The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Ma’am, This Is a Ritual

The door slammed open, hitting the wall with a crack. Gavriel filled the frame, chest heaving.

"Get up. We need to go. Right now."

Serena and Elara both shot to their feet, fully vertical before the last word landed.

"What happened?"

Gavriel held the tension for two seconds longer than any decent person would.

"Nothing. Just checking your reflexes." He looked at Serena. "Ten out of ten."

Serena grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at his head so hard it split open, showering him in feathers.

"What?" He spat out a feather, grinning with his arms raised in surrender.

Elara lowered herself onto the bed very slowly. "I’m going to kill him before we get initiated, Serena."

When the last feather landed, Gavriel then fully took in Serena. He froze. It was brief. A quarter-second glitch in an otherwise impeccable performance of casual indifference.

"You, uh..." he cleared his throat, then gave a crooked grin. "You look significantly less half-dead than yesterday. Borderline stunning, even. Disgusting."

Serena rolled her eyes. "And you look like someone tried to smuggle sarcasm through customs and failed."

Gavriel clutched his chest. "That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me."

Elara snorted. "You’ve known each other two days. Act like it."

"Fair. Shall we?" He offered his arm with the exact amount of sarcasm required to make it unclear whether he was being chivalrous or mocking. Both, probably.

They moved through the halls at a steady pace. Stares followed Serena, per usual. More than Gavriel expected. He shifted closer to her after the first corridor.

It didn’t help.

The gazes changed, sliding from who is that to is she with him. Gavriel’s mouth almost curved. Almost. He was a professional. Professionals don’t grin like idiots in hallways. That was a Dexmon move.

"I have a theory about you," he said to Serena, hands clasped behind his back like a man taking a stroll.

"Keep it."

"Too late. Here it is. You look like trouble but pretend like you don’t know it."

"I do not." Serena shot him a look that would have made a lesser man forget his own name.

Gavriel didn’t blink, absorbing it like sunlight. "Cute. Save that look for Hyran at the ceremony. That’s his love language."

"Are you two going to do this the entire walk?" Elara snapped.

"Probably," they answered in unison, then both looked mildly alarmed that they’d done that.

The ritual grounds came into view, tucked within an old stone courtyard behind the castle. At its center stood a weathered altar. Behind it, a large crystal basin glowed faintly, a dim fire as the only source of light.

Serena slowed as they approached. Déjà vu pulsed under her chest without reason or warning.

Dexmon’s breath hitched when he saw her.

Was it possible she was more beautiful than he remembered? Every time. Every single time he saw her, his brain did this. Like his memory was deliberately underselling her so reality could hit harder.

But then he felt something. An emotion pressed against the edge of his mind. Powerful. Not his.

He frowned. And then it clicked.

She was trying to remember something.

He’d felt it before, when she met Velkaris. He hadn’t been present then, caught in a meeting, and had assumed the sensation was his own.

Now he knew better.

And he wished, fiercely, that he could ask her why.

Bellatrix zeroed in on Serena from across the ritual ground. Serena met her eyes with a quiet curiosity—like someone studying a puzzle rather than engaging in war.

Beside her, Elara froze mid-step grabbing Serena’s arm.

Serena looked down at Elara’s hand. Then followed her line of sight.

Standing next to Dexmon, straight-backed and wide-eyed, was Hale Ironholt, Beta of Drakenfell.

His massive frame was still as stone, except for his jaw, which had gone completely slack. He looked like someone had just thrown a lightning bolt into his frontal lobe.

His eyes were glued to Elara.

Serena’s lips twitched. She glanced between them once, then wisely said nothing.

"Oh for fuck’s sake," Bellatrix hissed, clearly unbothered by the sanctity of the grounds.

"Yes. That does smell good," Elara said quickly, shaking her head once. She then continued walking with the rigid posture of someone who absolutely was not thinking about what just happened.

Serena wasn’t sure if she was speaking to her just then or to herself.

Hale hadn’t blinked. Possibly hadn’t breathed.

His lips parted.

"Hale. I am—hi." The words came out mangled, like his brain had loaded them in the wrong order.

Gavriel’s face went through six expressions in two seconds, all of them delighted.

Just as Serena and Elara took their places, Hale opened his mouth again.

"You smell nice." He flashed a boyish grin that looked far too sincere for a man his size.

Gavriel and Dexmon glanced at one another in perfect unison, then both looked away just as fast. Gavriel converted his laugh into a rough cough. Dexmon lifted his hand to his chin like he’d suddenly been struck by a deeply philosophical thought.

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