Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate
Chapter 258: Who Even Are You?

Chapter 258: Who Even Are You?

Riona dodged—but not fast enough, because of course, dramatic timing demanded she get stabbed just a little. The knife sank into her shoulder blade, prompting a chorus of shocked gasps as the attacker popped out of nowhere.

Thorin lunged forward to protect her, but Riona was already in full defensive mode. With one hand, she grabbed the assailant by the throat like she was plucking a particularly annoying weed.

Then, in one move, she hurled him to the ground, face-first into the dirt. "Who the hell are you? And why—"

Before she could finish, her vision blurred, and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

The assailant scrambled to recover, clearly prepared to make another move, but Thorin was already on him. With a speed born of rage, Thorin tackled the man to the ground and pinned him down effortlessly.

"You’re not going anywhere," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Puck strolled up to the unknown man, his expression making it clear that he had zero time for nonsense. As a skilled tracker, his instincts were honed to a level beyond anyone else present. He didn’t need words to confirm his suspicions—the man’s body betrayed him.

"Who sent you?" Puck demanded.

The man’s eyes went wide, his pupils trembling like a guilty toddler caught with a stolen cookie. Puck smirked slightly. Bingo. This guy wasn’t acting on some personal vendetta—he didn’t have the spine for it. Nope, this was a hit job, plain and simple.

"Someone sent him?" Lady Maris exclaimed, her voice dripping with shock like she’d just seen someone use the wrong fork at a royal dinner. "I can’t believe there’s someone so low they couldn’t even bother to commit their own crime."

Puck barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, Lady Maris couldn’t believe it. She’d spent her entire life in the palace surrounded by supposedly noble vampires—dignified creatures who would never dream of doing something as tacky as hiring a hitman.

Even Elder Alfred, the biggest coward Lady Maris had ever known, had the decency to drag himself to the battlefield.

"I’m certain of it," Puck said firmly. He glanced around, noting the expectant stares of everyone in the room. Fine. He’d break it down for them.

Straightening up, he crossed his arms and adopted his most serious, tracker voice.

"Let me explain. First," he began, raising a finger to emphasize his point, "no one really knows who she is—at least, not her true identity. To the rest of the world, she’s just another Stray vampire trying to live her unremarkable life. And yes, I know she can be... spirited," he admitted, the corner of his mouth twitching with a hint of irony.

"But her temperament alone isn’t enough to provoke a grudge that would justify murder."

The Strays nodded along like students in a boring lecture. They were finally beginning to realize that Riona wasn’t just the feisty girl next door. Sure, they were curious, but not curious enough to interrupt Puck’s grand performance—it was way too entertaining to stop now.

"Second," Puck said, raising a second finger to join his index, his tone carrying just the right mix of confidence and drama, "this guy clearly has no idea who he’s dealing with."

A true enemy, someone nursing a personal grudge, would have done their homework. He would’ve stalked, studied, and known Riona inside and out before striking. He’d know what anyone worth their salt in Eira already knew: Riona wasn’t just anyone.

"Any half-decent grudge-holder would know Riona is the Blood Moon child. Everyone in Eira knows it. It’s the very reason chaos ensued in the royal palace. You’d have to be living under a rock—or, apparently, wherever this guy came from—not to know."

Puck crossed his arms and gave a mockingly thoughtful nod. "But okay, maybe he’s not from Eira. Even then, you’d think he’d pick up on the basics before trying to stab someone. Like, rule one of assassination: know your target. And rule two: don’t bring a knife to a fight with the Blood Moon child."

He let the sarcasm sink in for a beat before delivering the punchline. "If he did know she was the Blood Moon child, he’d be running in the opposite direction, not flailing around with a glorified kitchen utensil."

Everyone collectively gasped, as though Puck had just solved the world’s greatest mystery. Even the assailant let out an involuntary gasp, his eyes wide with shock. That tiny reaction was all Puck needed to confirm his theory.

Without missing a beat, Puck crouched down, grabbed the man by the collar, and yanked him closer. "Now, let’s try this one more time: who ordered you to harm Riona?"

The man was trembling like a leaf in a storm, his wide, panicked eyes darting from face to face before freezing on Emperor Kaan. The emperor, impossibly beautiful and about as warm as a glacier, didn’t even blink.

His lips stayed pursed in silent disapproval as the man, desperate and clueless, opened his mouth. "Your Majesty, please help me," he croaked, his voice cracked.

Puck glanced over his shoulder at the emperor and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you do know him. Well, that’s a plot twist. Thought he’d just been throwing darts at random royalty pictures."

The man began crawling across the floor like an overgrown insect, dragging himself toward Emperor Kaan in a pathetic bid for salvation. Unfortunately for him, Thorin was having none of it.

With one swift yank, the Alpha hauled him back like a misbehaving dog on a leash and dumped him on his back. The man squirmed briefly before deciding groveling might be a better strategy. He rubbed his hands together, forehead plastered to the floor like he was polishing it with his face.

"Please, Your Majesty," he whined, voice trembling with desperation. "Show mercy on me!"

Emperor Kaan didn’t move a muscle. Not a twitch, not a blink, not even a flicker of pity crossed his perfect face. He might as well have been a very attractive statue.

Sir Roderick, on the other hand, had no poker face to speak of. His eyebrows shot up so high they practically left the building, and his lip curled in disgust.

This was the assassin? This pitiful excuse for a vampire, groveling on the floor like a worm? If Sir Roderick had been holding a cup of tea, he’d have spat it out.

The emperor’s most trusted aide, Sir Roderick, nearly stepped forward to interrogate the man himself, ready to defend his liege’s honor and clear any stain on his reputation.

But before he could so much as open his mouth, a swirl of grey dust coiled around the assailant’s throat. It tightened like a noose, squeezing the life out of him in seconds. The man gasped for air, eyes bulging, before collapsing lifelessly to the ground.

Emperor Kaan didn’t blink. He didn’t even look particularly upset about the impromptu execution he’d just carried out. Instead, he gave the corpse the kind of cold glare you’d reserve for an overcooked steak and declared, "He didn’t deserve to be spared."

Puck blinked. A thousand questions zipped through his mind like firecrackers, but one stood out, screaming at him louder than the rest: Why kill the guy now, huh? What were you trying to stop him from saying, Your Majesty? The timing was, let’s say, suspicious.

He opened his mouth to voice his concern, but before he could say a word, a panicked shout cut through the tension. "She’s dying!"

All heads turned to Riona. She was convulsing violently, her body writhing as dark foam spilled from her mouth. Her skin was pale as death, crisscrossed with white, branching veins that spread from the spot where the knife had pierced her.

"It’s poisoned," Puck muttered, his usual snark replaced with panic. For once, he really wished he was wrong.