The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Wet Kitten Declaring War

Dexmon had not been able to stop thinking about her. Three meetings and two cold baths later, and he could still smell her.

His mind kept going back to the clearing. To the blood on his hands and the weight of her in his arms.

He shook his head. No. He had obligations, a crown to protect, alliances to maintain, and she didn’t fit into any of it.

That’s what he kept telling himself. About seventeen times in the last hour.

Then panic twisted in his chest without warning. Not his. He stopped, mid-step due to the sheer intensity of it.

"What the hell..."

Aegon howled in his mind, knowing exactly who it belonged to.

She woke up and was afraid. In hindsight, locking her in a room might have been a tactical error.

Then something else happened that made him pause. Her panic tightened into resolve.

Adorable. Unexpected. Potentially problematic.

He entered the healing wing a minute later, and caught her scent immediately.

Fuck.

It was stronger than he remembered. His wolf practically rolled over like a dog getting belly rubs. Traitor.

When he reached the guarded chamber, the sentry snapped to attention and bowed. Dexmon didn’t acknowledge him and pushed the door open.

The bed was empty.

For one stupid, suspended moment, his mind supplied the wrong answer.

Safe. She’s awake and healed.

Then the truth slammed in.

She is no one.

The words came back in his own voice with the precision of a knife he’d thrown himself.

This was on him. She had woken alone, wounded, locked in a stranger’s castle, and done the only thing that made sense to her. She ran. Because no one had given her a reason to stay. He’d made sure of that.

He closed his eyes and mindlinked immediately.

Dexmon: The girl. Where is she?

Alaric: In the chambers assigned to her. I checked on her an hour ago. Her silver poisoning is more severe than I thought. She shouldn’t be conscious for days.

Dexmon: I am standing in those chambers. She is not here.

Footsteps thundered from the hall. Alaric burst through the door, slightly breathless. He took in the empty bed and blood-spotted sheets.

"Come with me," Dexmon said flatly, already moving out of the room.

It wasn’t a request.

Dexmon followed her scent through the corridors, stopping at a tapestry. He yanked it aside and pulled the hidden lever. A narrow door stood ajar.

"Was she an omega servant?" Alaric asked, frowning as they stepped inside. "Even my most senior healers don’t know about these tunnels."

Dexmon’s brows furrowed, not answering.

These tunnels were royal evacuation routes, known only to the bloodline. Either she’d been briefed, unlikely for an omega, or she’d navigated them on instinct.

Neither option made sense.

He followed her trail deeper, through the labyrinth. Most tunnels were collapsed passages and dead ends.

Yet the path she’d chosen cut through them cleanly. The most direct route.

They emerged at last into open air. Her scent was still there, mixed with blood.

"Be ready to open a portal on my signal," he called behind him, shifting to wolf mid-step.

The hunt had begun.

✦✦✦

Serena slipped, crashing on her stomach. A whimper tore from her throat before she could stop it.

For a moment, she stayed there, forehead pressed to the cold ground. The urge to rest was overwhelming.

Just for a moment. Just to close her eyes.

No.

She forced herself upright, and her legs moved. One boot in front of the other. Every step was a negotiation with a body that had already quit. But somewhere ahead, Elara was alone, and that was the only math that mattered.

A leaf cracked nearby and she stiffened. Her eyes snapped towards the sound, breath hitching.

Something was moving towards her.

She caught the scent and recognition hit.

Had he followed her?

"You’re the wolf from earlier," she said, voice level. "Thank you for helping me."

There was no response.

She let out a short, humorless laugh and shook her head. "Right then. Good talk. I’m losing my mind."

A voice came from the darkness, steady and unhurried.

"You’re not losing your mind. I was there earlier. You were wounded, cornered, and acting like the most dangerous thing in the clearing."

"From where I stood," he added, amused, "you looked like a wet kitten declaring war."

Serena sniffed the air, catching something familiar. She sorted through the scents until Elara’s emerged. Her pace quickened.

"You thanked me," he continued. "Unnecessary. Polite, though."

Serena didn’t respond. A conversation with a stranger in the trees was the last thing she had time for.

"You know, most people don’t keep running after the stabbing part. Bold choice." He moved closer but still didn’t show himself. "I was curious how far you’d make it. Turns out, farther than expected."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Your concern is noted. Unnecessary. Polite, though."

She heard him laugh behind her.

"Here’s the problem," he said. "You’re not actually going anywhere."

"You can try," he added lightly. "By all means. Prove me wrong."

Serena laughed under her breath. "That’s a lot of confidence for someone hiding in the dark."

"When you fall. I’m stepping in. That’s not a negotiation."

He watched her lock onto a fading scent and understood what she had been running toward.

The echo of her pain rode his nerves like a warning. He had already let this go on longer than he should have.

Just as he was about to say something else, Serena came up on a stream. Ice crusted the edges.

Surely she wouldn’t—

She would.

Dexmon: Alaric. I need a portal opened now.

Alaric: Location?

Dexmon: Northern forest, west of the river bend. She has collapsed. Blood loss and hypothermia.

Alaric: On my way.

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