The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 279

Chapter 279: Spoken Like A Firstborn Son

Behind her, Elara curtsied without hesitation. Hale inclined his head. Dex and Fin both offered the measured bow of kings greeting equals, precise and unhurried.

Gav glanced at Hale, received a look that said just bow, and bowed.

The three mages followed, though Maelor’s bow had the energy of a man who was only bowing because the architecture had already humbled him.

The queen rose slowly.

Her steps were nearly soundless as she circled Serena, examining her with the precision of a general studying a battlefield.

She spoke sharply in Morbian Vellum to the king, the cadence clipped, assessing, devoid of warmth.

Fin’s jaw flexed. Dex shifted his weight, barely perceptible.

Serena remained still. Composed. Warm.

When she responded in Morbian Vellum, her tone sounded respectful and steady. She spoke the way you speak to someone you intend to honor, not someone you’re afraid of.

The queen’s expression remained stone. Almost an expression of malice. Almost dislike.

Then the king spoke in perfect common tongue.

"Interesting indeed."

The group tensed.

The queen spoke next. "You are of Frostborne. Your features betray it." She paused, studying Serena the way a woman studies something she wasn’t expecting to see in her lifetime. "Your people are dead. Yet you stand before me."

Behind Serena, Elara inhaled once and held it. Hale’s hand found the small of her back.

Serena’s voice held steady. "Frostborne has fallen, Your Majesty. I stand before you as Drakenfell. Formed by the guidance, shielded by their loyalty, and made strong through their devotion."

"You are no common daughter of Frostborne. You bear crownlines in your veins. You didn’t stand upon its walls as they burned. You didn’t watch your people die."

Gav’s jaw tightened. Beside him, Maelor’s hand curled into a fist at his side, which was surprising, because Maelor didn’t do solidarity.

Serena lowered her head in respect, but her voice remained steady.

"That is where you are wrong, Your Majesty. I stood upon those walls. It happened in my twelfth summer, and I have not lived a day unburdened by it."

The queen studied her with a scrutiny that measured lineage, bearing, and purpose in a single breath. "You are far too young to carry its scars. You saw none burn. So no, you do not understand what it means."

Serena’s voice cracked just once. "I watched my mother’s throat get slit. I assure you, I carry scars, Your Majesty."

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