The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 476

Chapter 476: A Gamma And A Magnet Walk In

"I feel fine."

"Noted," Alaric said, holding a tuning fork against Gavriel’s collarbone. Hyran’s tuning fork.

Rook: They are taking turns and sharing.

"I have felt fine since I woke up."

"Also noted."

"Then why am I still here?"

"Because ’fine’ is a word patients use and ’cleared’ is a word healers use, and one of those words outranks the other, and the ranking is not in your favor."

"Arm up," Hyran instructed on his other side. "Left."

"This is ridiculous."

Gavriel raised his left arm. Hyran passed the tuning fork along the underside, from shoulder to wrist. The pitch climbed again at the shoulder. Descended at the elbow. Stabilized at the wrist.

"Other arm."

Gavriel rolled his eyes and raised his right arm. The fork hummed evenly. Stable. Baseline. Unremarkable.

"Interesting," Hyran murmured.

"I am begging both of you to stop saying words like ’interesting’ and ’different’ and ’anomalous’ while poking me with things and start saying words like ’cleared’ and ’fine’ and ’get out of my office.’"

"You are in my office," Alaric corrected from behind him. "And you are none of those things until I say you are."

Hyran produced the purple vial. Uncorked it. Held it six inches from Gavriel’s chest.

The liquid inside the vial moved. Toward Gavriel. The surface tilted, defying gravity, the fluid climbing the glass wall nearest to his body as if drawn by a magnet.

Hyran pulled the vial back. The liquid settled.

"Oh come on," Gavriel said.

Hyran held it close again, ignoring Gavriel. The liquid surged toward Gavriel a second time. Stronger.

Hyran corked the vial. Set it down. Picked up the crystal rod. The rod was clear, transparent, the kind of instrument mages used to isolate magical frequencies the way a prism isolated light.

He held the rod in front of Gavriel’s chest. Rotated it. Slowly.

The rod caught something. A faint shimmer appeared inside the crystal, gold in color. Hyran rotated the rod further. A second shimmer appeared. Different frequency. Different color. Green, faint, threaded through the gold like ivy through a fence.

Hyran froze.

"What now?" Gavriel asked.

Hyran didn’t answer.

He looked entirely too excited by whatever the hell he was seeing.

His eyes were still on the rod. The gold shimmer pulsed. The green thread wound through it. Both frequencies existed in the same crystal, occupying the same space, coexisting in a pattern that Hyran was reading like a language whose alphabet he recognized and whose sentence he had never encountered.

"Hyran. What."

The mage didn’t respond.

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