The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 461

Chapter 461: She Swatted A Fly. The Fly Was Thor.

Thor’s wolf, still receiving zero response from the play bow, escalated.

He rolled onto his back. Full belly-up. Paws in the air. Tongue lolling to one side. The submissive position that, on any other wolf, would communicate deference and vulnerability. On Thor’s wolf, it communicated "look at my abs."

Aurelia tilted her head again. Same direction as before. Same confusion. Her golden eyes tracked the upside-down wolf with the careful attention of a creature trying to determine whether this was a threat, a game, or a medical event.

She could rule out threat. She had zero framework for the other two.

Thor’s wolf rolled back onto all fours. Shook himself once. Reset.

Aurelia turned her head and looked at Tiberon.

The look was direct. Patient. Expectant. A wolf looking at the only person on this field whose instructions she understood, asking him with her eyes if the weird wolf was finished doing whatever the weird wolf was doing.

"Basic defensive," Tiberon repeated. His voice carried no inflection. His face carried less.

Thor’s wolf sat up straight. Spine rigid. Chest out. Then he lifted one front paw and held it at an angle against his brow.

A salute. In wolf form. He had invented it. Nobody had asked for it.

Tiberon stared at the paw.

The paw held.

Then Tiberon turned away without acknowledging it, because acknowledging it would mean the salute existed, and if the salute existed, Thor would do it at every formation, every drill, every briefing, and every meal for the remainder of his military career and possibly into retirement.

Captain Halvek appeared at the edge of the field. He gave Tiberon a nod. Professional. Efficient. The nod of a man who had been managing Thor Crushturn for years and whose nod carried the specific weariness of that tenure.

He blew the whistle.

Aurelia flinched. Her ears flattened and her body tensed. The sound cut through her skull at a frequency she hated, a sharp, piercing shriek that served absolutely no purpose that a verbal command could accomplish and that the man with the whistle kept using.

The man with the whistle enjoyed the whistle and the enjoyment was personal and the personal was unnecessary and she wanted the whistle destroyed.

Thor’s wolf did not attack.

Instead, he howled.

Unprompted. Unnecessary. Unrelated to anything the drill required. A long, sustained, operatic howl that erupted from his chest and rolled across the training field and bounced off the castle walls and carried into the eastern forest where it probably confused several birds.

The howl had vibrato. He held the final note for four seconds longer than any wolf should hold any note, because Thor’s wolf treated silence as an enemy and this howl was the opening salvo of a war he intended to fight alone.

When the howl ended, he looked at the crowd.

The crowd did not howl back. The crowd stared at him with the collective expression of two hundred people who had just watched a wolf perform an aria before a basic defensive drill.

Thor’s wolf didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

He began circling Aurelia.

First circle: sizing her up. His wolf moved at a measured pace, eyes tracking her body, her stance, her position, reading the wolf the way a soldier reads an opponent before engagement.

Aegon: He is circling our mate. CIRCLING. That is a mating display. I am going to kill him.

Dex: Get in line. You are not the only wolf in this body who wants to kill him.

Aegon: Then why are we standing here?

Dex: Because my father is ten feet away and being removed from training a fourth time is not happening.

Xeon: Mate is confused. She does not understand what he is doing. He needs to stop. Make him stop.

Fin: I will handle it after the drill.

Xeon: After? AFTER? He is CIRCLING our mate right now. We handle this NOW.

Fin: We handle this after. I am not getting kicked out again.

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