Forever in the Past and Forever in the Future
Chapter 37

My heart sinks. No no no no. This is not happening. This is NOT happening! Okay, calm down, Kas.

Meditate. Find him through our connection. You're a Goddess, damn it.

"Alright, if I have to be on lockdown, can it be in the meditation room, please?" I ask Lady Camille.

"Of course, Luna lokaste. Please be careful in your search. Sister Delilah, please accompany your Luna. Should she need anything, you are to assist in any way you can," Lady Camille says in a comforting manner.

"Thank you, Lady Camille," I sigh with my hands over my heart.

Marco gently takes me by the elbow and leads me to the meditation room with James and Delilah right behind us. Marco and James have never really needed to protect me from a threat. It was shocking to see how their demeanor changed from being watchful to being protective.

There's no windows or other doors in the meditation room. It is dimly lit with mats and cushions placed on the floor. There is a hint of music playing in the background. One way in, one way out. The perfect location to be protected by my guards. They make sure no one else is in the room, James kisses Delilah deeply, then they step out, and close the door behind us.

"Okay, Delilah, I'm going to try to replace my mate through our connection. Please pray to Goddess Hecate to keep me safe," I look into her deep blue eyes as we join hands.

"Okay. I'm right here if you need me, Luna lokaste," she looks at me with compassion and worry. I can't help but chuckle.

"Delilah, if you're coming to live with us, please, call me Kas or Luna Kas if you insist on using my title," I plead with her with as much of a smile as I can muster.

She smiles shyly and nods.

I sit on the soft mat on the floor, close my eyes, and let my spirit extend out into the universe.

Bronx's POV

I wake up in a dark, musty room. The air is stale, hot, and humid. My head is pounding. I try to shake out the feeling and look around me. The edges of my vision are a bit blurry but I can still see.

Okay, first thing's first, I need to orient myself and assess my situation.

I'm in the center of the dungeon cell, hanging by silver shackles. My shoes are missing and my toes are barely touching the damp ground. My body weight is putting pressure on the silver shackles around my wrists, and let me tell you, that shit burns. Welp, not a great situation.

"Saint, you there? You okay?"

"Concentrated wolfsbane?" he asks with a groan, "What kind of sick fuck is that guy?" Alright, so the rag to the face was full of wolfsbane. I don't taste any in my mouth, so I didn't ingest any. That's at least one good sign.

"Okay, man. I'll figure out how to get outta here. Let me know when you are ready, cause when I get out, we're gonna need to shift."

"Ten-four," he groans weakly. I know he will rebound quickly.

Graham Connors. How did he get on my jet? It had to be that substitute pilot. Doesn't matter now. Focus, Bronx.

What does matter is, where the Hell am I? I don't see anything distinctive to help identify where I could be. Great. Nothing smells familiar. Great. I don't hear any noises outside, so I'm somewhere remote. Great. There's one small window with bars. No way I could fit through it regardless. Great. The only way out is through the cell door, which is locked and appears to be made out of silver. Things are not looking up for me. At least I didn't ingest any wolfsbane.

I look up to see my shackles attached to an eye hook in the ceiling. The ceiling looks like it is made of cement which is crumbling. I wonder how weak the cement is? If I can get enough leverage from my bodyweight, maybe I can pull the eye hook out. It's the only plan I have. I lift my legs up toward my elbows and throw my feet down forcefully.

Burning pain rips through my wrists but I feel the hook loosen. I make the same movement one more time. The skin on my wrists is blistering from the pressure against the silver. The hook is deep in the ceiling but it's moving.

I'm about to lift my legs up a third time but I hear a door creak and footsteps coming down the hall. I also hear a soft dragging, scraping sound. The smell of whiskey, wolfsbane, and rogue wolf hit my nose. Connors comes into view. His clothes are torn and disheveled. He's holding an empty liquor bottle in one hand and a whip in the other. The whip looks like a cat of nine tails with tiny rows of barbs at the ends. I is dripping wet with wolfsbane.

"Well well well, lookie what the rogue caught himself," he slurs heavily, "I got myself a big bad Alpha Regent."

He slowly approaches me. I swear he took a bath in the whiskey.

"Where is my slave?" he snarls. His eyes are feral behind his intoxication. °

"Kas is NOT your slave and her location is not your concern, motherfucker," I growl and spit at his face. I have to keep him talking. If he's talking, he's distracted. If he's distracted, I have a better chance of making it out of this alive. :

"Bronx Mason, you are not in a position to say no. You will tell me," he snarls again. "And why would I do that?" I growl back at him. Anger is flowing through me. I yank my wrists forcefully against the shackles, ignoring the pain. I feel more movement coming from the eye hook.

He doesn't answer. A sick smile comes across his face. He unzips his pants and pees on my legs. Gross. I feel Saint starting to stir. He won't stand for this kind of disrespect. "Because you won't like what happens if you don't," he laughs as he sways and zips his pants.

