Providence

Sacrifice

To say that Liam was upset was one thing. But watching Malachi die a hundred different and terrible ways in Liam's mind was something else. She knew each curve of the male's organs in detail now, and the pitch of his dying screams exactly. And it made her feel a little better about being assaulted.

If it kept him from murdering everyone gathering around them in the mine, Seren would let him mull it over until he had finessed it like a shiny stone from a rock tumbler. Every so often he would rumble angrily if another male glanced at her, and rubbed his cheek against hers or stroked her arm or side to remind himself that she was still his.

Currently, he was using the throne to split Malachi in half, a wolf on each side tugging fiercely down on his ankles, ripping the alpha right up the crotch. How creative.

More sconces had been lit for the occasion than there had been during the tour, the great, curved walls echoed with the din of voices gossiping, speculating, and imagining the event to come. The Full Moon Ritual of the old ways was a time to worship the moon, praying to the goddess for strength, fertility, or health.

Liam had warned her that this pack still practiced in the old manner, bringing offerings and even sacrifices for Her to accept. She had been told not to interfere no matter what she saw. Couldn't be any more gruesome than what was happening in her mate's head at that second. Spoiler alert. Malachi falling to the pits of the cavern and splatting on the bottom.

She winced.

However, since Liam was visiting and an agreement had been made (if the Stone Carver alpha had any sense in him), this would also be a celebration. Per the unspoken laws, each alpha would bestow a gift to the other before the Ritual began, but it was what Malachi might ask for in exchange for unity that worried Liam. Anything concerning Seren was precedent, as she was the chink in his armor.

And there he went again, killing Malachi with a...sconce?

She took his hand in hers and sent a concerned look to Derrick who just rolled his eyes, more than used to the mental carnage.

"Make way for the Alpha!" Richmond's deep Viking voice commanded, sending lesser wolves scurrying to the sides to create an aisle for them to pass.

Heads topped in shades of almost entirely blonde or white bowed as he walked by them, turning their chins to expose their neck in submission. Seren thought she might vomit. Liam thought he might drown Malachi in it if she did.

The asshole had the gall to wink at Seren as he came to stand beside on of the wooden tables laden with offerings. Her grip on Liam's forearm tightened considerably as he strained to murder the offender where he stood. She had to coax him back with thoughts of their intimate moments the previous night, of her marking him, and letting him feel that she may repeat the action again. If he was good.

He seemed to rock back onto his heels, a lazy smirk taking over. Malachi didn't seem quite as smug then. Ignoring them, he turned to look out over his pack that fit entirely on the ledge, where it appeared that they had once flowed outward onto the smaller worn outcroppings and pathways to see him.

"Stone Carvers! Tonight we celebrate the Full Moon Ritual beneath Her gaze. May She find us worthy of Her attention and may She honor us by hearing our pleas," he paused to hear the thrum of agreement from a hundred voices. "Tonight, also, we honor the alpha from the south, Alpha Liam of the Wind Runners who will join us with his mate in the Ritual."

Malachi's four females, Aliana, Joslyn, Orana, and Camelia lined up to the right of his throne, carrying each a basket of tokens for the Moon's altar. Flowers, bread, meat, herbs...all these things would be offered to Her, the spirit of each item going to Her realm to nourish Her. After She passed through the window, what was left would be used by the pack. The children that followed behind their mothers, similarly draped in sapphire-colored cloth with their white or silver hair flowing freely, carried a pitcher of fresh water if they could. The small toddler, Greggor, held an unlit candle in each hand, appearing to take his job very seriously. Behind that procession, came a few servants carrying covered silver dishes, dumping the sloshing contents into a larger pot- meat perhaps?