The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 150

Chapter 150: Tell Your Master I’m Not Interested

After the High General took that step, a menacing grin spread across his face. He watched her the way a cat would play with a mouse.

Her pulse spiked, but her boots stayed planted.

Fin: He’s testing you. Keep your eyes on him. Make a second sword with flame.

Serena fabricated a second sword. It formed in tandem with a second blade for Elara behind her. She pushed flame into them, harder than necessary, and into the swords they already held.

The synchronized flare was so perfect that one of the guards almost clapped, cutting the motion short when he remembered whose side he was on.

Elara: Frostborne. You and I both know—

Fin cut her off mid-mindlink.

Fin: Fake it. Follow her lead.

The High General exhaled through his nose, and the sound was almost fond.

"Your hands are shaking. You can make weapons and set them on fire. But you’ve never killed anyone face-to-face, and we both know it."

"The head on my throne room floor is the mystery." He opened both arms wide, palms up, an invitation. "But by all means, let’s see what happens next."

Elara: He has a point.

Hyran and Aeron exchanged a glance that covered an entire tactical briefing in under a second. The conclusion was unanimous: they were going to die in this throne room because a small she-wolf was bluffing a Fae warlord with shaking hands and a villain speech she’d rehearsed for four seconds.

Fin’s attention was locked onto Serena. Every muscle was coiled with the specific tension of a man who was one wrong word away from ending the charade himself.

Fin: Are you able to make weapons for us?

Elara: She is.

At that moment, a side door opened. The guards were returning with prisoners. Serena released the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and inhaled fully.

Hyran: That was approximately four seconds from becoming a very different situation.

Aeron: Divine intervention. I say this as a man who does not believe in divine intervention.

Hyran: If those doors hadn’t opened, what was your move, Serena?

Serena: I would have fought him.

Hyran: Didn’t Dexmon rescue you after you got stabbed? That’s how you met. Your track record fighting with blade is abysmal.

He wasn’t wrong. That was the irritating part. Serena chose not to answer.

The rest followed in rapid succession, battered and barely upright, Archibald with cracked spectacles, Gavriel with his usual smirk beaten out of him, ten Hidden Flame members who looked like they’d been dragged through hell and left there.

All of them glowing pink. Nothing undermines weeks of brutal imprisonment and torture more than being rescued in hot pink. Hardened warriors, beaten and bloodied, standing in a line, glowing the exact shade of a six-year-old’s birthday party. Tactical excellence.

Gavriel looked at Serena, then at the glowing crown, then at the dual blades, then back at Serena. Smartass energy radiated off him like heat from a furnace and it was taking all of his restraint not to mindlink.

She fought the urge to grin. She needed to look every part of the inner bitch she was channeling, which didn’t include laughing in the middle of a hostage situation.

Everyone brought into the throne room understood without being told. They kept their hands cuffed behind their backs, pretending to still be bound, playing along with the charade. The ’we are absolutely still your prisoners, please don’t look too closely’ energy was immaculate.

The guards shoved them into a line near Fin and stepped back to flank the High General.

"You will not follow us," Serena said. Her voice rang through the throne room with an authority she didn’t feel. "You will not speak of what happened here to anyone."

The High General’s smile widened. "Or?"