Lady Tan's Circle Of Women Summary Novels & Stories

I let it sit there, letting curiosity build, letting anticipation do its work. “There’s a circle,” I said finally, my voice lowering just enough to make it feel exclusive. “A private one. Very selective.” Her eyes dropped to the folder, then back to me. “Go on.” “A group of women,” I continued, “wives of the most powerful men in the world. But not just wives, women who control their households, their wealth, their influence. Women who aren’t just seen… but respected.” I saw it the moment it hit her. That spark.

At Crystabel's home, herself and Anita were now in Anita's room as Anita was still trying her best to persuade Crystabel to come with her at Lady-T's party which was always known as the wet cunt party. It was Lady-T's birthday and she doesn't fail to celebrate it every year. Inviting different kinds of ladies. Those with little ass and little boobs, big boobs and big ass and those with little ass and big boobs. So many ladies were always present at her party and no man would want to leave the party so early without having a taste of those pussys.

I took a slow bite, the rich juice spreading across my tongue as I watched the women seated around the table. Wives and daughters. Women who held influence not because of their own power but because of the men standing behind them. Ten women. The only ten women qualified to sit at Mary's table. The same ten women who had called Mary their friend. The same ten women who had laughed, mocked, and bullied Eleanor. My gaze drifted toward Mary.

A dangerous secret ran through generations … a hidden group they called the Circle. They believed they could play God, deciding who lived, who died, who disappeared. Their ravenous need for wealth and absolute control wasn’t greed. It was a ritual. Wives were chosen for their bloodlines or assets, then slowly broken, isolated, and erased when they became threats. Babies were taken. Fortunes were absorbed. Accidents were staged. The family had been doing it for decades, maybe longer. Elena’s stomach twisted. She had been so close to proving it.

It was a shame she had not met her mate as of yet. I had a feeling Alpha Bret and Beta Cyrus had something to do with her doing so well. They were like brothers to Zane, and when Lamia decided to move on to MacTire she made Bret the Alpha of Golden Circle. It was only a year ago that she released Golden Circle from her control and put the pack back under the protection of the New Moon Kingdom. “Beta Mike,” A sickly voice purred in my ear and I cringed as I looked down at Jody. She was the cousin to the Golden Circle Beta and a pack whore. I had heard the stories and first-hand encounters with the Alpha and Beta.

"Sure, I'll help." Both women walked to opposite sides of the salt circle and sat on the ground in a cross-legged style, hands palms up on their knees. "Ready?" Tansy asked. Kayla just nodded and then closed her eyes. Taking one last look around, Tansy closed her eyes and then began chanting, pouring her magic, as weak as it was right then, into the circle, pulling from the renewed life of the surrounding vegetation to aid her in her magic. From the other side of the circle, she could hear Kayla repeating the same chant, over and over, her voice gaining strength with each repetition. As soon as Tansy felt the barrier solidify, she opened her eyes, staring at the salt ring. They were set. Now

"What does that mean?" The woman laughed softly. "It means your father still believes people cannot change." Nick stepped closer to Ariana. He had not let go of her hand. Not for a single second. The woman noticed. "So this is Nick." Nick met her eyes. "Yes." "I've heard a great deal about you." "I wish I could say the same." Her smile widened. "You've caused us many problems." Nick frowned. "Us?" She nodded. "The Circle." Ariana felt as though someone had struck her. She looked from the woman to the leader standing beside her. Then back again. "No."

Now they had a story to attach to that feeling, and they were holding on to it with both hands. It was a Tuesday when Lady Selene addressed the pack women’s circle. I wasn’t invited — omegas weren’t — but the meeting room shared a wall with the linen storage where I’d been sent to inventory supplies, and the wall was thin, and I have always had very good hearing.

Lord Syford started after he dismissed the other ladies who was surrounding him. “Don’t be silly, my lord. You owe me nothing at all. From all I know about London society, ‘t was at the proper discretion of the guests to present themselves before the soiree host, right after arrival. Or was your long stay here in a rather indifferent earldom rusted your idea of what truly London parties are supposed to be,” the Feledencian woman sarcastically pointed out with no regard of getting a bad impression from the man. The earlier sentiments about woman had made her extra agitated than before.

“Take your designated places. The registration period has ended.” Movement spread through the ballroom. The women were directed toward the center of the floor, where a large silver circle had been inlaid into the marble. Until that moment, I had assumed it was simply decoration. Up close, I saw the words carved around its edge. Ancient promises. Warnings. Names of Moon Goddesses and forgotten wolves. The hunters gathered outside the circle. Seventeen men. Some looked young and hungry for the prestige of a successful capture. Others stood with the calm confidence of wolves accustomed to taking what they wanted.