Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder novel Chapter 323

Chapter 103: Betrayal

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The rectory rose above the University of Mirage, perched atop a hill adjacent to the magnificent Temple of the Moon Goddess, which signified the place as not only a religious sanctuary, but the true capital of both Valoria and the Church.

Mom was keeping in step with me as we followed Troy up the paved pathway leading up the hill. She sighed deeply, picking at a loose thread on her blue chunky-knit sweater.

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She was upset about something. I believed wholehearted ly it had to do with the fact we were all sitting ducks while Ta sia hid somewhere nearby, waiting to strike.

“Did you know the White Queens split with the Church of the Moon Goddess?” I asked as we continued what felt like a

slow, endless climb towards the rectory.

“Yes, I did. That ended with my reign, however. We estab lished new ties with the Church shortly after you were born.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mom laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, sweetheart, I did. It was taught in school. You just never listened.”

I frowned, tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear. “I did listen-”

“Not often enough,” she teased, giving me a knowing

smile.

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I had a feeling karma for being a total pain in my parents’ ass was going to catch up to me as the years went by. I could already see the gleam of mischief in the eyes of Oli and Will. Charlie was our angel, at least for now.

“Troy, why didn’t Dad want to come with us today?” I asked as we neared the rectory.

Troy turned to us, meaning to part with us and go to the rectory himself while we met with the High Priestess of the Church.

“He and Rowan are putting a force together to find Hay den and Carl. I’m meeting up with them later and then—” he paused, looking from me to Mom. “I’m going to be going with your dad to locate them-and Ta’sia.”

“What?” I roared, which startled several people minding their own business as they sat on the benches along the path

way.

“We can talk about it later, Maeve,” he said with force, and

in front of Mom, too.

I felt heat prickle across my cheeks, running my tongue along my lower lip as I thought of a retort, but Mom took my hand and began to lead me away toward the temple.

“We’re already late, honey-”

“You’ re not going AN,chapter_version=chapter_version +1 WHERE until we have a chance to talk about this, Troy!” I said over my shoulder, giving him my best “mom look” that I had been practicing in the mirror the past few days.

Troy was oblivious to it and seemed heavily distracted. He

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had barely said a word to me about the stranger who had come to the gala. He had barely explained what he had found in the journal last night, too. Both he and Dad were being ex ceedingly secretive.

He turned toward the rectory without saying a word, and I turned my head back to the temple, vexed beyond a responsi ble doubt.

“I’m willing to assume the Priestess will need to speak to me more than she needs to speak with you, honey. You can join him after we show both of our faces, at least.”

“Hopefully, there’s a darkened corner where I can ring his

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“You’re being too hard on him.”

neck-”

“Am I? You may be okay with Dad being distant and se cretive, but I’m not okay with Troy being that way.”

I didn’t mean the words to be as harsh as they sounded. I could tell they had hurt her. She didn’t reply, the silence loud er than her words would have been.

“I’m sorry, Mama.”

“It’s alright. I understand why you’re upset.”

“How do you do it? Be married to a man who-who does things, alone? Without-”

“Without telling me all of his schemes? It’s a lifelong prac tice, honey. But I trust your father. Just like I hope you will trust Troy’s judgment here. We may be White Queens, but they are men. And we have to let them be like that some

times.”

I considered her response as we walked up the steps to the temple and entered the sanctuary.

The High Priestess’s name was Grace, which I found rather ironic. She walked with grace, and talked with grace, but her words were often harsh and sharpened to such an edge I felt as though they could cut me.

Her disdain for Mom and me was obvious. Maybe those ties Mom was talking about hadn’t been met with as much support as I had originally thought.

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Grace was taking us on a tour of the temple, which felt wholly unnecessary, especially as she explained certain rites and ceremonies we were already familiar with. Mom seemed to grow in annoyance as I glanced at her, her arms folded over her chest as Grace went over the Church’s use of a moon dial in the center of the temple.

“What’s your problem with us?” I said, done with Grace’s superiority.

Grace seemed unbothered by my question, and answered casually, “You’re pagans, for one.”

“We worship the same Goddess, Priestess,” Mom said shortly. “We have the same rites, the same texts. I believe your attitude has more to do with the fact the White Queens are an extension of the Goddess herself-”

“Like I said, pagans. Witches, if I can be frank.”

