The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate-Chapter 162: Courtesan Composure Then Crying In A Bath

The warmth at her back disappeared around a corner with Fin and a captain, and Serena stood alone in the entrance hall of a castle that wasn’t hers, surrounded by people who hadn’t decided yet whether she belonged.

When she was with Fin, the stares were curiosity. Alone, a third of them looked at her like she’d tracked mud into their home.

She’d thought she’d outgrown the flinch. Her body hadn’t gotten the message. Her shoulders pulled inward half an inch before she forced them back.

The two throne rooms she stormed had dirty looks too. But it stung more with wolves than it did with Fae.

In a castle full of strangers, confidence was the only armor that didn’t require magic. She kept her head up and started walking like she had somewhere to be.

By some grace, she found a set of glass double doors left ajar like an invitation, and Serena took it. A courtyard with a moss-edged fountain at its center. Flowers she couldn’t name. Silence that felt like permission to exhale.

"Excuse me."

Serena jumped, hand flying to her heart.

She turned to see a woman at the opposite entrance to the courtyard, one hand resting on the doorframe, the other holding a porcelain teacup like a scepter.

High cheekbones, dark hair pinned with gold, green silk that moved like water when she shifted her weight. Everything about her said she belonged here and Serena didn’t.

"These are private courtyards."

Serena dipped politely on instinct. Even if she was technically a princess. She was in someone else’s castle and she knew it.

"Apologies, I was walking and the doors were open. I didn’t realize this was private." Serena said, softly.

"Name," the woman demanded, not politely.

"Serena Frostborne."

"You are very pretty," she remarked. "Inconvenient."

Serena didn’t know what to do with that. "Thank you."

It came out before she could stop it. Serena had been raised polite. It was a sickness.

"Don’t thank me. It wasn’t a gift."

Serena mentally filed that under compliments that feel like a slap.

The woman sat on the stone bench across from her, crossing one leg over the other like she was holding court.

"Your clothes say soldier but your curtsy says servant, and I can’t tell which lie you’re more committed to. Where are you from, Serena?"

Serena’s brain was already building a profile. Beautiful. Comfortable in this castle in a way that wasn’t casual. Proprietary about the courtyard. On a first-name basis with the space, which meant she’d been here a long time.

Or lived here.

Either way, this woman had territorial energy that would make a dragon nervous.

The thought arrived before she could stop it: Was this someone Fin was seeing?

He said there hadn’t been anyone serious since his mate died. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t seeing women. And she was standing in front of a stunning one who moved through his castle like she owned it.

Serena found her voice after a second. "Born in Frostborne. But I am in Drakenfell now."

"As in Garrett’s Frostborne?"

"You know Garrett?"

Her face gave nothing away. "Yes."

Serena nodded. "I grew up with him."

"Your last name is Frostborne. So you are some one from a high house or part of the Alpha’s lineage." It wasn’t a question. "So why would a noblewoman be wearing a training suit made for a warrior and wandering someone else’s castle? Without escort, a lady-in-waiting or so much as a proper introduction. You do know how this looks, don’t you? People will assume you’re auditioning."

Auditioning. For what, Serena wanted to ask, but the answer was mistress if she had to guess, and she did not need to hear it twice.

She looked down at her training suit. She’d completely forgotten she was wearing it. Ironic considering she used to feel shy wearing them because they were so tight. And now she preferred them.

She gave a warm laugh. The woman wasn’t wrong about that part.

"I am visiting for the day, and came here last minute."

Which was the truth, but it sounded exactly like what someone who was lying would say.

The woman seemed genuinely taken aback by the laugh, disarming her for a second. A laugh was apparently not in her interrogation playbook. She recovered like it was a glitch.

Serena was about to excuse herself when she spoke again.

"Who invited you?"

"King Shadowclaw," Serena answered, deferring to his formal title.

"He invited you," she repeated.

"He did."

"Interesting he invited you. He just got back."

"If you know Garrett, I assume you’re also close with King Shadowclaw?"

"Intimately," she answered.

Serena kept calm, which seemed to irritate the woman more than anything she could have said.

"You have a very practiced composure for someone who isn’t here with an agenda," she observed."A courtesan composure. But you don’t look like the typical kind he goes for."

Serena’s stomach dropped. Actually, it left the building.

"I’ve seen every woman who’s tried to warm his bed since Katherine died. You don’t fit the pattern. Not the hair, not the height, not the confidence. Which means either you’re very confused or very lost, and I genuinely cannot tell which."

