The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 408

Chapter 408: Oh No. No No No. Absolutely—

Hyran received the invitation after returning from Shadowclaw. He read it twice. Checked it for magical interference. Held it up to the light. Then he went, because the only thing more dangerous than accepting an invitation from Bellatrix Drakenfell was declining one.

Elara received hers at the same time. She read it once. Laughed. Then she went, because the wine would be excellent and the manipulation would be entertaining, and Elara Vaelor did not turn down either.

"I realized something today," Bellatrix began, settling into her chair with the composed grace of a woman hosting a social engagement and the strategic intensity of a woman executing Step Three. "I have spent thirty years in this castle surrounded by remarkable people and I have failed to cultivate those relationships. Hyran, you are the most brilliant mage on the continent. Elara, you are the sharpest Beta Luna I have encountered in my lifetime. And I have been treating both of you as fixtures rather than allies, and I owe you both an apology and a glass of wine."

Hyran drank. The wine was exceptional, and if Bellatrix was going to manipulate him, he was going to be manipulated with Nightspire’s private reserve, and the reserve was worth the manipulation.

Elara pretended to drink.

"We share a common interest," Bellatrix continued. "We appreciate fine things. Quality. Standards. I see that in both of you. Hyran, your magical precision is a form of elegance. Elara, your ability to manage the Beta household while maintaining the social infrastructure of an entire pack is artistry."

"Your Grace is very kind this evening," Hyran commented, and the sentence carried the specific diplomatic neutrality of a man who was being complimentary about being complimented and trusted neither the compliments nor their source.

"I am being honest this evening, Hyran. The two are rarely the same thing, and tonight they happen to coincide."

Elara and Hyran exchanged a glance. The glance lasted one second and communicated an entire strategic assessment: She wants something. We do not yet know what. We stay until we know.

They stayed for two hours. Bellatrix was charming. Bellatrix was warm. Bellatrix asked questions about their work and listened to the answers with the focused attention of a woman who was investing in relationships she intended to leverage and was executing the investment with a competence that would have been admirable if it had been genuine.

It was forty percent genuine. That was thirty-eight percent more than usual.

✦✦✦

STEP FOUR: BECOME THE FAVORITE PARENT

Your children are your army. Win them, and he loses his strongest allies.

Bellatrix walked toward the Draken Forces training field carrying a wicker basket.

Inside the basket was a live chicken.

The chicken had been procured from the kitchens by Petra, who had told the head cook it was for a "private dinner" and had not elaborated, and the head cook had not asked, because requests from the queen’s attendant were fulfilled without questions and questions were answered with termination.

The chicken was calm. The chicken had no idea where it was going. The chicken was about to have a very confusing day.

Bellatrix’s logic was as follows: Dexmon had a dragon. The dragon ate things. She would bring the dragon a meal. This was motherly. This demonstrated investment in her son’s life. Favorite parent point.

She arrived at the field. Velkaris was at the far end, his massive golden frame sprawled in his preferred position, scales catching the light with the casual magnificence of a creature that understood its own grandeur and saw no reason to diminish it.

Bellatrix approached with the basket extended.

Velkaris lifted his head. His enormous eye, focused on the basket with the slow, deliberate attention of a wise dragon who was still capable of being surprised by human behavior.

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