"If you kill me, you'll never replace her. I'm the only one who knows where she is," I retort defiantly.

His cold, drunk eyes turn black.

"Oh hey there wolfie. What's your name?" I egg on his wolf peeking through.

"I'm Ruckus and I want my slave back," he takes a couple of steps forward.

"Not gonna happen, big guy. She was never meant to be your slave. You and Connors took an innocent girl and abused the shit out of her," I snarl back. Neither Saint nor I are afraid of some feral wolf. Especially if they threaten our mate.

"If you won't tell me where she is, then you get a taste of what she experiences when she disobeys me," he roars and spins me so my back faces him. I feel movement above me as the eye hook wiggles looser. He rips my shirt off and steps back. The first lash makes my back feel like it's on fire.

"Arrghh!!" I yell out. Holy. Shit.

"Fuck! More wolfsbane?!" Saint yells in my mind at the same time.

Connors rains down lashes with the whip until he's out of breath. The pain is excruciating. I feel myself getting weaker with each thrash. The puddle of blood under my feet is getting bigger. Filling the air with a copper smell.

Saint has no choice but to retreat. Any progress he made on recovering has been erased by the poison now weaving its way through my veins. We're relying solely on my physical strength now. I won't let him down. The poison is going to kill him if I don't do something fast. I can feel him fading. °

I'm helpless, hanging from the ceiling. I try kicking Connors but he is too far away. I'm panting but can't catch my breath between each stinging slash against my skin. What he doesn't realize is with each lash, I pull down harder on my wrists. The eye hook I am tethered to becomes looser and looser.

"Tell me where she is!?" he rages.

"Get fucked," I grunt. I take a chance as I use the last of my strength and heave myself up, grab the chains fully with my hands and yank my full bodyweight down. The eye hook finally gives way, causing me to come crashing down on my raw bleeding back into the pool of my own blood.

The impact knocks the wind out of me. Combined with the pain of the wolfsbane laced lashes, I see stars. Before I can react,

the silver chains fall forcefully against my bare chest blistering my skin. I blink a few times trying to orient myself, when I realize Connors is standing over me. His face is surprised but still full of drunken rage.

He pulls his arm back and brings the whip down with his full force. I tighten my chains taught in my hands and quickly extend my arms straight up. The chains catch the ends of the whip tangling the two together. The tangled leather mixed in the chains makes it easy to yank Connors down on top of me. He is so drunk, he doesn't even try to stop himself from falling. His neck lands directly on the outstretched chain. I catch him and quickly wrap the chain around causing him to choke and burn at the same time. I manage to roll us over so I'm on top of him. He looks dazed, even before I start punching him. Even with Saint incompacitated, my rage is more than enough for both of us. I start punching him with as much strength as I have, pulling my arm as far back as the shackles will allow and letting my fist fall heavily on his face. I keep punching until he doesn't have a face left to speak of.

When I feel like I have no strength left, all my rage exacted on Connors' face, I unwrap the chain from around his neck and roll off of him falling back with exhaustion. I lay on the ground trying to catch my breath, feeling woozy. Knowing I have to get up and move. I have to get out of here. °

I roll over and sit up on my knees. Every movement is torture in and of itself. I pat down Connors and replace the key to the silver chains and the dungeon cell. I free myself, standing in the puddle of my own blood and I teeter out of the cell, closing Connors inside and locking it. I throw the key down the drain of the neighboring cell and slide along the wall of the long hallway as I make my way out of the dungeon. I look down at my hands, only the top edge of Kas's quote remains on my wrist. The rest blistered off by the silver shackles. 2

I push open the door to the dungeon and fall forward onto a dusty hardwood floor. I seem to be in a small abandoned packhouse. I drag myself up the stairs and replace a bedroom with a dirty, ancient looking mattress on the floor. I can't catch my breath, each one is more short and ragged than the last. I close the door and lock it, then collapse onto the mattress. The edges of my vision turn dark. "Saint, I can't move. I can't get up. We're dying. Th-this is the end, buddy." 2

There's no answer. I can't feel him. Saint is gone.

"Saint?" I continue to speak to him. Even if he is just a memory, he is all I have right now. I can't stand thinking I'm alone in these last moments of my life. I will always have Saint. Forever in the past and forever in the future, right? But I don't want him in the future. I want him here right now. °

A realization hits me at that moment. This is what Connors did to Kas. Over and over again. He destroyed her body, shattered her mind and filled her with deadly poison. Taking her to the brink of death but she survived. Lex had still been asleep; Kas was alone. Just like I am now. She is infinitely stronger than I had ever been.

I feel a tear slide down my cheek as the world turns blurry, my limbs go numb, and everything fades away as I float off into oblivion.