The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 551

Chapter 551: He’s Not A Dog (Actually, I’m In)

"SERENA!"

Gavriel broke free. He ripped out of Hyran and Alaric’s grip with a surge of strength that should have been impossible given the hole in his chest and the blood soaking through his wraps and the fact that his lungs were operating at approximately forty percent capacity.

He moved at Alpha speed, covering the distance to the collapsing portal in under a second, his feet barely touching the stone, his body a green-lit blur that crossed the chamber before the word "STOP" finished leaving Alaric’s mouth.

He was across the green bridge and through the portal before it snapped shut. The chamber went silent. His bridge remained intact.

The stone floor was streaked with blood. The cuffs were still vibrating.

Alaric, Hyran, Maelor, and Aeron stood in the aftermath, staring at the empty space where the portal had been, wearing identical expressions. Because Gavriel Sterling, who had a puncture wound in his chest and two reopened lacerations and had been physically restrained by two of the most capable men in Drakenfell, had just moved at a speed so fast it was a blur.

Alaric looked at Hyran. "Did he just—"

"Yes."

"But he’s a Gamma."

"He was."

Alaric looked at his own hands. They were still in the grip position. His fingers were still curled around nothing.

Maelor walked over to the bridge and inspected it the way a sommelier inspects wine. He ran a finger along the edge. Frowned. Ran it again. The frown deepened. The bridge was structurally perfect. He let out a sigh theatrical enough to have its own curtain call.

"Fine. I suppose I’ll take the Gamma as well. Someone has to."

"I’ll train him if you don’t want to," Aeron offered.

Maelor lifted his chin. "This is Fae, Aeron. Last time I checked, you are the wrong species. He has dual archetypes as Serena does which makes me the most qualified person in this chamber."

"I’ve watched you enough with Serena to know the basics. It’s not that complicated," Aeron said.

Maelor’s spine straightened so fast it was practically an act of war. The temperature in the room dropped three degrees.

"He’s my mentee," Hyran cut in. "Both of you can calm down."

"He is NOT your mentee," Aeron and Maelor said in unison.

Hyran gave them a flat, unimpressed look. "Yes he is. But I’m reasonable. Here’s what we’ll do. We each call his name. The one he runs to is his trainer."

"I’m in," Aeron said.

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