CHAPTER 21 PART 2 | munchies

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📎A/N. Whoot Whoot! Both Masked and Buried have made it to the next round of the Wattpad Fiction Awards! Masked, in the category of Best Werewolf and Buried in Best Paranormal.

Voting is now open and are given by going inline next to thestory you want to vote for and writing +1. How simple is that?

You can vote for a single story as many times as you want.  Go check it out and cast your vote for your favorites for each category. https://www.wattpad.com/295504121-the-fiction-awards-2016-voting-open

Thank you so very much for those of you who nominated my stories in the first place :)

Enough of me.. now on to the story. Don't forget to vote.

Take care and thanks for your continued support.

❤ ℳ

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Keira couldn't believe what they had stumbled upon.

Around the circumference of the ancient site, facing out into the woods as if providing a human shield, was at least fifty people. They stood like sentries, an arm's length apart from the next man.

Small fires had been lit and provided a dull but eerie glow to the area. A small group was gathered near the altar stone. Keira adjusted her position to get a better view. She drew in a sharp breath when she realized a body was strapped to the stone.

Hovering above him was a mountain of a man who could have given Arnold Schwarzenegger a run for his money. His shoulders had shoulders.

"That much muscle in one person is just not natural," whispered Dayna.

Next to Arnie, in direct contrast, was an older, small, wiry man with thinning hair. The long dark robe he wore reminded her of the Monks during the Spanish Inquisition. He clutched onto something around his neck. Her guess, a satanic cross—the cross associated with Leviathan. The older man had to be a Brother Superior within The Order.

They watched Arnie pull out a knife and hold it up to the night sky. Dayna's hand whipped up to her mouth, and she held back a whimper as she stood up. "He's going to kill him," she said in a muffled voice. "We need to do something."

Keira was about to tell her sister to get down when Deacon pulled Dayna to the ground. "It benefits no one if we rush in without a plan."

They watched in horror as the knife was plunged downwards. She closed her eyes at the last moment. There was no way she wanted to witness the taking of a life. When she opened them again, the sacrifice was in a sitting position.

"What the—?"

He had been cut free. The sacrificial lamb was now standing toe to toe with Arnie. He rested his hand on the other man's shoulder; the action was mimicked by the other.

"It's a sign of respect and greeting," whispered Deacon.

Keira felt Ryker stiffen and she turned her head. His features were set in stone, and she could literally feel the rage wash over him in waves. She glanced in the direction he was focused and understood why. How she'd missed it was beyond her. Towards the outer rim of the large circle of sentries was at least two dozen men. They were on their knees, bound and gagged with their hands behind their backs. Ensuring they did not escape, was a small contingent of armed guards. It wasn't the prisoners, nor the guards that caught his attention. A familiar face had set both their teeth on edge.

Former deputy Alan Trudeau, along with another man, pulled one of the prisoners up off the ground and dragged him across towards the altar stone.

She reached out and touched Ryker's arm. "Promise me one thing," she said, "when you kill him, make it as painful as possible."

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