The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 383

Chapter 383: Sit, Avalon. Sit. Good Boy. No. No Don’t—

DRAKENFELL — BETA QUARTERS

Hale Ironholt was teaching his dragon to sit.

Avalon was the size of a large dog and had approximately one percent of a dog’s interest in following instructions. The baby dragon was perched on the arm of a chair that was visibly failing under his weight, his obsidian scales catching the firelight, his tail wrapped around the chair leg in a configuration that suggested he was comfortable and intended to remain comfortable regardless of whatever the enormous man in front of him was doing with his hands.

"Sit," Hale said.

Avalon tilted his head. The tilt was inquisitive, alert, carrying the particular expression of an intelligent creature that understood the word perfectly and was choosing to evaluate its merit before responding.

"Sit, Avalon. Sit."

Avalon remained standing on the chair arm. His wings shifted once, a micro-adjustment that could have been compliance-adjacent or could have been a stretch. The ambiguity was deliberate. Hale was certain of it.

"Good boy."

Avalon preened.

"That wasn’t a good boy. You didn’t sit. I said good boy preemptively to encourage the behavior, and you accepted the praise without delivering the result. That is fraud, Avalon."

Avalon chirped. The chirp was bright, musical, and carried the particular energy of a creature that had found a loophole in the reward system and intended to exploit it.

Hale produced a strip of dried meat from his pocket. Held it up. "Sit."

Avalon sat. Immediately. As if he had understood the command the entire time and had been waiting for the negotiation to include compensation.

"There it is." Hale gave him the meat. "You are manipulating me, and I respect it, but I need you to know that I see it happening."

Avalon ate the meat and chirped for another piece. The dragon knew which one of them was going to win this dynamic long-term.

The chamber door opened.

Elara walked in. Her stride was automatic, her body navigating the familiar room without conscious direction, her eyes fixed on a middle distance that suggested her mind was three rooms away processing something her body had left behind.

She didn’t see Hale. She didn’t see Avalon. She walked past both of them toward the dressing room, distracted.

"El."

She jumped. The jump was full-body, startled, the kind of flinch that happened when a person forgot they shared a room with a man the size of a wardrobe and a dragon the size of a retriever.

"Gods, Hale." Her hand went to her chest. "When did you get here?"

"I live here. I have lived here for several years. Avalon and I have been in this room for an hour. He learned to sit. It took bribery, but we got there."

Avalon chirped in confirmation.

Elara looked at the dragon. Looked at Hale. Looked at the strip of meat in his hand.

"What’s wrong?" Hale asked.

The question was simple. Hale Ironholt asked simple questions because simple questions were harder to dodge than complex ones.

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