The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 86

Chapter 86: He Called Her A Whore. Dexmon ROARED.

"This ends badly for everyone if you keep going," Hyran said evenly, voice carrying authority without volume. "You are inside a High Council tent. You are threatening the Dragon Prince’s bonded. You do not want what follows."

Viremont’s mouth twitched.

"Spare me your lecture, mage."

The silver around Serena’s wrists and throat cinched tighter.

She stifled a gasp, pain flaring white hot as the metal bit into her skin, stripping the air from her lungs. Her knees buckled, only Viremont’s grip keeping her upright.

Viremont leaned closer, his breath brushing Serena’s hair. He inhaled slowly in a way that made her skin crawl.

Fin surged again, snarling, but was held back.

"So this is Frostborne," Viremont said softly. "I wonder if King Tiberon would still look at you the same way if you were stripped of all that polish."

"Reginald," Hyran warned. "You are crossing a line that cannot be walked back."

The knife pressed harder. A thin line of blood slid down Serena’s neck. Her Hidden Flame mark flared hot. She was fighting the urge to burn him, instincts taking over.

Hale’s voice cut into her mind, sharp and controlled.

Hale: Stay calm. Hold position.

She closed her eyes for a second, forcing her nerves back. Forcing herself to calm. To focus. They needed to identify all five traitor packs. Before the invasion tonight. She knew that.

King Tiberon: Status.

Hale: Viremont has a blade to her throat. Accusing her of framing Agnes.

King Tiberon: En route. What additional traitors are confirmed?

Gav: Hollowcrown and Grimward.

Hale: Ashbourne and Dreadmoor had weapons drawn on her two days ago. Status uncertain. Monitoring for escalation.

King Tiberon: Understood. Lock the room down. No sudden movements. Anyone who tightens steel answers for it.

Her vision swam, gold sparks flaring uselessly behind her eyes.

"Portal," Viremont snapped to Hyran. "Now."

There was no need. The tent entrance tore open.

King Tiberon strode in, armored, eyes blazing with fury. Dexmon was right behind him.

"Drop the weapon," Tiberon commanded.

"Get. Me. My. Daughter."

The room went deadly still.

"Give us Serena, and your daughter walks free."

King Ashbourne lunged, putting himself between Dexmon and Viremont, blade at the prince’s throat.

Hale: Ashbourne confirmed.

King Tiberon lifted one hand, palm out, a clear signal to everyone in the tent.

"This is a war summit," he said. "We are allies. This does not become a hostage situation."

Viremont laughed.

The sound was thin and wild.

The knife moved.

Not a clean cut. A slash.

A pained grunt escaped her throat, bitten off before it could become a scream. Blood spilled down her neck, gold catching the light as it ran over her skin.

Viremont did not notice. Everyone else did.

He stepped forward. No one replaced the men he’d broken through, because every instinct in the room was saying the same thing: do not get between that and what it wants.

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