Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate
Chapter 241: A Sea of Sore Memories

Chapter 241: A Sea of Sore Memories

The beach was swarming with werewolves because apparently, even supernatural creatures couldn’t resist a good candlelight vigil. Werewolves gathered in solemn silence, each holding a candle nestled on a leaf-boat, crafted with care.

One by one, they stepped to the edge of the surf, their feet just skimming the waves as they set the tiny vessels afloat. The candles drifted farther from shore, their light swallowed gradually by the vastness of the sea.

"Are you crying?" Trudy asked, raising an eyebrow at the suspicious glimmer on Charna’s cheek.

Charna swiped at her face with the speed of someone who definitely wasn’t crying, then crossed her arms like she was mad at the air. "No," she said, voice dripping with the kind of denial that could convince absolutely no one.

Trudy thought about poking at her obvious lie but decided against it. It wasn’t the time. This was a serious occasion, which meant even Trudy felt her throat tighten a little as her thoughts wandered to their deceased comrades.

"Years have passed, but it doesn’t hurt any less," someone muttered nearby in the tone of a tragic poet who wanted an audience. "Would things be different if we had never accepted her here?"

Trudy’s eye twitched. She didn’t even have to look to know who was speaking, but she turned anyway. Yep. There was Morgan, standing near the dunes, her lips still moving, her tone loud enough for everyone to hear.

"It’s obviously her fault," Morgan continued, exhaling loudly as if her martyrdom were exhausting. She kicked at the sand, adding a dramatic flourish. "But no one wants to admit it, because it wouldn’t change a damn thing. And who even knows if Vesper is still alive?"

Trudy pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something about how once—just once— it would be nice if Morgan could attend a solemn event without starting a blame game. Her brow furrowed as she made her way over, her patience dangling by a thread.

Morgan noticed her approach and arched one of her infamously thin eyebrows, clearly unbothered by Trudy’s looming presence. "What?" she asked, her tone smug.

"I don’t know how many times I need to say this for it to sink into that thick skull of yours. Maybe you’ll never understand—narrow minds tend to work that way," Trudy began, her tone sharp enough to cut.

Her expression said it all: she was speaking to someone as obstinate and clueless as a toddler clutching stolen candies, convinced they could rule the world with sticky fingers and misplaced confidence.

"But let me break it down for you—again," she said, her voice taking on the exaggerated tone of a teacher who knew the student wasn’t paying attention.

"It. Was. Not. Riona’s. Fault. If some of our pack members had acted like mature adults instead of throwing tantrums and stirring up drama"—she paused to glare pointedly—"and by that, yes, I mean you and your co-conspirator Vesper—maybe, just maybe, we’d all still be alive and playing fetch together like one big happy pack."

The memory of that disastrous day flashed in her mind. The Zachs’ army had shown up when Thorin was conveniently not there. Their demand for Riona.

Instead of showing a backbone, certain pack members had decided the best course of action was to drag Riona forward like she was some kind of sacrificial goat, a sacrificial lamb offered up to save their own hides.

And how had that worked out for anyone?

"None of us should have died," Trudy snapped. "But sure, keep clinging to the fantasy that Riona was the problem. It couldn’t possibly be the fault of, oh, I don’t know, people like you, who treated her like the enemy from day one."

She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes at Morgan as she said in a low voice, "And deep down, you know that. Nina’s target was Wintertooth from the start—not just Riona. Riona or not, the Zachs were going to come for us. They were going to annihilate us either way."

If she could rewrite the past, it wouldn’t be Riona’s arrival she would change. No, it would be the narrow-minded, self-serving attitude of certain pack members. Riona had given everything for the pack. How could they not see that?

"Oh, and one more thing," Trudy said, her voice now saccharine sweet but brimming with sarcasm. "Let’s not forget who sacrificed herself to save the pups when everything went to hell. That’s right—Riona. So maybe, instead of blaming her, you could try a little gratitude. Just a thought."

Morgan stayed silent, not because she had admitted defeat, but because she was still hunting for words that could bring Trudy down. The perfect retort was just out of reach, and she hated that.

While she was still mentally composing her masterpiece, Charna showed up.

And of course, the Chief of Wintertooth casually slid her arm into Trudy’s like they were going on a nice stroll through the park. Morgan didn’t miss a beat.

That should have been her. She had earned the right to be Charna’s arm candy. They were best friends, for crying out loud. And now, it felt like everything was slipping through her fingers.

"Let’s go, Trudy! It’s not worth it," Charna said, her voice firm as she led Trudy away from the confrontation.

Morgan stood frozen, unable to form a single word. Her friends were tugging at her shirt, urging her to respond, to get the last word. But the sting of betrayal cut deeper than any insult.

Charna had chosen Trudy and the vampire—an outsider—over her. The realization gnawed at her, leaving her feeling empty and furious all at once.

Romantic breakups were bad enough, but friendship breakups? Those hurt just as much. Maybe Morgan’s methods were flawed, but she had always acted with the best intentions. She couldn’t understand why Charna would choose to turn her back on their bond for someone else.

"Are you just gonna let her walk away after everything she said?" a small, eager voice broke through her thoughts. A young werewolf stood beside her, looking like they expected a war cry.

Morgan snapped, her voice cold and distant. "Put it to rest. I’m done with her."

But the words felt hollow as they left her mouth. She wasn’t thinking about Trudy anymore—or even the argument. She was just trying to silence the ache in her chest, the weight of Charna’s betrayal that she couldn’t shake.

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