The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Gavriel Sterling Says Fuck No

Gavriel was lying against his dragon, Solara, bleeding out.

All he could think about was Serena. Was she safe?

That was the only thought that mattered. She had saved their lives in the throne room, bleeding out herself, unable to breathe, still standing between them and death.

Every time he turned around, she was in another situation. He chuckled at the thought.

He had grown to care for her. There was no question. He couldn’t get his mind off of her, dying or not.

The mark on his arm was still burning.

No. Not burning.

Screaming.

He had a hunch. She was the chosen one they were sworn to protect. It was a blood oath taken by all dragon bloodlines in Drakenfell since the dawn of time. It was a hidden brotherhood, never spoken of, and one decided at birth.

Technically all Drakenfell bondeds would need to be initiated. So she was already a member even if she didn’t know it yet.

Except Serena was a girl.

So they might need to rethink the name.

Then he noticed his dragon light gold, the same color as the magic surrounding him. He smiled, knowing exactly who had done that.

He was not sure how much time had passed. His consciousness drifted in and out, the world blurring at the edges.

Then he sensed someone approaching.

He knew it was her by her scent.

She grabbed his hand. Elara was beside her, silver magic spilling from her palms. He felt warmth from it, a faint pull toward life, but it was not strong enough.

He wanted to say, since when can you do that?

No words came.

He smelled tears on Serena and saw her crying, and something in his chest cracked. He wanted to make her laugh.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything. But he choked on his own blood.

Then darkness.

It held him for a minute.

Then pain returned.

It surged back all at once. Wounds that had already numbed as his body shut down, preparing to die, flared back to life. He felt all of them again, sharp and unforgiving.

Then warmth followed.

It spread through him slowly, deliberately. He felt wounds begin to close. Flesh knitting. Blood slowing.

His broken back cracked back into place. His ribs shifted and reset with sickening pops. His lungs sealed, breath coming easier. His heart steadied, finding a rhythm again.

And then he tasted it.

The sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

It came from the scent that had been driving him insane for two weeks, but stronger. Deeper. More intoxicating than smell ever could be. It filled his mouth, his chest, his veins.

He could not get enough.

He sucked from the source, greedily drinking.

Warmth flooded him with every pull, stronger than anything he had ever felt. Sensation rushed back into his hands, sharp and sudden, and his fingers curled instinctively. He grabbed the source and held on, refusing to let it move.

Sparks danced across his skin where he touched it, crackling and alive, sending shivers through him as the energy continued to pour in.

He groaned and opened his eyes.

Serena’s face came into focus above him. Her expression shifted instantly, worry melting into relief. Only then did he notice he was gripping her hand.

Oh, fuck.

He let go of her immediately, the realization hitting hard. That taste in his mouth had been her blood. It still lingered on his tongue, sweet and intoxicating and wrong because he’d just—

He’d just fed from her.

His wolf surged, snarling and desperate, wanting to surface. Wanting to mark her. He had been fighting it since the first moment he caught her scent weeks ago. He’d been pushing it down constantly, until it bordered on madness.

And that just made it so much worse.

Serena fell forward onto him, and he caught her weight against his chest.

Shit.

Elara said something he could not quite hear. The words were muffled, distant. Her silver magic flashed over Serena’s hand, sealing the wound.

Cute, he thought faintly.

Bad timing, he thought. Impressively bad timing.

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