Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

It smelled like him and gave me comfort as I maneuvered over the rocks to what felt like an uncertain

fate.

Shelly was watching me closely as I entered the cemetery through the rusted gate, closing it behind

me.

Her arms were full of roses, and a hint of smile was evident on the corner of her mouth as she watched

me, her gray eyes focused on mine.

She nodded, once, then turned away as she continued to converse with kacidra, who was alight with

anticipation

Rosalie had gone inside the temple, the door left ajar.

I could smell the matches she used to light the candles at the altar the second I stepped into the

sanctuary.

I felt an odd rush of air touch my skin despite the stillness in the room.

The candles didn't even flicker.

The downy hairs on my arms and neck rose as I watched Rosalie move around the altar, striking match

after match.

She looked so young in the soft multi-colored sunlight drifting down from the stained-glass windows,

the reflection rippling over her hair and cheek as she turned to light a single candle that had been

placed in the hand of the statue of the Moon Goddess.

1 swallowed against the lump in my throat as I gazed up at the faceless statue of the woman.

She was etched out of pure granite, crafted as though the temple had been built around her.

One hand held the candle, while the other hand was outstretched, fingers splayed and palm facing the

ceiling The fingers of that hand were darkened from centuries of being touched by parishioners who

knelt before the statue, reaching their arms up to touch her fingertips as they prayed, much like Rosalie

was doing now.

I hadn't ever prayed to the Moon Goddess.

But I sought her.

I always sought her in my dreams.

I thought, if I could only catch a glimpse of her, maybe I would know her reasons for giving me the

burden I carried

But now that I was standing before her likeness, I felt hollow.

Unsure.

And scared "I don't think we should do this, Rosalie.

My voice was trembling as Rosalie turned around, her eyes fixed on mine.

"I won't force you to, Hanna.

I promised you that."

"I don't think 1-1 can.

What if something goes wrong? What if-" "We're in the sanctuary now.

This is her place, her domain.

That's why I chose it.

You said you dreamt of a white temple and now we stand inside of it." Rosalie had laid out several

white roses on the altar that was situated between the stone benches and the statue, her fingers

lingering on the petals as she watched me with a careful eye, "I don't know why you want to do it," I

confessed, my voice straining with a silent plea.

She wouldn't force me, that was true.

But I couldn't deny her desires to see Maeve alive and well for herself.

She was such a stoic woman, but a silent one.

She carried herself with dignity and grace.

She would never let us see her falter or give in to her fears, her deepest emotions.

I wondered if she let Ethan see that side of her, but an overwhelming part of me told me that whatever

she was feeling regarding Maeve, she had kept to herself.

And now Ethan was gone to Mirage, and she had no witness to protest her actions.

U

"I need to see it.

I need to see what you see.

I need to...to understand how this works.

What this means.

Not just for us, Hanna.

But for Maeve, and Rowan." "1-1 know-" "You and I are different, Hanna.

The pack Lycenna needs you for something I have to understand.

They want...you and Rowan, and I think I know why.

But I need to know for sure so we can stop them."

"You're right," I breathed, surrendering.

I felt a pitch of guilt at the fact I had given up at the mention of Rowan instead of leaning against my

deeply rooted anxieties about attempting to take Rosalie, the White Queen herself, into a realm outside

of my control.

"We have to try," she continued.

I nodded tightly.

Kacidra and Shelly had come in, murmuring in low voices.

I could smell the roses they carried in their arms.

"So, how are we doing this?" Kacidra asked bluntly, leaning against the far wall.

Rosalie looked at her, then me, her expression softening as she smiled and shrugged.

"I think I'M just hold her hand, see if she can take me wherever she goes."

"That sounds too easy," Kacidra retorted.

Rosalie gave her a motherly look of warning, then turned her attention back to me.

"I asked her for guidance." Rosalie motioned towards the statue nonchalantly, her eyes still focused on

mine.

"I think we just need to touch.

I should be able to feel...

when you go, if that makes sense I know your method of focus 1-1 think you're right.

We can try" Trying is all we can do," she smiled, but I could sense her unease.

When we first talked about the idea of her being able to Dream Dance with me, I was skeptical.

It sounded impossible, in fact.

But she was a White Queen If anyone could do this, it was us.

