The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 502

Chapter 502: Mate, You Dumb-Dumb

The stone was silent. The silence was absolute. The absolute was producing a panic in Dexmon’s chest that he was converting into action because action was the only alternative to screaming and screaming would help no one.

Dex: Gavriel, status. NOW.

Meanwhile, the tunnel around Gavriel warbled. Shifted. The walls breathed. The ceiling contracted. The geometry of the space was changing around him like the throat of something alive, and the alive was swallowing, and the swallowing was producing a claustrophobia that he was stamping down with both boots because claustrophobia was a luxury he could afford exactly never.

"Serena?" he called, voice sharp, echoing into the dark. "Serena, where are you?"

His eyes strained as they adjusted, hands sweeping over cold stone. Empty. She wasn’t there.

No answer. Then he heard her. Soft. Fractured. Terrified.

"Gav..." Her voice trembled. "Gav, please..."

He froze. It was her voice. Perfect. Every inflection was right. But it came from the walls. All around him.

"Please... please..." the voices whispered, overlapping, breaking apart and reforming.

"I’m lost..."

He felt her fear spike through the matebond, sharp enough to make his chest ache. He could smell her. Close. Too close to be unseen.

His hands curled into fists. His brain was screaming run toward her and his training was screaming hold position and the screaming was producing a split down the center of his decision-making that was physically painful.

Gavriel spoke into their mindlink, forcing his voice steady.

Gavriel: Serena, where are you?

Her answer came ragged, fraying at the edges.

Serena: Gav... I keep hearing your voice.

Cold dread slid down his spine.

Before he could respond, Dexmon cut in, fast and firm.

Dexmon: It’s not real, Serena. None of it is. We’re hearing it too.

The mindlink was working. The cuffs were working. That was the only piece of good news in a situation that was otherwise constructed entirely of bad news stacked on top of worse news wearing a hat made of catastrophic news.

Gavriel froze as panic spiked again through his chest, sudden and vicious. Rook was howling in his mind.

The panic was wrong. It was his, but it wasn’t. The frequency was off. The texture was off. The panic tasted like someone else’s fear wearing his nervous system like a borrowed jacket.

Gavriel: That isn’t our panic.

Rook: No. MATE.

Gavriel: We are feeling her panic.

Rook: YES, you dumb-dumb. I have been SAYING this. You are FEELING her FEAR in your CHEST like it is YOUR fear. What else do you need? A letter? A certificate? A rune carved into your forehead that says MATE?

Gavriel: How do I feel her emotions this clearly, Rook?

Rook: Second chance mate.

Gavriel: She’s not our second chance mate. Fin is her second chance mate, Rook.

Rook: Fated to us too.

Gavriel: Since when?

Rook: Since we broke it with the crazy woman who was never our mate.

Gavriel: I was sitting in a courtroom with her after and didn’t feel it like this. What am I missing?

Rook: I told you she was mate in the courtroom. You were feeling her then too. Not to this degree but you were.

Fin: Serena, breathe. I feel you, baby. Take a breath. None of this is real.

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