Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate
Chapter 232: Chasing Shadows

Chapter 232: Chasing Shadows

The bowl of blood rattled on the tray, her trembling hands barely able to keep it steady. She whipped around suddenly, searching the corridor—empty. Nothing but silence.

Her heart hammered in her chest. You’re imagining things.

She tightened her grip on the tray, forcing herself to breathe. She’d been thinking about her fear too much, letting it poison her thoughts.

"Get a hold of yourself," she whispered under her breath, though her voice barely convinced her.

Clearing her throat, she knocked on the door, the sound sharp and unnaturally loud. "Flo, it’s me," she called, though the name tasted strange on her tongue now.

Lisbeth reached into her pocket, fingers fumbling slightly as she drew out the heavy chain of keys. She slipped one into the lock, the metal scraping softly against the keyhole. Just as she turned the key, she felt it.

A shadow. Massive. It swept behind her, engulfing her vision like a black wave.

Lisbeth went still, her throat tightening as though invisible fingers curled around it. That wasn’t my imagination. She could feel it—something heavy, something wrong.

Slowly, painfully slowly, she turned her head to look behind her. The tray in her hands shook, the blood rippling in its bowl, as Lisbeth came face to face with the darkness.

But there was nothing there—nothing tangible. Her eyes widened, desperate to see what could not be seen.

She spun around frantically, her gaze darting to every corner of the hallway, searching for something—anything—that could explain it. But there was nothing. It had just been a shadow.

Only a shadow, she told herself, though the words did little to calm her.

The moon hung high in the sky, its silver light filtering through the open windows, casting slivers of light across the stone floor.

Yet where Lisbeth stood, the darkness clung unnaturally. It pooled around her feet and seemed to swallow her whole, as though a great cloud loomed directly overhead.

But she was inside. In a hallway. There were no clouds here.

Her chest tightened, and the tray trembled in her hands. She set it down abruptly, her breathing uneven, and rushed to the window. She leaned out, scanning the courtyard and the snowy mountains beyond, desperate to find whatever had cast that massive shadow.

There was nothing. No shape. No movement. The moonlight was clear, cold, and undisturbed.

And yet, the shadow remained.

It didn’t merely linger—it shifted. She could feel it now, pressing closer, circling her, as though inspecting her. Her throat felt tight, her breath shallow.

She instinctively leaned back against the window’s railing, her body bending away from the encroaching darkness. The shadow loomed closer still as if it could smother her.

Her heart raced, and with a gasp, she broke free. She ran straight through the shadow, grabbing the tray with shaking hands, and all but stumbled into Florian’s chamber.

Inside, the air was colder, the darkness thicker than she remembered. She paused, her chest heaving as she tried to steady herself.

This room had once been grand and inviting—brightly lit, its golden furniture gleaming, its decorations carefully curated to impress royal visitors.

Now it felt abandoned, suffocated.

The single bowl of blood on the tray had spilled, its contents reduced to half from all the shaking. Lisbeth set it on the table with unsteady hands, forcing herself to breathe.

Florian stood by the window, his back to her, facing the inner courtyard. Beyond him, she could see the fountain that never froze, its waters spilling eternally into the basin below.

"That’s your dinner," Lisbeth said, her voice strained as she tried to sound casual. The words hung awkwardly in the silence.

Florian didn’t move. He didn’t answer. His figure was rigid, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze fixed somewhere outside.

Lisbeth couldn’t see his face, and she wasn’t entirely sure he’d even heard her.

Her instincts screamed at her to leave, to escape this room that felt as oppressive as the shadow outside. Normally, she would have. She never lingered in Florian’s chambers longer than necessary—being here always made her skin crawl.

But now, after what had happened, her legs refused to move. She couldn’t bring herself to step back into that hallway. The memory of the shadow curling around her like smoke, suffocating and sentient, was too fresh.

What if it’s still there? Waiting?

This wasn’t the first time Lisbeth had felt fear. But fear had never stopped her before. She had always charged forward, weapon in hand, because her enemy had been clear—something she could see, face, and fight.

The odds had never mattered much; whether her chances were fifty-fifty or seventy-thirty, at least she had known the rules of engagement.

But this time was different. This time, she didn’t know what she was facing. She didn’t even know if it could be fought. The uncertainty sank its claws into her, holding her still as she wrestled with her thoughts.

Then Florian appeared.

She hadn’t seen him move, hadn’t heard a sound, yet suddenly he was right beside her—so close that her pulse stuttered. She almost jumped.

"Are you scared, Princess?" he asked, his voice low and menacing.

Lisbeth swallowed hard and took an instinctive step back, putting space between them. She fought to steady her voice. "What was that thing?"

Florian tilted his head slightly, a smirk curling at the edge of his mouth. The expression was chilling, devoid of warmth. He turned away, walking slowly into the shadows.

"You already know," he said, his voice quiet but sharp. "You’re just too scared to admit it."

Her worst suspicion was confirmed: the shadow was the demon. It was no longer just trapped inside Florian—it could separate itself, roam freely, and claim the space around it.

Lisbeth’s mind raced. How? How could the demon detach itself from its host? How could it slither through walls and shadows, untouched and unseen, while Florian remained locked away in this chamber?

If this was true, the kingdom was in greater peril than anyone realized. Locking Florian away wouldn’t work anymore—not if the demon could escape, shifting into a form that couldn’t be contained.

Lisbeth felt the depth of the threat she couldn’t see. A threat she couldn’t fight. And a threat that smiled through Florian’s lips.

Unable to accept what she had just seen, Lisbeth bolted from the room. The hallway was empty, the suffocating shadow gone without a trace. But she knew better. It hadn’t vanished. It hadn’t been defeated.

It had simply returned to where it belonged—inside Florian.

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