Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 65: This Is It

Troy

The landscape was totally changed from the lush greenery and long beaches we had been following for

roughly a month. The shallows of the pass gave way to deeper water, allowing us to travel at a quicker

speed, the engines working double-time as we sped forward into the unknown with the compass

pointing straight ahead

It was a week before Maeve’s birthday She had been moodier than usual as we neared it, knowing

what it meant.

She would finally come into her powers She would feel that I was her mate

Or she wouldn’t do either.

And as I watched her pacing across the deck of Persephone, her hair pulled up in a heavy. tangled

heap of a bun on top of her head, and I wondered if she even wanted to come into her powers. Not

knowing whether or not she was cursed had kept her stable distracted Now there was no way to ignore

the truth, whatever that may be

“This is it,” Keaton said, holding the compass out at arm’s length “It’s wanting us to go straight into that

cove, to the west.”

“I see it.” I watched the horizon as the strange, sand covered plateau grew larger as we neared We

hadn’t seen land in a week. Keaton tossed me the compass and left the upper deck, moving swiftly as

he walked towards the doors leading to the lower levels of the boat. He would be telling Pete to

continue west, no doubt. I felt my chest tighten as adrenaline prickled my fingertips

This was it. We’d have at least one moonstone. And that would be one less stone Damian would have

at his disposal.

“I feel strange.” Maeve said as she appeared at my side, her face drawn with anxiety.

“It’s going to be okay. We don’t know what we’re going to find, but we’re the only ship out here. Maybe

you should lie down for a while. Usually, she would fight me on this, but to my surprise she nodded,

walking gingerly down the stairs with one arm cradling her swelling belly. I was shocked at how quickly

her pregnancy was progressing. Her usually graceful movements had become strained and uneven.

She was uncomfortable.

“We’re going to make this quick,” I said to myself under my breath, wanting nothing more than to turn

this ship around to get her back to her parents. We only had a few months to make the journey to

Winter Forest by ship before the ice began to form on the northern seas. We couldn’t miss that window.

A few days later, we made camp on the beach, the Persephone bobbing just off the shore. The water

was deep here, the beach giving way to a steep drop-off instead of reefs.

There was nothing green as far as we could see. Everything was covered in coarse golden sand

a desert, we realized, as a group of us men shifted and spent an hour running a wide berth around the

camp, climbing to the top of the plateau to gaze out over the ocean behind us, and the rolling sand

dunes on the other side of the plateau. No buildings. No trees. None of us picked up the scent of other

people or wolves. We were alone.

Back at camp, we regrouped. Maeve and Myla wanted to take the compass and find the tomb as soon

as possible, but Keaton dismissed the notion. We had been aboard the Persephone for a month

straight, and we were wobbly on our feet when we stepped out of the skiffs on the shore. We all

needed rest. Those who could shift needed to run.

And most of all, we needed to scope out the area before we attempted entry into the tomb.

A full day passed before I finally decided to follow the compass once more. I turned it over and over in

my hands while Maeve slept next to me under our tent, debating my next move. I worried, constantly,

about everything these days, but especially about what would happen when we found the stone. I

opened the compass and watched the dial. There was nothing else continue to follow it into the

unknown.

Maeve

I was walking behind Pete as Troy beat through the thick, tangled brush ahead of us along what was

once a pathway lined with what looked like cement pavers of some sort but were so old they crumbled

into dust beneath our feet.

The strange sand dunes had given way to brush, then oddly shaped gnarled bushes that took us down

into a deep, ashen valley. We saw stone buildings in the distance where the valley began to green, the

rough sand and stone giving way to moss and other low-lying foliage.

Then we found a trail, and a road, an ancient one, a road that eventually led the three of us into the

remains of a village.

What is this place?” I wheezed, my hands on my knees as I bent over to catch my breath.

It had been a month since the strange storm had rocked the Persephone and then abruptly dissipated

over our heads. I was roughly four months pregnant now and feeling it. I was out of breath all the time

as the little pups nestled in my belly squirmed and boxed with each other.

Troy had told me to stay behind when he decided to leave our beach camp and follow the compass

west on foot. I refused, knowing that he would need me if he came upon the temple. The crew of the

Persephone was exhausted, and we were running low on supplies. We needed to find the moonstones

and head back to civilization as quickly as we could.

“I don’t know. Whatever this is, well, it wasn’t on the map,” Troy replied, stooping down to run his

fingertips over one of the pavers. “It’s an archaeological site “Pete said suddenly, and we both turned to

him.

“How do you know?” Troy stood, brushing the dirt from his knees.

“Look around. See those tools? And there– Pete pointed in the distance where the little village

seemed to abruptly end, dropping off into a deep, darkened hole.

I glanced at Troy, the downy hair rising on my arms as I caught his eye. A dig site?

“What if someone already found the stone-‘I began, but Troy turned away from me, stalking down the

pathway until he reached the edge of the hole, looking down into its depths.

“Goddess,” he said, his voice catching.

Pete and I hurried to his side, looking down in shock as we tried to make sense of what we were

seeing.

Another village, long buried, had been dug out of the sides of the hole that we gazed into. The ground

sloped down at an easy decline and was littered with various excavation equipment. The site itself

looked to be a city center of some kind, a square, with ornate columns lining the square and richly

decorated tile covering the ground.

Troy took the compass out of his pocket and stretched out his arm, holding it over the site and flipping it

open with his thumb. Pete and I leaned into him, watching the dial spin in a tight circle.

“This is it,” Troy said softly, closing the compass and turning to me. “Are you ready?”

“Sure,” I breathed, trying to steady my conflicting emotions as I began to follow Troy down into the dig

site, my chest tightening with apprehension.

“Holy shit,” Pete said behind me as we entered the square, looking around in awe. Several tunnels

had been dug between the columns with rafters holding sections from caving in. Most of the + tunnels

were caved in, however, and we only had one option when it came to moving deeper into

the dig site.

Pete walked ahead of us, peering into the tunnel’s pitch-black depths.