Chapter 60
VANDLE
The rules were different out here.
Back in Anarchy, the moment you had your sights set on an enemy, it was fair game. There was a lot more… bureaucracy when it came to killing in this place, and I was impatient.
In the warm light of a dim hallway, I inhaled the strange, resinous sweetness in the air—the scent of wood polish and fresh paper. This church was an elegant, modern building with clean decor.
I don’t know why, but I’d always imagined a place of worship should be more… inviting.
Warm.
But I had little to compare it to.
The foundation of my memories was sterile rooms in an endless facility that smelled of disinfectant and chemicals, then the damp stone walls of Anarchy.
Every place I entered was a new set of textures and smells. All foreign. All building blocks of a world I’d never been a part of until now.
It was why I was taking things slow. Unlike Phantom and his list of dreams, and Karma with his sketching (and now cooking classes), I needed to understand the world I’d entered before I knew what I wanted.
Sin and I both had been a bit lost outside of the pack.
That's why, I guessed, neither of us were displeased with the nature of this trip.
We were both relieved to be out of Anarchy, but we were also a bit… directionless.
This felt familiar.
A hunt.
Something I knew well.
It was a Tuesday afternoon, so the church was quiet. We’d passed only a few people on our way in, and it was a massive space.
We knew the layout and the shortest way from here to the nearest exit—which wasn’t far at all. We also knew the security cameras were on a loop right now.
Before us was a door with a plaque that read: ‘High Priest Anderson.’
This institution, I’d been told, was a marriage of the ancient and modern, and seemingly much more a cult than a commonplace religious structure.
I looked obscenely well-dressed—Ransom and Dusk had seen to it before the meeting.
I wore an expensive watch Dusk had produced for me and an obnoxiously large cross around my neck.
At my side, Sin looked just as put together in Oxfords and a well-tailored suit.
He carried himself well in it, despite the vicious creature I knew was beneath.
He glanced at me, jaw set, before lifting a hand to knock.
There was a call of assent from within, and I took a breath, steeling myself before I entered.
I shared one last glance with Sin and felt the same resolve from him in the bond. Then he turned the handle and stepped in.
We’d called the meeting under false pretences, and there were two people waiting within: the High Priest himself and his son, Luke Anderson.
Both alphas.
Both… utterly and painfully average.
The High Priest was in his fifties, balding, with a few visible liver spots. His son, in his mid-twenties, was… plain. Wiry, with unnotable features that no amount of dressing up would make special.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but somehow it felt wrong that the two who’d caused my mate so much pain should be anything more than weaselly nobodies given false elevation by an institution I wanted to see torn to the ground.
Luke got to his feet, eyes jumping between me and Sin. “Nice to meet you, Vandle and…” He seemed put off by Sin’s eyes. “Sinclair, was it?”
Sin nodded curtly. We’d lied, since Sin’s name felt a bit on the nose, and we’d wanted to secure the meeting.
He was making a habit of using contacts to disguise his eyes when in the city, but we’d made an exception for this occasion, since ‘uncomfortable’ was the least we wanted to impose upon these two.
We took a seat after introductions, which meant shaking his hand, and I had to fight the urge to wipe that hand off on the wine-red chair cushion as I focused on the meeting.
“Would you like a drink?” High Priest Anderson asked. “Tea, coffee—?”
“No, thank you,” I said.
High Priests were among the highest roles in the church, called upon to settle disputes, bless rituals, and select pairings between alpha packs and between packs and omegas.
We’d set up the meeting pretending to be a pack from a distant Ascendant church, looking for an alpha to join.
Since Luke had been publicly shamed after being caught with Crescent only a few weeks ago, we knew High Priest Anderson might be desperate.
“We were told you’ve been looking for an alliance for a while.
” He was reading off his notes. “You were elevated by High Priest Barrett only a few months ago. We aren’t as familiar with the West Coast priests, but we’d certainly be open.
You seem like a smart young man—and a Seer, which is very good,” he said.
“I warn you, though. It won’t be a quiet pack with my Luke in it.
He’s busy all the time. Phone going off day and night.