Her words still landed like a bucket of ice water. Was Fin the type to have courtesans? Was she that naive to assume otherwise? Hell she didn’t even know if Dexmon had entertained those before they met. It never even crossed her mind to ask.

And if Fin did, did she have any right to feel any way about it? No. She didn’t. She was mated to someone else. And confused as fuck.

The woman continued speaking, unbothered.

"So either you’re lying or something’s changed. His last mate was extraordinary, by the way. In case no one’s told you. She was tall. Striking. Black hair. You are the opposite of his type."

This woman’s hair was black and she was tall. If that was Fin’s type, this woman was a living blueprint of it, and Serena was the floor plan someone crumpled up and threw in the bin.

She looked at Serena the way one looks at a stray that followed someone home.

"I’m sure you’re very nice."

Serena had been dismissed by queens, threatened by princesses, and nearly killed by kings. Being called ’very nice’ by this woman somehow stung worse than all of it.

"If you’re trying to whore your way into a crown, try all you want. You wouldn’t be the first here." She waved her hand. "He can have any woman he wants and his bed is rarely empty. I’m sure you’ve figured that out."

Serena opened her mouth, genuinely taken aback by her words. Fin could have whoever he wanted. He was the most eligible bachelor in Skardos and Serena knew it. But it still stung.

At the moment, she’d prefer Agnes over this. At least Agnes had the decency to be loud about her cruelty. This woman delivered character assassinations with a teacup in hand.

"I’m just visiting," Serena said softly. "I think you are mistaken. I should get going."

She kept her voice warm and dipped respectfully. She walked away with grace because Serena Frostborne did not give women like that the satisfaction of seeing a single crack. She could fall apart around the corner like a civilized person.

"Wait," the woman’s voice rang out.

Serena stopped, turning.

"You mentioned Drakenfell. Do you know the Crown Prince?

"Yes," Serena answered.

"Mm. Since the Viremont princess latched herself onto Garrett, that does leave the Crown Prince of Drakenfell available. Doesn’t it?"

Heat flooded Serena’s face before she could stop it.

Gods, she missed Dex. She missed him the way you miss solid ground when someone shoves you off a cliff. And talking about him with this woman was not making her feel any better.

The woman tilted her head, studying her like a specimen that had done something unexpected in a jar.

"Oh. Oh, that’s interesting. You whored yourself to the Crown Prince of Drakenfell. He got bored of you and now you’re here. Trying to repeat it on Finnick."

She let out a short, cruel laugh.

"Does the Crown Prince know where you are right now? Or is this one of those arrangements where everyone pretends not to notice?"

Serena opened her mouth to respond. But then she had to close it to compose herself.

"I’m not feeling well, please excuse me."

The woman called after her.

She moved quickly, pretending not to hear. As soon as she was around the corner, she ran. Alpha speed down two corridors before slowing, pulse hammering, hands shaking.

She managed to run right into Aeron, who caught her both arms steadying her before she fell.

"Serena? Are you alright?"

"Oh, apologies Aeron," Serena said, her voice calm. "Actually you were who I was looking for. Would you be able to make a portal back to Drakenfell for me? I’ve never done one with my gold yet and I’m not feeling well."

"Yes," he answered after a moment. "Fin is in a meeting right now. Should I mindlink him?"

"No, that won’t be necessary," Serena answered a little too quickly. "He just got back. I don’t want to worry him."

His eyes flickered to her neck, and she didn’t need to be told twice because she already knew what was creeping up it.

"You have a rash, which is either stress or an allergic reaction to whoever just made you cry, and I’m betting on the latter."

"I’m not crying," Serena said. "Just not feeling well."

Aeron didn’t look convinced in the slightest.

"Okay Serena."

He made the portal and Serena went through without looking back.

✦✦✦

She moved through a hidden tunnel behind a tapestry, to Dex’s quarters.

After taking a long bath, she crawled into bed. She’d cried way too many damn times worrying over things she had no control over.

She’d dealt with mean girls before, and she understood that woman was likely trying to test the waters or protect her claim. It probably wasn’t personal. But she struck too many nerves in a row.

Walk into two throne rooms? Check.

Handle an unfriendly girl? Check.

Run away from Fin without saying goodbye because she was upset, but didn’t have a right to be? Check.

Does the Crown Prince know where you are right now?

She stared at the ceiling. The honest answer was worse than anything that woman could have said.