Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate
Chapter 240: Mixed Signals

Chapter 240: Mixed Signals

"UAARRGGGHHHH!!!!!"

The scream tore through the silence like someone’s soul being ripped apart. Someone was in pain. Riona froze. She knew that voice. Her brow creased, the echo of their agony reverberating in her chest. She looked around, squinting into the suffocating darkness.

"Flo? Florian?"

"AARRRGGGGHHHH!!!"

The scream came again, sharper, louder—filled with unbearable anguish. It clawed at her nerves. Her heart pounded as she staggered forward, blind and disoriented. She didn’t know where she was going—only that she had to move. She had to find him.

"Florian!" she called, her voice cracking as she thrust her arms into the void. The air felt heavy, oppressive. She could hear her breath quickening. "Is that you?"

Then the screaming stopped, replaced by something worse. A low, gut-wrenching sob. The voice broke into pitiful wails, fractured and trembling.

"Please..."

Her chest tightened. The sound wasn’t just around her—it was everywhere. It surrounded her. It sank into her. It was as if the voice was inside her skull, seeping into the cracks of her mind. She spun in circles, desperate to find its source.

"Please what?" she shouted, her voice rising with panic. "What is it, Florian? What do you need?"

"H-help..."

It was barely a whisper now, weak and fading, but laced with unbearable suffering.

Riona bit her lip hard enough to taste blood. She was trembling. "How? How do I help you?" she pleaded, her voice breaking with desperation. "Tell me! Say it! I’ll do anything!"

"Please... help me..." Florian wailed, his voice cracking with despair.

It sounded as though something was relentlessly tormenting him, an unseen force tearing at him. He sounded like a man captured by an unrelenting enemy, tortured endlessly, cursed to suffer without the release of death.

"Where are you? Let me come to you! Flo, I’ll help you—just wait for me!" Riona shouted into the oppressive darkness, her voice trembling with urgency.

Her cries echoed, fading into the void, swallowed by the silence. And then... nothing. Florian’s voice was gone.

"Flo?" she called again, her voice trembling. "Why aren’t you saying anything?"

Panic surged through her as she stumbled blindly, her hands outstretched, searching for any sign of him. The silence was suffocating, a void that seemed to grow louder the longer it lasted. No matter how much time passed, her eyes refused to adjust to the darkness.

"Flo!" she screamed.

***

"Florian!!" Riona shot upright, drenched in sweat and gasping for air.

"Another nightmare?" The Fallen One’s voice uttered, casual, almost bored, as if this were a morning routine.

And, in a way, it was. The nightmares had become her constant companions—relentless, vivid, and always the same. Florian, writhing in pain, pleading for her help. The image was burned into her mind.

Normally, Riona would stay in bed, curled up and trembling, until the tears came and spent themselves.

But today, the ancestor’s sudden appearance left no room for vulnerability. If nothing else, his presence gave her an excuse to shove her emotions aside. She straightened her back, swallowing her sorrow, and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

She didn’t bother replying to him. She didn’t need to. He always had something to say, whether she answered or not. Sliding out of bed, Riona reached for a thin layer of clothing, making sure it covered every inch of her skin.

"That could be a sign, you know," he began, as though he were bestowing divine wisdom. "Maybe Florian’s sending you a signal. What if he really does need your help?"

"That could be a sign, you know," said the ancestor. "Maybe he’s sending you a signal. What if he really does need your help?"

Riona’s jaw tightened. There he goes again, she thought bitterly, with that ’help your brother’ nonsense.

Instead of engaging, she focused on tying her boots, letting the rhythmic motions anchor her in the present.

Physical work had always been her outlet—a way to drown out the noise in her head, the frustration in her chest, and the gnawing guilt she refused to name.

"Come on, Riona!" the Fallen One continued, now fully in preacher mode. "You’ve gotta see it from a different perspective. That nightmare wasn’t random—it was a message! His message! Are you just going to ignore him when he’s blatantly asking for your help?"

Riona paused, considering his words for a fraction of a second before dismissing them with a snort.

Blatantly asking? Florian wasn’t sending a message; if anything, he was guilt-tripping her subconscious. If this was his way of reaching out, he needed to work on his communication skills. Maybe take up letter writing.

Without so much as a glance at her unwelcome guest, Riona tied her boots, stood up, and strode toward the door. The Fallen One kept talking, but she had perfected the ancient art of tuning him out.

"Don’t ignore me!" he called after her.

"Didn’t hear a thing," she muttered, slamming the door behind her.

"Alright," the ancestor said, exhaling heavily. After five years of trailing Riona, he’d learned the hard way that forcing her to agree was about as effective as shouting at a brick wall.

Instead, he decided to switch tactics—reason, persuasion. "I get it. You’re scared. But have you even considered the possibility that he’s been calling you through your dreams?"

Riona didn’t pause, didn’t even flinch. She kept walking, her eyes fixed ahead as if the conversation didn’t exist. She wouldn’t let herself entertain that idea, not even for a moment.

Giving it space in her mind would only spiral into sleepless nights and unnecessary heartache. Florian didn’t need her. He’d made that painfully clear.

"Ol’gaz is evil. It is the most evil of the evils. Can’t you see that it was taking over your brother back then? It wasn’t your brother saying those things. It was the demon."

"Ol’gaz is evil. The worst of the worst. It was taking over your brother back then, can’t you see that? It wasn’t him saying those things—it was the demon," the Fallen One pressed, following her into the dense forest.

Riona ducked under a low-hanging branch, not bothering to reply. She was here for herbs, not a lecture. Her homemade artificial blood stockpile was running low, and though it wasn’t her turn to gather supplies, being here gave her a reason to keep her hands busy—and her mind less so.

"It wasn’t just the demon," she said without looking up, her voice calm but sharp as a blade. "It used Florian’s real thoughts, real fears—no matter how small—and amplified them. You’re the one who told me that. Remember? It takes whatever’s already there and twists it, amplifies it. So, sure, maybe it spoke through him. But it didn’t pull those feelings out of nowhere."

The Fallen One hesitated. She was throwing his own words back at him, twisting them in a way that made arguing feel like stepping into a trap. "You’re taking it out of context!" he said, though his tone was less confident than before.

Riona arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Oh, really? So what’s the ’proper context,’ the Enlightened Almighty? My brother hates me, the demon saw it, and then it thoughtfully decided to inform me for closure? Is that it? Should I be sending it a thank-you letter?"

"It’s normal for mortals to hold two conflicting feelings at once," the ancestor groaned. "He could resent you for protecting him while also loving you more than anything. He could hate your choices and still be grateful for them. Both can exist, Riona. They don’t cancel each other out."

Riona snorted. "So what you’re saying is that I should feel better because my brother hates me and loves me? That’s the grand takeaway here?"

"It’s not that simple," he insisted. "He doesn’t hate you, Riona. Not really. He was angry. He was scared. The demon just took those small seeds of doubt and twisted them into weapons. You know that."

Riona turned away, focusing back on the herbs she was collecting. "Sounds like a nice excuse for someone who doesn’t want to admit their brother would rather be anywhere else than near them."

The Fallen One sighed dramatically. "Why do I even bother? Talking to you is like arguing with a very stubborn rock."

"Then maybe you should stop talking," Riona shot back, turning on her heel and marching deeper into the forest.