Chapter 50: In the Center of the Stones

Maeve

The next day passed in a blur of activity. The city was buzzing, practically electric as Myla and I moved through the market square, the note from Una inviting us to a private, women only ceremony to invoke the full moon was scrunched in my fist as we pushed through the crowd.

“Did you feel, I don’t know, strange? Last night?” I asked Myla as we walked towards the river.

“Um, no. I guess not. I was missing Keaton, though. Why?”

*-It’s nothing,” i murmured, biting the inside of my lip.

“Well, do you feel strange, Maeve?” Myla asked.

“Yeah, actually. There’s something about this place that feels off to me. It doesn’t feel real? If that makes sense.”

Myla nodded soberly, lowering her gaze as we crossed over the narrow bridge, “I do understand that feeling. This place is too good to be true, I think. I don’t want to leave.”

“Neither do 1,” I breathed, admitting the fact lifting some tension from my shoulders.

Troy and I had left the lake before the rest of the group, barely making it back to the apartment without tearing off each other’s clothes. Once inside, he had pushed me up against the door, pulling the dress over my head and holding me there at arm’s length, looking at me as though for the first time.

The sex had been desperate, passionate, so unlike the awkward fumbling lesson in the art of passion like it had been on the ship. He had pushed me to the edge several times, leaving me begging, practically pleading with him as he covered my body with his lips.

I would have done anything he asked. I would have said anything he wanted. I had surrendered to him wholly for the first time, and I knew nothing would be the same after that.

And as I laid back on the bed, listening to his rhythmic breathing as he slept, I counted the dancing white wolves on the ceiling. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one…

“What do you think this ceremony is going to be like?” Myla asked, bringing me back down to reality.

“Troy said they’re probably going to sacrifice one of us.” *

Myla sputtered with laughter shaking her head, “Goddess, Maeve. I hope it’s you. My hair hasn’t looked this good in years! What a waste that would be.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Myla’s teasing, somewhat abrasive, sense of humor was a compliment to my own. She was not a serious person. I wondered how she got on with Keaton, who seemed to be fixed, and dependent, on his serious, dry nature.

We walked along the lake in the opposite direction of where we had dined the night before. The sun was close to setting, the sky a soft, navy blue as we continued along a well-beaten trail.

we began to gain in elevation,

replied, looking up at the mountain that seemed close enough

we would be doing this, I would have just shifted and had you carry my

* You still can,”

my feet. Just – She reached down, taking off the platform sandals she was wearing. Just not in these shoes!” We continued up the trail, Myla carrying the sandals by their straps as we

hill, looking over a field of large,

Myla exclaimed, looking over at

looking out over the rocks, creating a

was fun, a physical challenge, especially in the ankle length dress I was wearing. Myla followed, a few boulders behind me, cursing audibly

were across and back on the trail, the sun setting behind us. We crested another hill and finally looked down at the small congregation of women, arranged in small groups near the center

– Myla

right,” I said,

creepy. One of us is definitely getting

each other and laughed, wiping tears of mirth from our

chatting amiably as though

hugging us both in greeting, “I was worried Mom was too vague

uh, definitely left a few things

electricity ran through my fingertips, and I pulled them away, clenching my hand into a fist as my ears began to ring. Tasia was watching me, her mouth

the circle, her

she leaned in to speak to the other women. Everyone started to

the

shook my head, watching as Una walked into the circle and turned around to face the group, her body

she was only a woman, the same as us,” she began, her voice cutting through the stillness, “but only isn’t a good word

group, the women

comforted the sick, the dying, the mothers in childbirth as they brought forth life into the world. And so, she was blessed, given special powers by the earth beneath her feet and the wind that blew across the land. A gift by ancient, all knowing and unidentifiable gods, making her the steward

unison. Myla and I looked

sacrificed,” she

“Probably both of us,”

group, several women stepping forward, their bodies twirling in a practiced dance. The sun was nearly set, the sky beginning to glisten with stars as the first sign of the

in the silence, weaving in and out of the spaces between the

with the greatest gift, a selfless

don’t like this, Maeve,” Myla

my eyes fixated on the dancers. My heart seemed to beat in rhythm

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