Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder novel Chapter 338

Chapter 118: The Isles in Ruins

Maeve

Keaton was standing with his arms crossed, peering up at the ceiling of the sprawling foyer of the castle of Poldesse. The ceiling was gone, however, having crumbled away long ago. Vines had taken over the entire area, and the walls were covered in graffiti. I thought it rather artistic, especially the more colorful graffiti with even more colorful language.

Troy, however, was deeply stressed.

“Your dad did this on purpose. He’s testing us-” he huffed, kicking pieces of fallen sheetrock as we walked through the remains of the castle.

“What? Was he the one who ripped this place apart?” I said as I ran my fingers along the banister of the wide marble stair case as we started up the stairs.

“No, but he knew how much work was needed when he sent us here-”

“It was a hurricane, roughly fifteen years ago now. Tore the roof right off the castle, just like that,” Keaton interjected, snapping his fingers.

“Good Goddess, a hurricane did this?” | gasped, looking around at the destruction.

“It wasn’t nearly that bad. Negligence is the cause of this,” Troy said curtly, grabbing me by the elbow as he led me over a mass of vines that snaked down a wide, shadowed hallway.

“This is insane,” I breathed as the three of us continued our inspection of the castle. It was a huge building, at least twice the size of the castle Drogomor, but in such a state I thought it unlikely we’d be able to live in it any time soon, if at all. Some rooms were definitely livable and had been used in at least the last year or so, but I wasn’t sure I wanted the boys there when part of it was in this state of disrepair.

“Did Damian live here?” | asked as we walked through a huge bedroom with glass still in the windows and the wood floors still intact.

“Yeah, he did. Once he left the house Soren used to live in when he was in charge here, apparently, or so I’m told. The northern wing of the castle is in good shape, from what I can tell. But there’s no running water or electricity=” Troy began, testing a light switch along the wall. Keaton pursed his lips, his arms still crossed over his chest as he looked out the window to the sea below.

“I say raze the place and start over. It’s falling into the sea.”

| “I think it’s our only option,” Troy agreed, but I could tell it wasn’t what he wanted to do. He was troubled by the notion of tearing the castle down, but it went further than us needing a place to live.

“What if we didn’t? What if we mended it?” | asked, looking from Keaton to Troy.

Keaton laughed, but Troy looked at me, his eyes boring into mine.

“It could take us years-”

“This castle has been here for hundreds of years. It’s a landmark, surely. We can’t just tear it down and build some thing new. I know that’s not what you want.”

Troy’s mouth twitched at the corner, fighting back a smile.

There was one problem, however. A problem Lynus had made very, very clear.

“We have absolutely no money,” Keaton protested, then paused, clearing his throat. “Well, I have money, but you don’t-”

“I’m not going to ask you to sell your earrings to help us rebuild the castle, don’t worry,” Troy teased, sitting down on the edge of the bed. A puff of dust came up off the bare mat tress when he sat. “Romero hid his money somewhere. It’s not in the bank of Avondale. It’s likely not here, in the castle. No one knows where it is.”

11 pha che “But wouldn’t Damian have had access to it, as Alpha?” | asked, crossing the room to inspect the vanity. Old bottles of perfume sat covered in dust, their contents having gone ran cid long ago. I wondered who this room had belonged to, but then thought better of it, knowing of only one woman who could have lived in this castle. Maddalyn.

“I doubt it. Damian had his own sources of income. That’s gone too, likely plundered away by his cronies in his absence. I don’t think he had much, anyway, based on what Carl said about their deal.”

“He did turn a blind eye to the riches in the tomb,” I re minded Troy, “He made such an awful mess of things. If he had taken a moment to inspect the content of those vases, like you said, he would’ve found enough gold to repair the whole of the Isles-” | tapered off as the energy in the room shifted, and turned very slowly from the vanity, catching the silent exchange that passed between Troy and Keaton. “No, absolutely not-”

“It’s not like it’s something we haven’t done before, Maeve,” Keaton said with alacrity, leaning against the wall near the windows. “We know the way, I have that haunted compass on the ship, still. Hell, we could be there and back within a few weeks in this weather.”

“No!” | cried, turning my attention to Troy, who only shrugged. “I-I have an inheritance, I’m sure. We could ask my dad”

“We’re not asking your father for money, Maeve. This might be part of his territory, but Damian is the one who ficked it up,” Troy said sternly, shaking his head. “This is the only way, and plus, the riches in the tomb will help jumpstart the changes I want to see in the isles; better schools, clinics-”

“I’m going with you, obviously,” I started, my cheeks color ing as panic prickled across my skin.

“No… you’re not. You need to stay here and be Luna. And be with the boys. Keaton and I can handle this.”

Igaped at him, then turned to Keaton, who arched a brow at me in challenge.

“It was your idea, princess,” Keaton said.

“It wasn’t an idea-”

“It was the best idea, and our only option, unless Romero’s fortune falls out of the walls on our way out of here. Do you want to live on the Persephone for the rest of our lives, or do you want a home to live in, with a big, gated garden for the boys to play in?” Troy leaned back, crossing his ankle over his knee.

“One problem out of many;” | sneered, placing my hands on my hips, “is who is going to buy the artifacts you bring back from the tomb.”

“Oh, that’s simple,” Keaton replied, a broad grin on his face. “Tempest.”

“Tempest? The High Priestess?”

“Lynus will explain everything over lunch,” he said, and we left the castle.

| straightened up a bit, shifting Oliver’s weight in my arms as I narrowed my eyes back at him, sizing him up. A man roughly my father’s age came bounding out of their house, waving at me apologetically as he leaned to whisper harshly in the ear of the man I assumed was his father.