hesitated, carefully picking his words as if trying to reason with the most stubborn vampire on the continent. "I promise you, he’ll be safer here than he could ever be with you."

"Oh, that’s not the issue," the ancestor interjected. "The issue is we need to destroy the demon currently squatting in that young bat’s body before it completely takes over."

Riona bit her lip, partly to keep from saying something treasonous and partly to keep from screaming.

A few colorful insults aimed at the ancestor hovered at the tip of her tongue, but with the king standing right there, she had to swallow them down. Treason wasn’t exactly on her to-do list today.

"I understand, Your Majesty," Riona said, keeping her voice level, though every word felt like a struggle. "But I’d like to speak with my brother first. He deserves a say in this—we can’t keep making decisions for him forever, can we?"

It was a valiant attempt at diplomacy. Too bad it had about as much effect as throwing a pebble at a glacier.

"What is it you want to talk to me about?" came a voice from behind the king. It was hoarser, deeper, and altogether rougher than Riona remembered.

Her face lit up, relief and joy flooding her for a moment—finally, she could see Florian! But the happiness lasted about as long as a melting snowflake. When the king stepped aside, practically plastering himself to the wall, Riona’s smile vanished like it had been yanked off her face.

Out stepped Florian—or what was left of him. The young vampire looked like he’d shot up a few inches overnight, though maybe it was just that he wasn’t slouching anymore.

Where had he gotten this sudden boost of confidence?

Not that Riona didn’t want Florian to find his courage—it’s just that this version of him wasn’t inspiring hope. It was unsettling. He wasn’t just standing tall; he was cocky. Like he’d just claimed the entire world as his personal property.

That had to be the work of that cursed Blogaz thing.

Ol’gaz, Riona mentally corrected herself, already imagining the ancestor rolling their eyes. Yes, yes, I know. Thanks for the reminder, oh mighty know-it-all.

"Florian!" Riona exclaimed, her voice a mix of forced cheerfulness and genuine relief. The forced part was to hide her unease because, while she was happy to see him again, this... version of Florian wasn’t exactly what she’d hoped for.

Trailing several feet behind him was Lady Maris, moving like a ghost at a funeral. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, and her gaze seemed glued to her puffed-up skirt, as though it were the only thing holding her together.

She looked as drained and defeated as King Valentin. What on earth had happened to this family?

Then again, Riona reminded herself, this wasn’t the time to care for someone else’s drama. She had her own overflowing plate of problems to deal with.

She locked eyes with Florian, ignoring the unsettling vibe radiating off him, and reached out to take his hand. "Let’s go, Flo. The sun will be up soon."

What happened next felt like a slap in the face—figuratively, of course, but it stung all the same.

Florian yanked his hand out of hers, so abruptly and harshly that it took her aback. Standing slightly taller than her now, he tilted his chin down, glaring at her like she’d just insulted his entire existence.

And then he held the silence—deliberately, dramatically, like he wanted her to feel every second of it. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, steady, and chillingly firm.

"No."

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