The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 409

Chapter 409: Bored, Surrounded By Idiots, & Needs A Fucking Wardrobe

"Fine," she said to the sky. "Fine."

She sat up. Picked Onyx up with both hands, lifting him off her chest with the practical efficiency of a woman who had decided that if she was going to be humiliated, she was going to be humiliated on her feet.

Onyx settled into her arms immediately. His head found the crook of her elbow. His tail curled around her forearm. His eyes closed halfway, and the chirping dimmed to a steady, contented purr that vibrated through her ribcage.

She looked at the handlers, who were watching with expressions that ranged from stunned to terrified. She looked at the dragon in her arms, who was looking back at her with an adoration that was chemically indistinguishable from love.

"He is coming with me," Bellatrix announced. "He is bored, he is surrounded by idiots, and he could use a proper wardrobe. I will return him when I decide to return him."

She did not ask permission. Queens did not ask permission. Queens informed.

The nearest handler opened his mouth. Then he closed it. Then he looked at the other handlers for support. The other handlers had developed a sudden interest in the horizon.

She turned and walked off the field carrying a baby dragon the way other women carried lapdogs, her stride unbroken, her chin elevated, her dignity reconstituting itself with every step.

Behind her, a blue-scaled juvenile dragon named Avalon watched Onyx leave in the arms of a woman who had never visited the field before today, and the look on Avalon’s face, as much as a dragon’s face could carry one, was the look of a creature who had been left behind while his friend went on an adventure and was deeply, profoundly jealous about it.

Avalon let out a low, mournful warble.

"He’ll be back," a handler said.

Avalon did not believe the handler.

He let out a cry, louder, directed at the gate Onyx had disappeared through. Then he lay down with his chin on the ground and his tail flat and stayed there for the rest of the afternoon.

✦✦✦

STEP FIVE: DEVELOP A MYSTERIOUS HEALTH CONCERN

A woman who is unwell cannot be abandoned. The court will not forgive a man who divorces a wife in fragile health. Use this.

Bellatrix was in her parlor. Petra was beside the window with a pen and parchment. Onyx was standing on a low table being measured by a tailor.

The tailor, a compact man named Matthis whose client list included the royal family and whose professional discretion had been tested by thirty years of fitting garments for people whose measurements were the least interesting thing about them, wrapped the measuring tape around Onyx’s chest with the practiced calm of a man who had been told to build a wardrobe for a dragon and had chosen to execute the commission rather than question it.

He had fitted armor for wolves, gowns for queens, and once, during a memorable week in his early career, a ceremonial sash for a horse. The dragon was new. The dragon was cooperating better than most of his human clients.

Onyx stood perfectly still. His wings were folded. His chin was lifted. His posture communicated the innate understanding that he was being fitted for something and the fitting deserved his cooperation.

"Chest pains," Petra suggested.

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