Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder novel Chapter 323

Chapter 103: Betrayal

Lv.1

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.

o

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.

0.00%

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

7.82%

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

o

“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.

0

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.

Lv.1

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.