Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 270

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, the trail

found it by now,” I replied, looking up at the mountain that seemed

this, I would have just shifted and

* You still can,”

wearing. Just not in these shoes!” We continued up the trail, Myla carrying the

crested the top of a hill, looking over a field of large, uneven boulders. The

Myla exclaimed, looking over

the rocks, creating a

hopping my way across. It was fun, a physical challenge, especially in the ankle length dress I was wearing. Myla followed, a few boulders behind me, cursing audibly as

setting behind us. We crested another hill and finally looked down at the small congregation of women, arranged in small groups near the center of a circle of standing

hell – Myla said, pausing

I said, arching my

of us is

wiping tears of mirth from our eyes as we approached the

stones towered over the women who were chatting amiably as though the eeriness of the place had no effect on

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

few things

of electricity ran through my fingertips, and I pulled them away, clenching my hand into a fist as my ears began to ring.

the circle, her eyes fixating on my own as I met

she was gone, moving through the groups as she leaned in to speak to the other women. Everyone started to move around, forming

in line, shuffling our feet in the soft

as Una walked into the circle and turned around to face

she began, her voice cutting through the stillness, “but only

the group,

Her hands tended to the land they called their home. Her voice 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

Myla

she whispered,

“Probably both of us,”

practiced dance. The sun was nearly set, the sky beginning to glisten with stars as the first sign

in and out of the

with the greatest gift, a selfless gift.

this, Maeve,” Myla

of moving, my eyes fixated on the dancers. My heart seemed to beat

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