Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate
Chapter 224: Amplified Chaos

Chapter 224: Amplified Chaos

Her breathing was ragged, her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

The Fallen One wasn’t the only one seething with rage after hearing the story. Riona looked ready to take on the world—and Callum—with sheer determination alone.

"You can’t," the Fallen One said.

Riona narrowed her eyes. "Why are you suddenly his lawyer? Weren’t you the one roasting him a minute ago?"

"I’m not defending him," he replied quickly. "You just can’t. He’s dead, you see."

"Oh." Riona tilted her head. "Shame. I was really looking forward to showing him the error of his ways. Violently. Anyway, what’s next? Your drama’s actually kind of entertaining."

The Fallen One rolled his eyes at her blunt insult but didn’t argue. He just let out a loud sigh. "It all went downhill from there. Rumors spread about her being involved with that scumbag, and everyone believed it. After all, it was no secret that Lacy had feelings for him."

"Ugh!" Riona gagged, clutching her stomach like she’d just swallowed garlic poison. But she stopped short of anything dramatic. "Nope. Not puking. Lacy doesn’t deserve that."

"Right," the Fallen One said flatly. "Anyway!" He clapped his hands together like he was ripping off a Band-Aid. "This is where it gets messy. She was furious—completely losing it. No one would believe her, no matter how many times she told the truth. So guess who she ran to as her last hope? Yeah. Me."

Riona’s eyebrows shot up. Oh, this is going to be bad, she thought, but decided to keep that little gem of wisdom to herself.

"She begged me to do something. If Remus had been there, he would’ve been the one she ran to. But he wasn’t. He was off doing his Alpha duties, and that left... well, me." The Fallen One’s voice softened, his eyes distant as if the memory had pulled him back.

He paused, the weight of it pressing down on him. No matter how many times he replayed that moment in his mind, the pain never dulled. It clung to him, raw and sharp, as though it had happened just seconds ago.

"But you know that I couldn’t possibly help her. Not really. I don’t have a body—no fists, no power. I couldn’t even punch Callum, no matter how much I wanted to. And oh, did I want to punch him. Repeatedly. In the face. Preferably with a chair."

The Fallen One’s voice rose, and he clenched his hands like he was trying to make fists that weren’t there. Realizing he was spiraling, he stopped, exhaling slowly to regain his composure.

"Anyway, there she was. On her knees, crying, begging me to help her. She wanted me to erase her memories. Like, poof, no more Callum. But, surprise! I can’t do that either. So, we compromised."

The Fallen One waved his hands like he was trying to make the situation sound way more inspiring than it was.

"I expanded her horizon. Got her to stop obsessing over trivial garbage like Callum and focus on something bigger. Change the world, she said. Make a difference, she said. And you know what? I actually believed her. I really did. For a while, anyway."

He ended with a shrug, the faintest hint of an eye-roll as if to say, And look where that got us.

"So, I performed the ritual to amplify her Blood Moon power. I really thought I’d done it—finally achieved my life-long dream of using the Blood Moon’s power for something good. But I was wrong. So wrong. I didn’t see it coming. She blindsided me."

The Fallen One let out a long, frustrated sigh. He didn’t blame Lacy. He understood she’d been too heartbroken to think clearly, her pain clouding her judgment.

The one he truly despised was Callum, for breaking her, and Remus, for not being there when she needed him most. But above all, he hated himself.

As the first ancestor, the Fallen One should have been the voice of reason, the one to guide Lacy when she was drowning in her emotions and spiraling into irrationality.

That was his responsibility, and he’d failed her. The signs were there—clear as day—but he chose to ignore them. Instead of steering her onto the right path, he let himself get swept up in her determination.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "So, yeah, instead of saying, ’Hey, Lacy, maybe don’t channel your heartbreak into a supernatural power trip,’ I just nodded along like a clueless idiot. And here we are. Bravo, me."

"I guess she failed at that whole ’changing the world’ thing," Riona said, glancing around. "Because if this is her idea of a transformed world, I’ve got to say, I’m not impressed. Looks pretty bleak to me."

"You’re not wrong," the Fallen One replied. "The truth is, she was never really interested in changing the world. That was just a convenient excuse. Her real goal was to avenge her pain. And with the amplified power, she went on a rampage—tearing apart anyone who so much as whispered against her. Oh, and Callum? Let’s just say he didn’t exactly survive the experience."

Riona exhaled. A small, satisfied smirk formed around her lips. Lacy had finally taken care of Callum. Someone as trashy as him—trashier than the month-old garbage festering in summer—deserved exactly what he got. She only hoped his death had been slow and agonizing.

"But Callum wasn’t the only one who didn’t make it," the Fallen One said, his tone turning somber. "Lacy didn’t survive either."

Riona’s satisfaction faded as the weight of his words sank in.

"The amplified power was too much for her," the Fallen One continued. "Lacy wasn’t prepared for it—her body, her mind, none of it. She never trained to handle her abilities, let alone something as consuming as the Blood Moon’s amplified power. It overwhelmed her completely."

He paused, his voice thick with regret. "Her body couldn’t contain it. She lost control, went berserk. She destroyed everything—her home, the forest, anything and anyone nearby. By the time it was over, not a single living thing was left standing."

Riona felt a chill creep down her spine as he went on.

"When your father returned home, all that greeted him were the ashes of his home—and his sister." The Fallen One’s eyes darkened. "That disaster didn’t just destroy lives; it shattered everything. The werewolves, your father, me—we all bore the scars of that day."

The Fallen One’s voice hardened, bitter with the memory. "And of course, the ancestors who already hated me seized the moment. They called for my shunning, stripping me of my name, dragging me from my throne. They didn’t waste a second tearing me down, blaming me for everything."

He leaned back, bitterness mingling with weariness. "And honestly? They weren’t entirely wrong."