The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate-Chapter 111: Dick-Size Contest

Gold light pulsed under her skin in erratic waves, like a fire that had run out of fuel and was burning the container instead.

Serena lay on the bed, her body radiating heat like a furnace.

Hyran’s hands hovered over her, jaw tight. "She’s overloaded. The magic has nowhere to go."

Aeron stood on her other side. They exchanged a look. Neither had answers.

The tent flap ripped open and Alaric strode in, medical bag already in hand. He took one look at Serena, muttered something under his breath, and pulled out a syringe.

"What is that?" Fin demanded.

"Fever reducer. Her body is cooking itself." Alaric didn’t wait for permission. He jabbed the needle into her arm and depressed the plunger. "This buys us minutes, not solutions. So if anyone has a brilliant idea, now would be the time."

Silence.

In the distance, Velkaris roared. The sound shook the ground beneath their feet.

Every Hidden Flame mark in the room flared white-hot.

Hyran’s hand flew to his own mark. Even Alaric winced, though he tried to hide it.

Fin hissed through his teeth, gripping his forearm. It hurt more than usual. He pulled up his sleeve, and watched a mark sear onto his skin in real-time.

He’d seen a similar one on Serena when he peeled her out of her combat suit, the first night he marked her. It had disappeared by morning and he hadn’t seen it since. So he assumed it was tied to her blood oath and only revealed at certain times.

But he had no explanation for why one was being carved into his arm right now.

Hyran’s eyes flicked to it. Then to Fin’s face. He said nothing.

Alaric noticed too. His expression didn’t change, but his gaze lingered a moment too long before returning to Serena.

The tent flap burst open again.

Dexmon stormed in, chest heaving. His mark was burning too.

He moved past Fin like he wasn’t even there, dropping beside the bed, his hand finding Serena’s face. Her skin was scorching beneath his palm.

"What is wrong with her?"

"She overpowered herself." Hyran’s voice was grim. "To a degree I’ve never seen before."

Everyone’s marks flared hotter. Alaric cursed under his breath.

Velkaris roared again from outside, closer now. The sound was different this time. Irritation. Impatience.

Dexmon’s head snapped towards the sound. Something passed across his face. Understanding.

He didn’t hesitate. He scooped Serena into his arms and stood.

Fin moved like lightning, blocking the exit. His eyes blazed molten gold, Xeon surging to the surface. When he spoke, his voice came out layered.

"Where the hell do you think you’re going?"

Dexmon’s voice was also layered, his and Aegon’s, woven together.

"Saving her life, you overgrown house cat. Move."

Fin didn’t move.

"That’s my mate in your arms. Put her down before I make a coat out of you, Pup."

"You aren’t even housebroken. Go back to obedience school," Aegon fired back through Dexmon.

"She has my mark. My venom. My claim. Put. Her. Down." Fin’s voice had dropped out entirely. This was all Xeon now.

"She moaned my name before you ever touched her. Go fetch your own mate."

"Take a seat, son. She was moaning my name last night no problem," Xeon growled. "She deserves an Alpha King. Not a whiny prince."

"An Alpha King who lost his mate to a prince. Sit. Down."

"I will kick your ass."

"Fine. Right now. Let’s go," Aegon snarled.

Aeron’s eyes were going back and forth in fascination. A genuine smile on his face. Like it was the coolest thing he’d seen in his life. He leaned towards Hyran and whispered, "Are they aware when it happens?"

Hyran didn’t look up. "They do not care."

"Incredible." Aeron pulled a small journal from his coat and uncapped a pen.

Hyran’s hand came down flat on it. "Absolutely not."

"ENOUGH." Alaric’s voice cracked through the tent like a whip. "She’s dying. Sort out your dick-size contest later."

"For the record, I was prepared to follow through. Your human blinked first," Aegon said through Dexmon.

"Your human blinked too," Xeon shot back.

Gavriel chose that exact moment to appear in the tent entrance, taking in the scene: two grown alphas in a standoff over an unconscious woman while a very irritated dragon roared outside.

"I leave for ten minutes," Gavriel said, surveying the chaos with the serenity of a man who had accepted his life. "Ten. Minutes." He looked at Alaric. "Is she dying or are they just being dramatic?"

"Both," Alaric said, not looking up.

Gav’s Hidden Flame mark was searing. He already knew the answer before he asked. But he had to say something to ease the tension that could be felt from outside the damn tent. Or the two alphas causing it were going to combust before Serena got the chance to.

He forced himself to look away from her.

Fin’s jaw worked, fighting his wolf for control. He hated Dexmon. Every muscle in his body screamed to tear Dexmon apart. But Serena’s breathing was growing shallower. Her pulse was racing. The gold beneath her skin was flickering now, unstable.

He stepped aside. Barely.

Dexmon shot him a glare and carried Serena out of the tent, moving fast.

Velkaris was waiting.

The dragon’s massive head swung towards them the moment they emerged. His eyes locked onto Serena’s glowing form, and he opened his mouth wide.

Not to breathe fire.

To inhale.

Gold magic streamed out of Serena in ribbons. Velkaris pulled it from her like venom from a wound, his chest expanding as he absorbed the overflow.

All Hidden Flame marks stopped burning. The searing heat faded to warmth, then to nothing.

Color returned to Serena’s face. Her breathing steadied. Her body relaxed in Dexmon’s arms.

When Velkaris was finished, he raised his head to the sky and opened his mouth again.

Gold light erupted upward in a column, blazing through the clouds, illuminating the camp like a second sun. It hung there for a moment, beautiful and terrible, before dissipating into the atmosphere.

He looked down at Serena, then at Dexmon, and made a sound that was almost smug.

You’re welcome.

Dexmon stared at his dragon for a long moment.

Aegon: He’s been practicing that look.

Dex: He absolutely has.

Velkaris snorted smoke in what could only be described as self-satisfaction and turned his enormous head away, already done with the conversation.

Dexmon carried Serena back into the tent and laid her on the bed. The gold beneath her skin had dimmed to nothing, leaving her looking small and spent against the sheets. Her white hair fanned across the pillow.

Fin was beside the bed before Dexmon straightened, checking her pulse, brushing the hair from her face, his hand lingering on her jaw.

Dexmon’s wolf surged. He swallowed it.

Not now.

Alaric moved in behind them, already pulling supplies from his bag. "Her vitals are stabilizing. Whatever Velkaris did, it worked. But she’s going to be unconscious for a while. Her body needs to reset." He glanced between the two alphas hovering over the same woman like rival dogs over a bone. "And she needs space. Physical space."

Neither moved.

Alaric looked at Dexmon. Then at Fin. Two alphas standing on opposite sides of the same unconscious woman, radiating enough territorial energy to flatten a small village.

He pulled a flask from his coat. Took a drink. Put it back.

"I went to twelve years of medical school," he said, to no one in particular.

Hyran stood near the entrance, arms crossed, watching everything.

The tent flap opened.

Riven Nightspire entered with no apologies. He looked like hell. A cut above his left eyebrow, half-sealed. Dirt and ash on his battle armor. Battle-worn in a way that Nightspire never allowed himself to appear in public.

He surveyed the tent.

"I’ve seen less tension at executions. And I’ve attended several."