Can’t stop him volunteering—the youth centre practically has a bed for him. ”
Luke nodded, eyes sliding from his father back to me with a nervous smile. “We have a lot of young alphas in the area from troubled families. I spend time with them when I can—offer guidance and stability.”
“And the food drives,” the High Priest added. “Every Monday like clockwork, and he’ll stock your pantry with extras—”
“The food’s not always that appealing,” Luke chuckled. “So I like to get a few treats for the kids. It can make a world of difference—and you can’t put a price on those smiles.”
I stared at him, stomach twisting uncomfortably, and for a moment it was hard to smooth my expression against the snarl fighting to come out.
My heart was racing, hatred boiling up.
I was expecting… cruelty. Immorality. To be looking in the face of evil. Like the sunken eyes of those who ran the experiments. Evil acknowledged—traded for the greater good, but that they would know what they were.
This was something else entirely.
Food drives?
Was it… fake?
“You’ll have to be okay with that,” Luke went on. “Sometimes the teens will drop by the house. Nice to have a getaway. Do you like charity work?”
“He’s big into community—building trust,” his father added.
I inclined my head, clearing my throat. “That is what I’m here for. We want to build more connections.”
The High Priest nodded eagerly before his eyes slid to Sin again with uncertainty. “And is this…?” He glanced at Sin. “Your… assistant?” He seemed a little too hopeful.
“He’s pack,” I said.
“Ah.” Luke’s eyes darted between us, his jaw clenched. “Well,” he said, voice strained. “We did hear they do things a little differently in those… progressive cities.” He laughed uncomfortably. “But, uh—”
“Is the bond with your omega—Sinclair—official?” High Priest Anderson asked, waving a hand at his son and not looking at Sin.
“I follow strict rules when it comes to omegas,” I said calmly. “I wouldn’t want to stray from God’s guidance.” I’d watched a few sermons last night. It wasn’t truly necessary—we could pull weapons right now and drag the two out—but I wanted to hear what they had to say.
So did Sin.
I wanted to know what monsters could have hurt an omega like Crescent. A woman who’d mutated herself to be what they wanted—only to be violated and discarded.
And this… was somehow worse than I’d expected.
“It’s why I wanted this meeting in person,” I went on. “I heard some… troubling rumours about why the pack for Luke,” I glanced at him for a moment, “fell apart.”
Luke paled.
This was a strained time for them. I knew the High Priest was looking for a pack for his son, but the Ascendants were in a troubling time right now—thanks to our efforts.
The Convent itself was, unfortunately, a protected place of worship, with far too many connections to destroy. But the Kingsman pack was powerful, and they’d used their leverage to force a full investigation.
With government eyes on them, we believed any foul play or clear abuse of power would be kept at bay for a while, though we intended to keep watch. But it wasn’t like it had been, with corruption blatantly rampant and omegas being offered to packs like cattle to be bought.
With that out of the way, there were a few last loose ends that our pack wanted to handle personally.
“Allow me to straighten out any rumours about my son. Idle talk leads to sin, after all, so I doubt there’s much truth in what you’ve heard.”
“I was told he was caught with an omega without a bond or blessing in place?” I asked, gaze drifting from the High Priest to Luke.
Luke’s face went red. “I was… It was… a mistake. I was entrapped.”
“Entrapped?”
“The devil’s work,” the High Priest added. “We have strict rules when it comes to the omegas in the Convent, but they weren’t well behaved. I think an evil had begun to spread. My son was tricked.”
I’d heard the truth—I’d asked Crescent. She’d recounted it carefully, like each word might bite her, not meeting my eyes while her fingers anxiously ran back and forth over her keys.
My chest tightened at the memory. She’d shut down the bond in a way she never did. She always was open and honest, her feelings on display, so it crushed me when she didn’t feel she could let me in on this pain.
It was more than just pain.
It was shame we were all trying to pry from her, one stubborn thread at a time.
Sin was stiff at my side.
He’d been there, too, eyes tracing each movement of Crescent’s fingers along that key, holding her tight as if he wanted to squeeze her free of the pain.
“Tricked?” The word came stiffly from my mouth, but I forced it out.
I wanted to hear it from them.
I needed to hear it from them before I broke them. Before I made sure that no omega would ever be a victim of them again.