I was shocked at this woman’s tone toward my mom. I didn’t even know how to respond.

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But Mom didn’t lash out. She stood calmly, peering at Grace with skepticism.

“Let’s get to what we’re here for, shall we? As much as I appreciate your gracious tour, I am more interested in what you want to know about the moonstone. Such a pagan thing, I would say, for you to even know about—”

Mom was cut off by Grace, who had balled her hands into

fists.

Grace had gray-blonde hair that was pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She was taller than Mom but not taller than me, and I had to look down at her slightly as she spoke. She looked all business in her white and silver robes.

“It belongs to the Church. I need it returned to us at once.”

“You’re mistaken, Priestess,” Mom said, reaching down to tap her finger on the moon dial. “The moonstone belongs to the White Queens. It always has, and ALWAYS will.”

Mom truly turned into a diamond under pressure. I was thankful to have her back to her full health. She seemed to glow in the light coming through the glass ceiling of the cathedral, her eyes glistening with challenge as she waited for Grace’s response.

I took notice of Mom’s use of the moonstones as singular, which matched Grace’s response. She had no idea there were multiple pieces.

I felt a ripple of unease creep over my skin as I watched Grace stare Mom down, her face perfectly expressionless.

“You don’t have it, do you?”

“Not anymore,” Mom lied, her tone soft and casual.

I steeled my own expression, hoping the flush prickling across my cheeks didn’t give anything away. I couldn’t lie to save my life.

“Then where is it?”

“May I ask why it is so important to the Church to have it in their possession?”

Grace ran her tongue along her lower lip, looking thor oughly irked by the question.

“The Church has rights to all the relics related to the Moon Goddess, regardless of whose possession they are in. Includ ing yours.”

“Is that why you aided Damian in the overthrow of Drogo mor?”

I almost fainted. I fought as hard as I could to stay upright as Mom stared blankly at Grace, tilting her head to the side as Grace’s face underwent a great transformation.

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“How else would Romero have gotten the map? You said it yourself. The Church lays claim to all artifacts related to the Moon Goddess.”

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Grace swallowed, then began to back away from the

moon dial. Mom followed.

“Who are you working with? Is it Tasia?”

Grace turned as white as her robes when Mom said Tasia’ s name. She looked around, suddenly frantic.

“Do not speak her name here-”

“Why? Will she hear us? Is this where you’re hiding her?”

“She is the Moon Goddess, Queen Maeve. You must un derstand-”

“No,” Mom said firmly. “She is not the Moon Goddess. She is a misled girl with a vendetta about something that hap pened thousands of years ago. She is a girl with powers she doesn’t understand and powers she refuses to use for good. Had the Church not tempted Damian with the map, had they not given it to Romero for safe keeping during the war-going against their own allies-none of this would be happening.”

“Mom, how do you know all of this?”

Grace was sickly pale, her eyes wide. She had come into this trying to wear us down, and Mom had been in on her grand scheme the entire time. Grace was the High Priestess. She was part of the High Elder Council. She was the head of the Church. How could this possibly be?

“Where is she?” Mom bit out, anger bringing color to her cheeks.

Grace ran for it, her robes trailing behind her as she turned into a darkened hallway, leaving us alone in the grand marble foyer of the temple.

“What the hell was that all about?” I hissed, my voice echoing on the walls despite my attempt to whisper.

Mom looked pleased with herself, exhaling deeply. “Noth ing, honestly. I was guessing, throwing things until they stuck, so to speak. I found it odd that Damian’s forces left the Tem ple untouched during their invasion, while they wrecked prac tically everything else. It was especially odd that she told you she knew about the moonstone, and that we had it, given the fact that the Church forbids belief in ancient magic.”

“Well, you hit the nail on the head.”

She was walking toward the entrance now. I followed, looking over my shoulder at the corridor where Grace had fled.

“But how did you know she’s harboring Tasia?” I asked as we stepped outside, the bitter chill of the air biting against my cheeks as we walked across the large, ornate garden toward the rectory.

I noticed the difference between the two buildings now that Mom had mentioned something about the Temple being untouched. The rectory had scaffolding along its outer walls, and new stained-glass windows had been installed. It was a mess, compared to the temple.

