Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

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.

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

began to gain in elevation, the trail becoming

now,” I replied, looking up at the mountain that

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

* You still can,”

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

the top of a hill, looking over a field of large, uneven boulders. The trail disappeared into the field, reappearing on the other

Myla exclaimed, looking over at me

out over the rocks, creating

across. It was fun, a physical challenge, especially in the ankle length dress I was wearing.

we 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,

the hell – Myla said,

I said,

this is creepy. One of us is

laughed, wiping tears of mirth from our

stones towered over the women who were chatting amiably as though the eeriness of the

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

few things out,” Myla said,

touching one of the stones. A jolt of electricity ran through my fingertips, and I pulled them away, clenching my hand into a fist as my ears began to ring. Tasia was

of the

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

in the soft grass as we looked around, eventually looking at each

watching as Una walked into

as us,” she began, her voice cutting through the stillness, “but only isn’t a

group,

were a gift to her people. She was their leader. She cared for them with her strength. 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 the land. A gift by ancient, all knowing and unidentifiable gods, making her the

The group said in unison. Myla and I

she whispered, “me, or

“Probably both of us,”

bodies twirling in a practiced dance. The sun was nearly set, the sky beginning to glisten with stars as the first

and out of the spaces between the stones. I tried to swallow, but my mouth

greatest gift, a selfless gift. Eternal mates. Fated by

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