The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 46

Chapter 46: No Pain, No Reign

The moment Serena left to get ready with Elara, restlessness settled in.

Finally, it was evening. Serena time.

And then he saw her. Golden dress shimmering beneath a thick white cloak, peeking through when she moved. Hair pinned up, elegant.

She was devastating.

Dexmon still couldn’t believe she was his.

"Gods help me." He grinned, his eyes slow and shameless as they traveled the length of her. "You’re going to ruin me."

Her smile was wicked. "Did you miss me?"

"Yes," he answered with no hesitation. He pressed kisses along her neck, her jaw, her shoulder, anywhere he could reach.

She started to laugh.

And Dex had the urge to pick her up. But he knew better. So he settled for interlocking fingers.

Everyone rose to their feet the moment they entered.

The ritual hall was vast, far larger than the pack initiation grounds she had seen before. This one was underground, with no windows, and the seating was carved directly into stone.

At least three hundred were present, by Serena’s quick count. Dignitaries, elders, nobles, generals. All watching.

In the front, a crystal basin glowed with a dim flame.

Elara moved first, the silence of the hall swallowing every footfall. The silver trim of her gown caught the golden firelight and made her look lethal in silk.

Hyran raised his hand, voice rolling like thunder through the carved chamber.

"Elara Vaelor," he intoned, "do you step forth into this hall of blood and flame to take up the mantle of Beta Luna, as it was first sworn?"

Her voice rang clear and certain. "I do."

"Do you bind your life and loyalty to Drakenfell, to guard its people by blade and by breath, to lead the lost and steady the fallen, and to stand beside your Alpha King and your Luna Queen, until the last of your breath is spent?"

"I do."

Hale took his place beside her, holding an ancient dagger with the rune of the Beta etched into the pommel. He slashed his palm, blood hitting the basin.

He took Elara’s hand next, cutting her palm cleanly, reverently. Her blood fell next to his, two rivers mingling.

"Set your hand to the flame." Hyran’s voice echoed off the stone walls. "If your oath is true, it shall not burn."

Elara placed her hand in the fire, eyes still on Hale.

It roared to life. No longer a gentle flicker but a raging silver flame that lit the entire hall in cold brilliance.

The silver light surged into Elara like a bolt of power.

Gasps echoed from the audience. Nobles, warriors, and elders alike rose from their seats in awe.

Serena didn’t have a point of reference for what was considered normal in this ceremony. She had only seen herself and Elara get initiated into the pack. But judging by the crowd’s reaction, it wasn’t.

Hale looked stunned for only a second, then smiled. His chest swelled with pride, like Elara had just aced the test on the first try.

Serena caught it and grinned.

The basin dimmed, settling into a soft glow again, the flame steady.

"Let the designee for Luna and Queen come forward." Hyran’s tone shifted, heavier now, older.

Serena closed the distance, golden dress gleaming beneath her cloak, the hem whispering across the stone.

The hall was utterly silent.

Hyran turned to her, his voice carrying the weight of ages.

"Serena Frostborne," he intoned, "You stand within this hall to take upon yourself the oath of Princess of Drakenfell, and to be named Luna-to-come, Queen-in-waiting of this realm."

His words hung in the air like smoke.

"Do you swear by life and by oath to guard the people of Drakenfell as your own? To lead with measured wisdom, to grant mercy without frailty, and justice without vanity?"

"I do."

"Do you bind yourself to this land and to its long memory, to bear the Crown not as conquest nor reward, but as a charge carried for those who cannot carry it themselves?"

"I do."

"Please kneel."

She lowered herself to one knee. King Tiberon emerged from the shadows, silent and solemn, a gold crown in his hands. He placed it on Serena’s head.

The instant it touched her, light exploded from the crown, blinding and brilliant.

The audience gasped. Several nobles raised their hands to shield their eyes. Others turned their faces away.

The golden light pulsed once, then surged downward through Serena’s body, her skin and hair glowing from within.

Tiberon’s jaw tightened. His eyes never left Serena, sharp and assessing.

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