The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 486

Chapter 486: Pink Comet Off A Volcano

"You were ignored because you predict robes will be catastrophically inappropriate for every climate, including indoors," Aeron said.

"Indoors has drafts. Drafts are a climate."

Fin exhaled. Slow. Controlled. The exhale of a man whose instincts were already tingling because he recognized the way Serena’s body was angling toward the edge and the angling was producing a dread in his chest that was pre-verbal and post-rational.

Clouds stretched beneath the volcano in a thick white sprawl, a canopy so dense it looked solid from above, as if you could walk on it, which you absolutely could not, and the could-not was the kind of lesson this sky would teach with enthusiasm and zero mercy.

The air was hot. Sulfuric. Carrying the specific warmth of a place that existed near active magma and had opinions about visitors.

Serena was already at the edge. Pink eyes blazing. Hair lifted. Body oriented toward the drop with the calm, directional certainty of a woman whose ancestors were driving and whose GPS was ancient and whose destination was somewhere at the bottom of a cliff they could not see the bottom of.

"Serena, wait," Fin said, already tensing.

Pointless.

She was already gone.

She launched.

Possessed Serena went off the cliff at Alpha speed. One second she was standing at the ledge, and the next second she was airborne, her body cutting through the steam at a velocity that erased her from visibility in under a second. Pink light trailed behind her like a comet’s tail, burning through the white void, and then the void swallowed the pink and she was gone.

Fin didn’t hesitate. He had been three feet away and the three feet became zero and the zero became airborne in the span of a single heartbeat. His body punched through the steam wall after her, jaw locked, his trajectory a line drawn between himself and the woman he was following off a cliff for the third goddamn time.

The steam swallowed him.

A pink parachute detonated at that moment.

Dex and Gavriel stood at the edge.

They looked at each other.

The look lasted one second. One second that contained an entire conversation conducted between two men who had been jumping into stupid odds together since they were fourteen and whose fourteen had produced a friendship built on the specific foundation of mutual enthusiasm for terrible decisions.

Dex’s mouth twitched. The twitch was the twitch of a man who was about to jump off a volcanic cliff and whose about-to was producing something adjacent to excitement and whose excitement was being mirrored by the man standing beside him.

Gavriel grinned. The grin was the grin. Full wattage. Unfiltered. The specific expression of a Gamma who was standing next to his prince on the edge of a cliff above a boiling void on a continent they couldn’t identify and whose standing was producing the exact same feeling it had produced every time they had been in over their heads since they were teenagers.

Without a word, they ran.

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