Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate
Chapter 248: I’ll Love You Even When You Can’t Love Yourself

Chapter 248: I’ll Love You Even When You Can’t Love Yourself

Oh, great. They were back. The negative thoughts, swooping in like uninvited dinner guests who wouldn’t take the hint.

The moment Riona saw Thorin’s face, everything she’d stuffed into the emotional junk drawer burst out in full force, slapping her upside the head.

Longing? Check. Guilt? Double check. An overwhelming sense of impending doom? Oh, absolutely.

It wasn’t just that she had missed him with every fiber of her being. There hadn’t been a single moment when she didn’t yearn to be by his side again.

But that yearning came with some lovely parting gifts: guilt and the nagging certainty that everyone in Wintertooth hated her guts.

And honestly, could she blame them?

Hatred was something Riona understood. She had been hated her entire life, and it was easier to accept when it came from a distance, faceless and impersonal.

But the thought of betrayal—or worse, disappointment—from someone close to her was a wound she couldn’t bear. And so, she didn’t even allow herself the hope that Thorin might still hold her in high regard.

In her heart, she was certain he didn’t. How could he not be disappointed? He’d given her a home, practically showered her with luxurious food, and even let her brother tag along.

And her big thank-you gesture? Oh, nothing major. Just burning down the entire village. Talk about a heartfelt ’thank you for your hospitality!’ Honestly, she might as well have gift-wrapped the ashes and handed them to him personally.

Because really, nothing says ’I love you’ like a little light arson.

Just as she was about to hurl herself into Thorin’s arms like some tragic heroine in a cheap stage play, Riona froze. Her fists clenched dramatically at her sides, and she shook her head like she was the lead actress in a very serious monologue.

"No," she declared, her voice trembling with self-loathing. "I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you."

With a dramatic whirl, she spun around, preparing to make a grand exit—maybe with her hair whipping perfectly in the wind if fate was feeling generous. But if there was one thing Thorin couldn’t let her do, it was out-drama him.

Before she could take another step, he grabbed her wrist with just the right amount of urgency because let’s not forget, timing is everything.

"That’s not true," he said, his voice dripping with sincerity, like he’d been practicing it in front of a mirror. "I’m no saint, Riona. Far from it. Remember? I got close to you for... shrewd purposes."

He paused, probably waiting for her to gasp in shock, before adding, "And yet, you still accepted me."

Off to the side, Puck was dying. Not literally, but emotionally. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets as he battled the overwhelming urge to gag. The cheese was strong with these two.

He understood their feelings. Really, he did. But did they have to put on this whole melodramatic display where everyone could see it? He half-expected them to start reciting poetry next.

Rolling his eyes hard enough to see his own brain, Puck turned away from the pair. Enough was enough. He had better things to do than watch two ex-lovers try to outdo each other in emotional grandstanding.

Meanwhile, Lady Maris stood by his side, the perfect contrast to his exasperation. She dabbed delicately at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief, visibly moved by the scene unfolding before her.

Beneath her wide-brimmed hat and protective veil—standard royal gear for stepping out under the sun—she sighed dreamily.

"Oh, young love," she murmured, her voice tinged with wistful admiration.

Puck glanced at her, barely resisting the urge to groan. "Yeah, sure. Young love," he muttered under his breath. "Or just two people battling to see who can be more dramatic."

"Shh!" Lady Maris hissed, cutting Puck off mid-grumble, as though he were the one disturbing her peace instead of the fact that she’d started the commentary in the first place.

Puck, grumbling under his breath, waved her off and stomped away, muttering something about how this wasn’t worth the eye strain.

Honestly, it was a win-win situation. Lady Maris got to keep enjoying her front-row seat to the melodrama, and Puck got to avoid permanent retina damage from witnessing their painfully over-the-top reunion.

As Puck disappeared, neither Riona nor Thorin spared him a glance. Why would they? They were far too absorbed in their swirling world of tears, declarations, and guilt-soaked stares to notice anyone else existed.

Minutes passed, filled with more tears, dramatic pauses, and overwrought confessions. Eventually, after what felt like a small eternity, the ex-lovers finally leveled up back to lovers.

"I’ll love you even when you can’t love yourself," Thorin said.

Apparently, the mere sight of Thorin’s handsome face was all it took to dissolve the crushing guilt in Riona’s chest.

Sure, burning down his village had seemed like an unforgivable crime five minutes ago, but now? Eh, no big deal. His smoldering charm made it all vanish like smoke in the wind.

By this point, they were hugging each other so tightly it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. And then came the kissing—oh, the kissing.

It started innocently enough, with gentle pecks that might have been slightly tolerable if you squinted. But before long, they were practically trying to devour each other’s faces, completely ignoring the fact that other people were still present.

"Ahem," Lady Maris cleared her throat delicately, but with an edge of polite desperation. She had been standing there long enough to feel it was time—long past time, really—to put an end to their antics.

At first, she didn’t mind. When Thorin kissed Riona’s forehead, she swooned, clutching her handkerchief like the hopeless romantic she was. When he gave Riona a sweet, lingering peck, she was still patient, because surely this was where it would end.

But then it didn’t end. Oh no, it escalated. Fast.

By the time they were practically trying to inhale each other’s faces, Lady Maris was shifting uncomfortably in place, debating whether to clap her hands or throw a bucket of water on them.

Surely, it would be brief, right? Surely, they’d realize they weren’t alone and reel it in?

Wrong. Oh, so wrong.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, and they showed no signs of stopping. Lady Maris’s patience wore thinner with each passing second.

Things only came to a halt when Riona’s clothes began slipping dangerously out of place, exposing just enough skin to threaten a nasty sunburn.

And that—of all things—finally made them pause. Because what’s more romantic than being rudely interrupted by the sun frying your partner?

Lady Maris sighed deeply, tucking her handkerchief back into her sleeve. "Alright, enough of this," she said. "We have important matters to attend to, and it’s time to get serious."

Riona and Thorin hastily adjusted their clothes, wiping their mouths as the flush of their earlier passion turned into sheepishness. It was only now, apparently, that they finally noticed Lady Maris standing there, arms crossed and clearly done with waiting.

Without wasting another second, Lady Maris cut straight to the point. "Riona, I need you. Your brother needs you. And right now, you’re the only one who can save him."

Before Riona could even respond, Lady Maris launched into the full, unvarnished story. She explained everything—how Florian had been conceived, how she had once saved him as a baby, and how, despite her efforts, that very demon had somehow been unsealed.