Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Sold As The Alpha King’s Breeder 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.

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

o

“You’re being too hard on him.”

neck-”

with Dad being distant and se

tell they had hurt

“I’m sorry, Mama.”

I understand why

do it? Be married to a man who-who does things,

hope you will trust Troy’s judgment here. We may be White Queens, but they

times.”

walked up the

and talked with grace, but

disdain for Mom and me was obvious. Maybe those ties Mom was talking about hadn’t been met with

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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

I said, done with Grace’s

by my question, and answered casually, “You’re

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

Witches, if I can

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

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stood calmly, peering at Grace with

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

was cut off by Grace, who

fists.

nape of her neck. She was taller than Mom but not taller than me, and I had to look down at her slightly

belongs to the Church. I need it returned

moon dial.

thankful to have her back to her full health. She seemed to glow in the light coming through the glass

notice of Mom’s use of the moonstones as singular, which matched Grace’s response.

my skin as I

have it, do

anymore,” Mom lied, her tone

my own expression, hoping the flush prickling across my cheeks

“Then where is it?”

to the

her tongue along her lower lip, looking

related to the Moon Goddess, regardless of whose possession

Damian in the overthrow

fainted. I fought as hard as I could to stay upright as Mom stared blankly at Grace,

don’t know

Romero have gotten the map? You said it yourself. The Church lays claim

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to back away from

moon dial. Mom followed.

you working with?

as white as her robes when Mom said Tasia’ s name. She

speak

she hear us? Is

is the Moon Goddess, Queen Maeve. You

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

do you know all of

her grand scheme the entire time. Grace was the High Priestess.

out, anger

for it, her robes trailing behind her as she turned into a darkened hallway, leaving us alone in the grand marble

hissed, my voice echoing on the walls despite

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

the nail

walking toward the entrance now. I followed, looking over my shoulder at the corridor

outside, the bitter chill of

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