“I don’t, but now I can tell your father I all but confirmed Tasia is in Valoria. In Mirage, most likely.”

I sucked in my breath, her nonchalant attitude toward Troy and Dad’s plan to go off and finish things without us making much more sense now.

“Some things are just easier when handled diplomatically,

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you know. But that’s not the way of our men, is it?” She smiled, looking at me over her shoulder as we entered the rec

tory.

“This is feeling less and less like a family matter, Mom,” I grunted as I stepped through the arched doorway, finding myself in the center of a massive… library?

It was not what I was expecting. The walls were lined with shelves that spanned four stories, maybe more. A domed ceil ing similar to that of the library at the castle but much larger hung over our heads, with a large chandelier at its center.

“I thought… I thought this was the rectory for the Church? Where the priestesses lived?”

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“Long ago, maybe. Now it’s where they keep their records and the records of the Alphas and Beta who rule in Valoria. It belongs to the university now.” Mom looked around, looking cheerful, whereas I felt like things were starting to really un

ravel.

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“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Troy said tiredly as he ran his fingers through his hair, blinking several times as he con tinued to look down at a massive leather – bound book, its pages yellowed and fraying with age.

Mom nodded, her legs crossed as she leaned back into a high-backed chair in the private reading room we had ac quired, looking terribly smug. “Well, what now? You know the High Priestess will flee-”

“And so what if she does? I am willing to bet she is the least of our problems. Grace has been a pain in the ass since I

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first met her. She believes she is the leader of the Council,

when it doesn’t work that way. Corruption in the Church has been going on for centuries, Troy. She was after wealth, plain as day. It’s likely the Church had no interest in the moon stones and more interest in the other items in the tomb of Ly caon, which was likely promised by Damian if they aided in the invasion.”

“So you really don’t believe she even knows where Tasia is?” I quipped, trying not to fidget in my chair.

“I believe she knows Tasia is here, in Valoria. But Hayden has already confirmed that, has he not? The Priestess needed to go, Maeve. It was something your father and I have dis cussed at length, and what happened at the gala only con firmed that our suspicions about her are correct.”

“So all of this, everything that’s happened since the inva sion, has been about nothing but greed?” I was dumbfounded and righteously angry.

“And power,” Troy huffed, flipping a page of the book. “Don’t forget that.”

“What exactly does she think she can do with the stones? She’s not a White Queen, and you need the blood of a White Queen to use them! Plus, we already brought them together, and all that happened was Mom got her powers back -” I paused, swallowing against the dryness in my mouth as I fired off my words in rapid succession. “Sorry, Mama. That was a huge deal and I’m happy you’re back, but anyway-”

“That’s the thing Maeve; we don’t know. We only know what Una told us, and so far, only a fraction of her interpreta tions have been correct. Tasia even said the prophecy stated

the twenty-first White Queen would bring the stones togeth er and bring the Moon Goddess back home, into our realm. Did she not? You, Rosalie, brought the stones together. It was a joint effort. You’re the nineteenth White Queen, and Maeve is the twentieth. Whatever was prophesied to happen, didn’t happen.” Troy was visibly frustrated.

I felt like going to him, but something stopped me.

“I do believe, however, that Tasia plans on killing all of us, except for you.” Troy leaned back in his chair, looking nothing but defeated.

“What makes me so special?”

“I think it has something to do with your connection with Hanna,” Mom said sadly, running her hands over her jeans. “You can speak to Duck, too. None of us can. You haven’t test ed your wolf powers yet, so we don’t know if you can do any thing the rest of us can’t do.”

“We need to do that, soon,” Troy turned back to his book.

“Well, sorry to disappoint everyone. I’ve been a little pre occupied with a litter of newborn boys!” I was sick of this. All of it. The uncertainty, the mess and danger it was creating for my family.

“That’s not what I meant, Maeve-”

“Then what exactly did you mean?” I bit out, not caring that my mom was witnessing our fight. Troy looked at me with a heavy gaze, his brow knitted in sorrow.

“You’re the key, remember? It’s come up several times. You matter in this, for whatever reason. Tasia needs some

thing from you. I just don’t know what.”

He looked away from me, flipping another page. Then his demeanor changed abruptly, his shoulders going rigid as he bent over the book, his finger gliding down the page until it stopped.