The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate

"Next time you’re about to sleep with someone you’re supposed to be friendzoning, I need you to picture my face. Disappointed. Like this."

Elara pointed at her own expression. "Burn it in your memory."

Serena pulled her knees up to her chest. "I don’t know how to want someone this much and tell them no."

They were sitting in their storage room for private conversations. She was cleared to be in Drakenfell for the afternoon, and Dex wasn’t in his quarters when she arrived.

She didn’t even know if Dex wanted to see her. But Gods, she missed him. She stared up at the ceiling, blinking back tears.

"The attempt in friendzoning Shadowclaw. Where did the mission go wrong?"

"I woke up on top of him in his bed and was about to say it. But he said he wasn’t going anywhere before I even got a word out."

"And did you try again? They will always push back Serena."

"Yes."

"Where and when?"

"I said friendzone to myself three times. While he was inside me in the shower." Serena said it fast, like ripping off a bandage. "He shut it down there before I could even voice it."

Elara’s entire face went through five stages of grief in four seconds.

Elara put both hands over her face. "Serena," she said through her fingers. "You said the word friendzone. While he was inside you."

"I was trying to stay committed."

"To what? The bit?"

"To the plan, Elara."

"The plan was dead. It washed away in the shower," she snapped.

"You said friendzone while mounted." She clapped once causing Serena to jolt. "And shocker, it didn’t work."

"I know." Serena’s voice cracked. She blinked back the burn refusing it. "I am going to have to friendzone Dex. It’s the right thing to do."

Elara stood, hand crossed behind her back. She began pacing like a drill sergeant.

"Listen to me. When you picked Dex you were crying over Shadowclaw. This will happen with either choice."

"You’re right. It still hurts, Elara."

Elara spun on her heel to face Serena mid-pace. "Enough of that. Try this: Dex, I really value our friendship." She paused. "Don’t make that face. Say it."

"Dex, I value our friendship. Our camaraderie."

"Good. You remembered. Next. Dex, I need to focus on myself right now." Elara folded her arms. "Classic. Timeless. Impossible to argue with."

"He will argue with it."

"That’s his problem."

"Can we do the next one, Elara?" Serena asked. "I think he’d kiss me if I told him that."

"Fine," Elara clipped. "Dex, I see you more as a companion on this journey."

Serena stared at her. "What journey?"

"Life, Serena. The journey of life."

Elara stopped pacing, then pulled Serena to her feet. She straightened Serena’s shoulders back like a coach preparing a boxer. "You will get this done because that’s who you are."

Serena wiped her eyes and nodded.

"Good. Try this: Dex, buddy. The keyword is buddy. Then say, I love you, but I’m not in love with you."

"But I am in love with him."

"I said repeat, not fact-check. You lie. That’s what the friendzone is. It’s lying with eye contact."

"Dex, buddy, I love you." Serena swallowed, then cracked a smile that made no sense. On brand for her emotions lately. "I don’t think I can do that one with a straight face."

Elara pinched the bridge of her nose with a large sigh. "Dex, I’m putting a pause on anything romantic between us."

"A pause."

"A pause. Not a stop. A pause sounds temporary. Men accept temporary."

"How long is the pause?"

"Forever, Serena. The pause is forever. But he doesn’t need to know that yet."

"Dex, I think we should pause." Serena shook her head. "Dex would pick me up if I said that."

Elara rubbed her temples. "I have a headache. You gave it to me."

Serena took a breath. "Dex, I care about you deeply, but I think I need space to focus on myself. I am putting a pause on everything romantic between us."

"Excellent."

✦✦✦

Dex didn’t know Serena was in Drakenfell looking for him. He was already on the training field, trying to outrun his own restlessness.

Colonel Morholt took one look at Dex and Hale and straightened. His fist came to his chest in salute.

"Commander. General."

Dex returned the salute with a curt nod. Hale did the same.

The formality settled the air for exactly one second before Morholt’s gaze shifted from respectful to assessing. His eyes moved over them both with the clinical detachment of a man who answered to rank but answered to results first.

Morholt nodded once. "Then you won’t mind demonstrating that your conditioning hasn’t suffered for it." He clasped his hands behind his back. "With your permission, Commander, I’d like to run a standard assessment. Eight laps. Then combat drills."

It was technically a request. The phrasing was correct. Morholt reported to Hale, who reported to Dex, and the chain of command was clean.

But the way he said it made it sound an awful lot like an order wearing a polite coat.

Dex held his gaze. He could have pulled rank. Could have dismissed the assessment entirely, walked to the edge of the field, and watched from the sideline while Morholt put the regiment through its paces.

But he’d been been gone. If he wanted the Draken Forces to respect him as their Commander, not as the prince who’d been compromised by dark magic and sidelined for weeks, he needed to earn it back. Starting here.

"Run it," Dex said.

Morholt didn’t smile. But something in his expression shifted, a fraction of approval that he buried immediately.

"Laps. Eight. No Alpha speed."

Aegon:You could outrun every man on this field.

Dex:That’s not the point.

Aegon:The point is that he looked at us like we’ve gone soft.

Dex:Then let’s prove him wrong.

They ran.

Hale kept pace beside him, jaw set, arms pumping. To his credit, Hale didn’t complain, which was unusual. The silence meant he was channeling the same frustration Dex was: the restlessness, the sting of being sent out of the room, the knowledge that they were running laps for a Colonel they outranked.

By the fourth lap, the rhythm settled into something almost meditative. Dex’s muscles burned, reminding him that Morholt wasn’t wrong. Weeks of portals and combat bursts and healing weren’t the same as sustained conditioning. His stamina was there, but the edge was dulled.

He hated that Morholt was right almost as much as he hated that Tiberon was.

By the eighth lap, warriors on the field had taken notice. The Commander and High General, running the same assessment as every recruit. No shortcuts. No rank exemptions.

Morholt watched them cross the line and said nothing for a long moment.

"Combat drills," he said. "Pair off."

Dex and Hale looked at each other.

"Don’t hold back," Dex said.

Hale cracked his neck. "Wasn’t planning on it."