The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 675

Chapter 675: Onyx Has Reviewed Your Proposal

Onyx did not want to leave.

His small body was planted on Fin’s chest, all four legs locked, tail wrapped around the unconscious king’s forearm. This was his post and his post was non-negotiable.

Aeron reached for him. Onyx’s wings flared. The flare was small because Onyx was small, but the energy behind it was colossal, carrying the full territorial fury of a bonded dragon whose person was unconscious and whose person was therefore vulnerable and whose vulnerability required a guardian and the guardian was him and the guardian was staying.

"Onyx." Aeron’s voice was steady. Patient. The patience was tactical. "He is going to be fine. You cannot stay on his chest for a week."

Onyx chirped. The chirp was loud, indignant, and carried the unmistakable frequency of yes I can, watch me.

"You are going to training."

He shook his head once, eyes saying: training can go to hell.

"Onyx."

The dragon pressed himself flatter against Fin’s chest, his chin tucking between his front paws, his body sinking into the space between his king’s ribs like he was trying to meld with the man through sheer commitment. His gold eyes didn’t blink. The not-blinking was a negotiation tactic he had learned from Fin, and the learning was producing results because Aeron’s jaw was tightening.

Aeron pinched the bridge of his nose.

Then the baby dragon remembered that Queen Bellatrix had mentioned new oil. Moonstone and coconut. And Petra had mentioned lamb today.

The dragon looked at Fin. Looked at Aeron. Looked at Fin again. His expression cycled through guilt, longing, more guilt, and the final resignation of a creature whose loyalty was iron but whose weakness for moonstone oil and lamb was structural.

He uncoiled from Fin’s chest slowly.

Aeron scooped him up. Onyx allowed it with the rigid, offended posture of a creature being carried against his will toward something he secretly wanted.

Then Aeron paused, looking down at Onyx. He sniffed. "Is that coconut?"

Aeron ran a finger across the dragon’s flank. Looked at the residue. Brought it to his nose.

"Why do you smell like a spa."

✦✦✦

DRAKENFELL - JUVENILE DRAGON TRAINING FIELD

They landed at the Drakenfell training field fourteen minutes later.

The field was the same as always. Handlers barking. Juvenile dragons running formation drills. Handler Caelum standing at his post looking like a man whose authority had been systematically dismantled by two women and a baby dragon and whose authority was rebuilding itself one morning at a time.

Then Onyx saw the board.

A new training schedule had been posted on the field notice wall. The parchment was fresh. The ink was dark. The handwriting was precise in a way that Onyx had never seen on this board before, each letter formed with the deliberate formality of someone whose penmanship predated the modern alphabet.

0530 — Altitude Drills (Minimum Ceiling: 400 Meters) 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

The exhale that came from his nostrils was long, deliberate, and translated roughly to: we are absolutely not doing that.

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