AllFreeNovel
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I sit still, watching her every move. The High Priestess begins her rounds, the chalice in her grasp a vessel of temptation. She pauses before each initiate, an offering of communion—and damnation. I know that what’s in that cup is eros, that it’s driven alphas so crazy that they’ve killed each other, killed innocent women.
When she stands before me, her eyes glitter with a challenge that sets my skin on edge.
“Drink,” she commands, voice velvety soft with a hint of poison.
And I don’t hesitate.
When you’re infiltrating a cult, you don’t fucking hesitate to do as they say.
I tilt the cup to my lips, the liquid cool and sweet, a deceptive prelude to the fire it lights inside me. I can feel it instantly, recognize what Oberon has described and what Rook said it would feel like. Eros. There’s eros in this cup, and I’m about to go into a fucking rut.
“Whoa,” I mutter as warmth floods my veins, the world tilting into a haze of desire.
“What the…what is this,” Isaiah slurs, though his voice sounds distant, like he’s fighting his own battle against the tide.
I scent them before I see them, newcomers to this ritual making me want to go crazy. That scent is so sweet, fucking delectable: omegas. The smell of them hooks me and doesn’t let me go, dragging my eyes upward to where they’re filing through the crowd wearing sheer white dresses, their bodies on full display.
The men behind me are holding me, arms behind my back.
It takes two alphas to keep me from them.
They emerge, omegas veiled in thin shrouds—walking temptations sent to test the mettle of men already teetering on the brink. The air shifts, charged with pheromones and hunger. My heart pounds a primal rhythm; I’m an alpha reduced to instinct, and restraint is slipping fast.
“Fuck,” Isaiah curses, a futile plea drowned out by blood roaring in my ears. “Wasn’t…supposed to be like this.”
Everything starts to unravel as the ritual starts in earnest.
I rise, the pull irresistible. Men around me are losing their shit, their eyes glazed as they fixate on the omegas. But there’s one scent, potent and familiar, that slices through the fog in my brain.
A familiar scent—the scent of one of my closest friends. A scent left by a mating bite on the very woman I’ve come to rescue.
Aisling.
My feet move of their own accord, drawn to her like she has a unique gravitational pull. There she is, defiance etched into her posture even as she’s paraded before us. Our eyes lock, two beings caught in a maelstrom of chaos, yet for a heartbeat, everything else falls away.
She’s on a pedestal, just before the statue, flowers blooming in the air around her as I lose all sense of reality.
Put on display.
The May Queen, resplendent in white mist and red flowers.
“Aisling,” I growl, low and warning, my voice barely human. The recognition flickers in her eyes, a spark before the storm.
“Be careful,” she whispers, a word of caution before the inevitable.
I snarl, response torn between man and beast, the animal within clawing its way to the surface. She steps back, watching the struggle play out across my features. As the frenzy builds around us, it’s her gaze that anchors me—a lifeline thrown into the eye of the hurricane.
“Claim them, initiates!” the High Priestess screams, her voice orgasmic. “Claim them and breed them!”
The courtyard erupts in a symphony of carnal noises, bodies clashing and moans mingling with the thick, humid air. I feel hands on my chest—forceful, insistent—and then I’m falling backward as Aisling shoves me to the ground.
“Stay down,” she commands, her voice a blade cutting through the haze in my brain. Heat engulfs me as she straddles me, her slick warmth sliding over my throbbing cock, a tease that has me biting back a curse.
“Fuck,” I rasp out, hips bucking up instinctively, seeking more than friction.
“Shut it.” Aisling’s tone brooks no argument, even as chaos unfurls around us. She leans closer, lips brushing against the shell of my ear, and I can feel every word she breathes out, each one laced with authority. “Just slide, Luka. Keep out, just…feel.”
Her fingers grip my jaw, tilting my face to hers. The wild look in her eyes is almost enough to make me forget where we are, who we are—but not quite.
