The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 10

Chapter 10: A Moose in the Temple

"Blood remembers. And blood binds," Hyran intoned.

He paused, letting the silence stretch for three seconds too long.

Dexmon and Gavriel found each other’s eyes at the exact same moment, faces saying the same thing: here we go.

"Do you, before King and altar, swear to uphold this pack, to guard its lives, keep its secrets, and renounce all will against your own, binding yourself in blood and bone until death or the Alpha’s command?"

Hale’s lips moved along with the oath. Gavriel caught it and nearly lost his composure.

"I do."

"Step forward and let the ancestors decide."

They moved to stand around the crystal basin with King Tiberon at the head.

He unsheathed a ceremonial dagger and cut his palm, letting the blood drip into the flame. The fire surged, recognizing him.

Dexmon went next, and the fire gave an identical reaction. Hale was third, Gavriel fourth, and Hyran last.

Hyran handed the dagger to Elara. "One at a time."

Elara cut her palm without flinching, squeezing her blood into the basin.

"Place your hand into the flame. The fire will speak its judgement."

When Elara put her hand in the fire, it immediately changed to silver.

Hale’s eyes widened and he made a sound. The verbal equivalent of a man’s brain rebooting.

King Tiberon glanced his way. He’d commanded armies, faced assassination attempts, and survived thirty years of marriage to Bellatrix. Nothing had prepared him for watching his Beta malfunction over a woman’s fire color.

The fire returned back to its original state.

"The ancestors have spoken. Your oath was accepted," Hyran said.

Elara handed Serena the dagger.

Serena cut her palm revealing gold blood. Every eye tracked it, and she pretended not to notice.

When the first drop hit the flame, it immediately roared gold.

Serena looked at Hyran, waiting for the next instruction, but he gave her nothing. His eyes were transfixed on the fire, locked somewhere between scholar and statue.

On his other side, Dexmon went so rigid that a vein pulsed in his neck. The scent of her blood caught him entirely off guard, slamming into him like a charging bull.

A sudden, primal urge to mate roared through his veins, right there on the ceremonial floor. The instinct was consuming and terrifying in its intensity.

His wolf surged, desperate to break through.

Aegon: I am fighting the urge to mark her. Do you feel that?

Dexmon: Yes. Control yourself.

Out of habit, he took a steadying breath to ground himself. Only to breathe in her scent again, and instantly regret it.

Aegon: I don’t care anymore.

Dexmon: Absolutely the fuck not.

Aegon: Mate her. Mate her again. Mark her. In that order.

It took every ounce of control Dexmon possessed to hold back. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple; his fists clenched until his knuckles turned white.

The Moon Goddess, it seemed, truly had a twisted sense of humor.

Gavriel, who had zero context for Dexmon’s internal crisis, leaned over. "You look constipated. Are you okay?"

Dexmon turned his head slowly.

"Is it about her blood being gold? Because that was objectively terrifying and also kind of hot."

"Shut up, Gavriel," Dexmon clipped through gritted teeth.

No one moved or spoke for another twenty seconds. By which point, Serena was running out of ways to stand there and pretend this was normal.

Hyran gestured towards the basin. "Place your hand within the flame. Let the fire speak its judgement."

Serena didn’t need to be told twice, moving her hand immediately. The fact that it was a literal fire hadn’t crossed her mind. What unsettled her was the pause before he’d told her to do it. Too long.

Was her blood going to be a problem? Her heart sank at the thought of her blood being the reason she couldn’t become a pack member.

Or maybe, had she done something offensive? Her thoughts spiraled for a few seconds before a warming sensation caught her attention.

She looked down at her hand, quiet curiosity overtaking her unease. The flame was warm, gentle in a way she hadn’t expected.

Soothing calm washed into her, easing the tightness in her chest. Almost as if it were telling her not to worry and that she didn’t misstep. Her blood was perfect exactly as it was.

King Tiberon exchanged a glance with Hyran. Usually after a few seconds, the fire returned to its natural state, signaling the judgement was complete.

But the fire remained gold, unchanging.

It had already been a few minutes.

He watched Serena, who met his gaze with steady composure. He gave a curt nod, that meant she could withdraw.

Serena pulled her hand from the flame. But just as she cleared the heat, the fire surged upward, snapping around her wrist like a shackle and yanking her back. The force was so violent that her entire arm was swallowed by the gold, and she was thrown forward until she hit the side of the crystal basin with a dull thud.

Serena inhaled sharply, her brows furrowed. She looked to Hyran and King Tiberon, but they seemed equally perplexed, their practiced masks of authority slipping.

Then, the fire went out completely.

But this flame had burned since the very inception of Drakenfell, surviving thousands of years without ever flickering. Hyran squinted at it. Like his eyes were wrong.

Thinking the ritual was over and she was in the clear, she began to pull her arm back.

There was a whoomp as Serena vanished beneath Hale’s full weight like a deer under a falling bookshelf.

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