Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

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.

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

began to gain in elevation,

looking up at the mountain that

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

* You still can,”

down, taking off the platform sandals she was wearing. Just not in these shoes!” We continued up the trail, Myla carrying the sandals

of large, uneven boulders. The trail disappeared into the

You’ve got to be kidding me!” Myla

over the rocks, creating a course of

This will be quick!” I jumped down onto the first boulder, 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

back on the trail, the sun setting behind us. We crested another hill and finally looked

hell – Myla said, pausing at

Troy was right,” I said,

is creepy. One of us

laughed, wiping tears of mirth from our

over the women who were chatting amiably as though

said excitedly, hugging us both in greeting, “I was worried

definitely left a few things out,” Myla said,

one of the stones. A jolt of electricity ran through my fingertips, and I pulled them away, clenching my hand into a fist as

alone on the other side of the circle, her eyes fixating on my own

asked, turning back to Tasia, but she was gone, moving through the groups as she leaned in to speak to the other women. Everyone started to move

fell in line, shuffling our feet in the soft grass as we looked around, eventually looking at

walked into the

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

through the group, the women nodding in

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 steward of their creation.

group said in unison. Myla

she

“Probably both of us,”

cut off by a sudden movement within the 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 moon crested over

the silence, weaving in and out of the spaces between the stones. I tried

blessed her people with the greatest gift, a selfless gift. Eternal mates.