Forever in the Past and Forever in the Future

In the morning, I board the jet only to find an unfamiliar pilot performing preflight checks. Oh, Hell no.

I'm not going to fly with a pilot I don't know. First off, I have no idea what his experience is. Secondly, too many media outlets try to sneak around to get information about me and my company. I wouldn't put it past a network to plant a pilot to try to get intel on me. MasonCo is a multibillion dollar corporation. Because of the nature of our work, I usually decline interviews. I don't need any information about my clients to accidentally leak to anyone. Unfortunately, this tactic makes the media more desperate to find out how I am so successful. When I do go out in public in the human world, paparazzi always seem to find me and make up the most ridiculous shit about my business dealings and relationship status.

This guy looks familiar, but I can't put a finger on where I have seen him before. Definitely not on one of my private flights. My intuition suddenly tells me I need to be cautious.

"Where's Mitch?" I skip the pleasantries, as I take off my suit jacket and drape it over the seat next to me. Internally, I'm wary but I try not to let it show in my voice. Plus, I already feel annoyed by this change in personnel with no forewarning.

"Good morning, Alpha," the stranger says with a small salute, "Mitch is on paternity leave, his wife had her pup this week. Name's Joe Morris, substitute pilot for the weekend.” I look him over for a minute, annoyed that he thinks he can speak to me so casually. He's on the younger side with close-cropped blond hair and clear gray eyes; over six feet tall but not as tall as me, with a slim build. He averts his eyes when he realizes I'm staring longer than socially acceptable. °

I can smell that he's a werewolf, but I don't recognize his scent at all. Why does this guy look so familiar? Did he serve in the military with me? No way. He is not muscular enough to have ever been a warrior.

"Give me a minute before we take off? I just need to make a quick call," It's an order, not a question. He nods in confirmation and continues with his preflight checks.

"Of course, Alpha, we have plenty of time," his nerves come through in his tone. He nods in confirmation and continues with his preflight checks.

I make my way down the stairs of the plane and light a cigarette before calling Carly. She answers on the third ring, sounding groggy. "Carly, why didn't you tell me there was going to be a substitute pilot?" I snarl into the phone. When I dialed her number, I reminded myself to remember not to be too harsh with my tone but I'm angry she didn't tell me about this change in personnel. She instantly sounds more alert on hearing my voice. '

"I-I just got the call at one a.m, Alpha. This guy was the only one I could find on such short notice," she says with a touch of fear in her voice.

"Vaughn wasn't available?"

is in Colombia with Beta Lenora," I hear

Okay. Well, has this guy been vetted through security at least? I have no idea who h eis," I ask, impatiently, "You expect me to let my mate be flown across

submitted his background paperwork at one- thirty in the morning. It's only five a.m. now. It's going to

cleared. Which would be this two-thirty p.m. The airport doesn't have any open take-off slots until three p.m. If you choose not to take off in half an hour as planned, you won't be able to take off until three. You can always fly commercial but I know you don't like to draw that kind of attention. If you've changed your mind, the next commercial flight leaves at eleven a.m. and has a three-hour layover at Heathrow. You would get into France about the same time as the afternoon private flight.

fora minute. I can feel my patience fraying as Saint starts to

Shit.

take off in half an hour," I growl. I hang

getting back on the plane. Something is definitely off here. Mitch has been my pilot for four years. He never mentioned a pup on the way. Not thathe and I play golf on the weekends or anything, but I feel like I would have some idea

right now, you need to be on high

need to be on high alert, Saint," he mocks

my face with my hands, and take a deep breath before I get

dozen scenarios in my head in case

and a half into the flight, I decide I'm just being paranoid. Everything is going smoothly. I'm engrossed in reading the New York Times when Freddie, my usual steward comes by with a cup

you," I say

if you need me. Just ring the bell if there's anything else you need," the man says. His tone is nervous. I dismiss it since I have

and take a sip of the

"What the Hell