Page 70 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

“Well…” Reyes hums. “I thought we could go and talk to them.”

I gape at him. “You know they want to kill you, right?”

“The more I think about it, the more I feel like an alliance might be a good idea,” Reyes says, ignoring my skepticism completely. “The Heavenly Host abandoned your people. They need medical supplies from the city, we need food and allies in the country. If we took out the shield generator outside of town, we might even be able to destroy the Celestial Curtain and bring real sunlight back to Homestead.”

I fold my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. “I think you’re overestimating the people of Homestead’s rational thinking skills,” I mutter. “I was always a realist, but there are some true zealots there—people who believe this is a biblical apocalypse, that they’re real Angels and not…well, whatever they are.”

“Aliens,” Reyes offers without hesitation.

I hesitate, my mouth opening and closing before I manage to reply. “Right,” I say. “Still not sold on that.”

He sighs, leaning back against the edge of the table. “I know for a fact that it’s true; just talk to anyone from outside the U.S., or…well, anywhere but the south. But for now, we need to figure out what to do about Homestead. So do you think you could set up a meeting?”

His words hang in the air, but my mind drifts to the people I left behind in Homestead. The people who raised me, fought beside me, and buried their dead in the name of the Heavenly Host. The ones who still speak about the Boreans like they’re messengers of God, not invaders from the stars.

It’s not like I can blame them entirely. The Boreanslookthe part: radiant and otherworldly, glowing white,flying.They descended from the sky during the Convergence, bringing promises of salvation and blessings. Who wouldn’t want to believe in them? Especially in the chaos and horror of those first years, when it felt like the world really was ending? When things were already so fucked up?

But then there’s the other side of it. The factories. The blessings that left people half-machine, their flesh replaced with wires and steel, their minds stripped of anything but obedience…or the experimentation centers they described as Rapture, where people returned infected with lycanthropy.

The Heavenly Host calls it “perfecting the human body,” but it looks more like making people into tools—tools that break as easily as the rest of us.

How can anyone look at that and still see angels?

And yet…they do. The people of Homestead still pray to the Host, thanking them for shielding them from the “unclean” and from the Infernal Legion–which could be entirely made up or maybe not as evil as we think. They don’t see the cost of it, or they refuse to. They don’t see the way the Angels exploit us, the way they push us further into poverty and despair while claiming it’s all part of God’s plan.

Even I believed it once. It’s not an easy thing to admit, but when the Convergence first happened, I wanted so badly to believe in the Angels. I wanted to think they were here to save us, that their blessings were gifts. And maybe that’s why it hurts so much now, seeing how wrong I was. Seeing how the people I grew up with still cling to that hope, even when it’s killing them.

“Earth to Tilda,” Reyes says, gentle but insistent. “Do you think you can set up a meeting?”

I blink, forcing myself to focus. “Sorry,” I mutter. “Yeah, I can probably get a few people to listen. But I wouldn’t hold your breath on an alliance. Most of them still think the Host is coming back.”

“They’re not,” he says firmly. His voice doesn’t waver, the confidence in his words both reassuring and unsettling. “And the sooner they realize that, the better off we’ll all be.”

I cross my arms, thinking it over. “I would need a way to get there,” I say. “Preferably something that isn’t too loud.”

“How about horseback?”

The word hits me like a jolt, and I freeze. My mind immediately goes to Annie—my horse, the one steady thing I had in the chaos before I came here. My heart tightens, a knot forming in my chest as the unspoken question rises: Is she still alive? Did she make it out after I didn’t come back? Or did she get lost in the woods, caught in the crossfire, killed in the shuffle?

“I—” My voice catches, and I bite down hard on my lip to keep from showing too much. “You have horses here?”

Reyes’ brow furrows at my reaction, his eyes searching mine like he’s trying to figure out where this sudden tension is coming from. “We do,” he says slowly. “Just promise me you won’t be angry.”

That doesn’t bode well. My stomach twists, and a flicker of dread creeps in. “Why would I be angry?” I ask, though my voice is sharper than I mean it to be.

His expression softens, but there’s a wariness in his eyes now, like he’s bracing himself. “Because…” He pauses, raking a hand through his hair. “Your horse is here. She was still tied off when we found you, and…well, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you running off…”

I don’t even register the rest of his explanation. My heart lurches at the confirmation that she’s alive, the knot in my chest loosening just enough to make way for something else—relief, overwhelming and bittersweet.

“She’s here?” My voice cracks, and I don’t care. “She’s alive?”

Reyes nods, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Alive and well. A little skittish at first, but Peaches has been looking after her. She’s got a knack with animals.”

For a moment, I can’t speak. The relief washes over me in waves, followed by a pang of guilt for not thinking of her sooner. She trusted me, carried me through so much, and I left her behind without a second thought.

“Where is she now?” I ask. “Can I see her?”

Reyes grins. “Of course,” he says. “Come on—I think she’ll be just as happy to see you.”

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