I took a deep breath, looking over my shoulder at kacidra and Shelly.

Shelly looked nervous but intrigued.

Kacidra looked oddly excited and was exudating pride.

I'd never seen her look at me like that, and the silent encouragement began to course through my veins

like adrenaline.

I stepped toward Rosalie, my eyes flitting up to the faceless statue.

I had practiced, and practiced, and practiced until I got it right.

I was confident in my abilities to will myself in and out of dreams now.

I could always find the door.

But I worried about Rosalie.

She took my hands in hers, the two of us stood between the statue and the altar.

I said a silent prayer, not for us, but for Rowan

Keep him safe.

And if anything happens to me...

Let him find his mate again.

Kacidra Shelly shifted nervously on her perch on one of the benches, clutching the roses she had picked to her

chest.

I watched her pick the thorns off the stems with interest, eventually catching her eye.

"What's the matter?"

"N-Nothing. I just...I'm sure you heard about Lycenna. And Hanna is...” "Are you a Dream Dancer too?” I asked.

"No, I'm not. My great aunt was but... not nearly as strong as Hanna. Can you,” “No, I can't.” I breathed, my mouth

tasting bitter, I mustered up the courage to talk about my mother for the first time in many years.

Shelly listened with empathy, her eyes misting with tears a few times as I laid out my truth.

I had longed for my mother's affection.

There had been a time when she doted on me.

But that was when she thought I would grow into my powers.

I never had, and the second Hanna had shown potential i was cast to the side.

Shelly took my hand, squeezing.

We sat in silence for a moment, lost in separate but oddly connected contemplation.

We looked over at Rosalie and Hanna, who were standing, holding each other's hands across the altar.

Neither had spoken or even moved in an hour.

But suddenly I saw Hanna grimace, then twitch, her body going rigid.

Rosalie's hands fell from her grasp as I stood.

“Something's wrong, somethings-" Rosalie sucked in her breath, opening her eyes.

"Rosalie!" I cried, jumping forward to catch her as she stumbled backward.

A gust of wind that had no business being in the temple seemed to rush over us, bursting through the doors.

Shelly had risen, the roses she had placed in her lap falling to the floor.

She looked around, her eyes focused on the rush of leaves swirling around our feet.

"Get her out of here!" Shelly screamed, darting forward and grabbing Rosalie by the arm.

But another rush of wind knocked them both backward, tossing them against the far wall with enough force to

shatter the stain-glass windows and send a shower of glass down over our heads.

I lunged towards Hanna, who was struggling, her eyes closed and mouth opening and closing as she struggled

inside her dream.

"Hanna? HANNA!" She screamed, pushing against me as I embraced her, willing her to take me into the dream to

fight whatever demon was on the other side.

But then I felt her tense up, her fingers gripping my jacket and yanking on the fabric.

I struggled to get free of her touch, her grip intense and painful.

"Hanna! Stop! You're hurting me!" She pushed me so hard that I hit the floor, my head cracking against the marble

tiles.

I smelled blood, my own, and whimpered as I reached back to touch the wound on the back of my skull.

Rosalie was darting forward, slipping on the white roses that had fallen off the altar, their petals dappled with my

blood.

"Rosalie, don't!" I managed to scream as Shelly's arms came around me, pulling me across the marble.

I watched in horror as Hanna shifted.

Rosalie stopped short of Hanna's wolf, swaying as she reached up to put a hand to her temple.

She reached out and touched Hanna, who was snarling and sniffling, totally out of control.

The room suddenly felt devoid of air.

The petals rustled as they lifted from the tiles.

I sucked in my breath, finding it impossible to breathe.

Shelly let out a scream as a burst of air shattered the remaining windows and sent a cascade of glass over the top

of our heads.

I heard yelping, then Rosalie's voice raised in a plea of mercy.

Then a flash of bright light blinded me as I blinked frantically to clear my vision.

It was quiet now.

No wind.

No noise.

I sat up, Shelly steadying me as we looked in horror at the scene in front of us.

Rosalie had wrapped herself protectively around Hanna, who was now back in her basic form, her long black hair

splayed out over her naked body.

Rosalie was still, her cheek against the side of Hanna's face.

Rosalie's eyes were wide open.

Unseeing.

She was dead.