Betrayed By My Alpha Mate
The crowd quieted once again, as though the air itself held its breath.
He lifted a ceremonial blade, forged of moonsteel and so sharp it sang in the silence.
“Kara and Dylan,” the elder said, “extend your hands.”
Dylan gave me a gentle nod. I swallowed hard and held out my palm. The blade met my skin, slicing through it with a sharp, icy sting. I winced as warm blood spilled into the bowl.
Dylan’s blood followed, and then the elder pressed our palms together, fingers locking. Our mingled blood shimmered with a strange, silvery glow. The air around us thrummed as though the room had become a living thing, inhaling with us.