Forever in the Past and Forever in the Future

Daughters of the Moon Goddess by Neener Beener Chapter 5

Chapter 5

“Katherine. Tessa has news. Come back quickly.” Amari’s voice rings in my mind and pulls me from my thoughts. “Alright, I’m on my way,” I sigh. I shift and let Seraph take us back to the house. I step into my office to find Amari, Jasen, Tessa, and Alexandros all waiting for me. I slow my pace as I feel tension thick in the air, solidified by the serious looks on their faces. “What have you found, sister?” I ask as I sit down. I give Jasen and Alexandros a nod of respect, then turn my attention to Tessa. No one says anything. Tessa is giving me a furious look, which is mirrored by the other three werewolves glaring at me. “What?” I feel my brow knit with confusion. “Did you know someone tried to kill the guardian of the Mavri Magea almost seven years ago?” She asks with a snarl. “WHAT?! No! I wouldn’t keep information like that from you, Tessa,” I defend myself. “Is this a joke?” “Katherine, don’t play games. Was it Leticia? Don’t protect her!” Alexandros growls. “Stand down, Alexandros,” I challenge him. “Now is not the time to let The Dark divide us. We need to be united.” He crosses his arms over his broad chest and stares me down with his piercing green eyes. “I swear to all of you, I didn’t know,” I reiterate forcefully. Tessa takes a human fashion magazine out of a folder and opens it to the center spread. There is a black-and-white full-page image of Bronx Mason wearing a designer suit, staring directly at the camera. His hands clasped in front of his massive body with the posture of a confident warrior. There is a dangerous smirk on his face that only Bronx could manifest, inviting and deadly at the same time. He’s intimidating, even as a photograph on paper. He is the modern day personification of the guardians’ grandfather, Perses, Titan God of War. Unlike the other guardians, whose human spirits were simply a gift from the Goddess Hecate to our mother, she blessed Bronx’s spirit to be strong enough to protect the Mavri Magea. 1 Bronx’s slicked back black hair and olive skin are clear, even in black-and-white. The editor of the photo left the distinctive crisp green of his iris colorized. His other eye is covered with an eye patch. Next to him is a petite woman wearing a dress made of fluffy layers of tulle. She is barefoot, standing on her tiptoes on a stepladder.

in some sort of moment of happiness or bliss. The only part of her that is not in black and white is her bright purple lipstick. “We already know he lost his eye during th-,” I shake my head in frustration as I flip the page. There she is, making the rest of what I was going to say irrelevant. A perfect close-up photograph o f our baby sister. Iokaste, the leader of The Dark. She is looking directly at the camera, innocence and happiness exude from her youthful features. Her sparkly silver hair is up in a topknot, and her large, vibrant violet eyes practically pop off the page. This picture is in color, but she is wearing dark gray lipstick. Presumably, trying to distract from her perfect, fair skin being marred by the thick keloid scars on her jawline and sides of her neck. I let my fingers touch the paper where her cheek is, as I admire her stunning features. I try to speak, but the words get caught in my throat. It doesn’t matter how many lives she experiences; she is beautiful. Her life can be wonderful or devastating. It makes no difference. It’s all erased from her memory at the end of each of her human length lifetimes. A blessing and a curse, she starts with a blank slate every time she’s reincamated. 1 It ensures she always has hope and her past cannot corrupt her view of the world of the people around her. More importantly, it allows Her spirit to be cleansed of the influence of The Dark. She has a never ending faith in others that anyone else would cast off. As long as Iokaste’s human spirit is still on its journey, there is always a light in the world, now and forever. I look up from the magazine and realize my vision is blurred by tears spilling from my eyes. I wipe them away, clearing my throat at the same time. “Forgive me,” I say with a shaky voice. I take a cleansing breath before I continue, “We already knew Bronx lost his

information 1 Alexandros shrugs with a smirk on his face, “Randall Smith owed us a favor.” I read through the page of private information. The witch didn’t slit Bronx’s throat, but she did paralyze him while he was still awake. Allowing her to pull his eye from his head and slit his gut open, so she could take part of his liver. Milo Emory and Reggie Slater saved him. The men are now his Beta and Gamma. The tip of the knife broke off in his liver before the witch could do more damage to his organs. It turned out it wasn’t just a silver blade. It has some sort of curse on it. If Bronx had been any other wolf, not the guardian of The Dark, he would have died. That’s how damn strong he is. The doctors could not remove all the silver. There are still some small pieces embedded in his liver, requiring him to retire from military service. 1 We know it took him months to recover, but he didn’t leave the Blood River packhouse for over six months, so we didn’t know what he was actually recovering from until the Council released its public report I look up from the paper, feeling my face blanch, “Just like

This is bad,” I sigh in frustration, setting the paper down on the table. Just then, a loud crackling sound comes from the corner of the room, startling all five of us. We look up to see the oil lamp that has been sitting dormant on a golden pedestal for millennia lights itself. The flame being emitted is vibrant purple. We all look at each other, the worry clear on everyone’s face. “Okay, sisters. You two summon her. I’ll go find Cora. She and Dante were last seen in Nepal, so I will start there. Wish me luck,” I say firmly.