The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 455

Chapter 455: Chess In Fucking God-Mode

Gavriel peeled the bandage off, the adhesive pulling at his skin, and looked at what was underneath.

Something was glowing. It was shaped like something, but the shape was unfamiliar, and the glow was interesting, and the interesting was sitting on his shoulder doing absolutely nothing threatening.

He tilted his head. The second he touched it, he winced. Not because it hurt, but because it was more sensitive than he realized it would be.

His wolf was still silent in his mind.

"Huh."

Gav shrugged. He had just watched himself die in a past life and woke up alone in a room with empty whiskey glasses. A glowing mark on his shoulder was, by the current day’s standards, unremarkable.

He pulled on a training suit.

The training suit fit, which meant his body hadn’t changed much during the coma, which was either good news or evidence that comas were an underrated weight maintenance strategy. He would keep that joke for Dex.

Dex would hate it. Hating it was the point.

He was starving. He also wanted to know what the hell had happened. And why no one was in the room. How long had he been knocked out?

Did he fight off the dark magic killing him?

Because last time he checked the dark magic was winning, and now he was standing in his room alone wearing a training suit with a glowing mark on his shoulder and zero context for any of it.

He opened his door.

The corridor was empty. Quiet. Suspicious. Drakenfell always had a crisis and the crises rotated on a schedule that Gavriel had long suspected was managed by the Moon Goddess for her personal entertainment.

He turned the corner.

Elara screamed.

The scream was immediate, involuntary, high-pitched, and accompanied by her hand flying to her chest with the specific velocity of a woman whose cardiovascular system had just been ambushed by a man who was supposed to be unconscious.

"GODS."

Gavriel blinked. "Hey."

Elara stared at him. Her eyes were wide. Her hand was still on her chest. Her breathing was the breathing of a woman whose heart rate had just tripled and whose body was deciding whether the tripling was fear or relief and had settled on both.

"Oh good," she said after a moment, her voice finding its footing. "You’re awake."

"I am awake."

"That’s great. That is wonderful. Welcome back."

Her voice was brighter than usual.

Gavriel looked at her. The Beta Luna was radiating anxiety at a volume that was not like her one bit.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Oh yes." The answer came immediately. Too immediately. The speed of a response that had been prepared before the question was asked, which meant the response was a reflex rather than an assessment, and reflexive responses from Elara Vaelor were rare enough to constitute a data point.

"What about you?" she asked, steering the conversation away from herself. "You were out for days, Gav. Are you okay to be walking? Any strange symptoms?"

"Strange?" Gavriel repeated.

The word sat between them in the corridor. Strange. Yes. The answer was yes. The answer was a past life viewed in comprehensive, heartbreaking detail that had rewritten his understanding of himself, his relationships, and his purpose on this continent.

The answer was a love that predated this body and a grief that outlasted the last one and a hunger that was consuming his ability to think about anything except food.

"I’m starving," he said. "Last I remember, I was dying."

"Right." Elara nodded. Fast. "A lot happened. I will fill you in. Let’s get food. Food is a great idea. Let’s go."

She was already walking.

Gavriel followed. His legs were stiff.

She shot him a sideways glance after a minute. "Has your wolf said anything since you woke up?"

"My wolf has been quiet. Are you alright? You’re acting strange."

"I’m fine," she said, a little too quickly. "You missed a few things while you’ve been out."

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