“Hey, Abby,” Kaleb says. “What do you think about leaving the den for a while and coming home with us. It would be great to-”
“Yes!” I shout, interrupting him, “Absolutely, let’s go.”
“Right. Well, I thought we’d leave soon, but not tonight.”
“Tonight, works for me, guys. Right the fuck now works for me.” I jump up from the bed nearly knocking over my tray in my haste to get to my closet. I spring to a shelf in my closet pulling down a duffel bag.
“Abby, what are you doing?” Shaun calls to me.
I don’t answer. I just run over to my dresser and start throwing clothes in it.
“Abby!” Kaden yells, coming to me at the dresser and shaking me. “What are you doing?”
“I lied … I lied to you guys, okay; it wasn’t just threats.”
“What do you mean?”
“They made me watch. I watched while the tortured Ronnie, taunted Chey, and made promises to do to worse to us.”
The room goes silent; the only sounds are my rapid breaths as I try to stave off the feelings attempting to swallow me.
“I lied because I thought I could pretend the rest of it didn’t happen. I didn’t want you all to be upset, and I want to forget that I couldn’t save her. I failed as an alpha. They tortured all of us down there.”
My mind goes back to that dank dungeon, pulling me back to that place where Nathaniel ripped out a chunk of my soul. I never quite understood what it was like for an alpha to watch someone in their pack get hurt when you’re powerless to stop it. I would have gladly volunteered myself up for more beatings to save them, but in the end, they wrecked us all in some way or another. I want to block it all out so that I can be strong for my pack, but the memory of the horror we endured sings its battle cry and forces me to relive it.
It has been an hour, a day, or three. I’m not sure of the time, but Ronnie is ‘resting’ which means Bradley and some other nameless asses are taunting us.
“We have a surprise for you bitches,” Brad drawls. “I know this cell must be so boring, so I thought, why not provide you some entertainment?” He sounds too excited about this, and I know I’m not going to like the show he’s about to put on for us.
“Come on, guys. Bring it over here, right in front of the cage. I want them to get the full impact.”
The scraping of something sliding across the floor has me feeling uneasy, and I see an X-shaped item being moved in front of the bars of the cage holding Chey and myself. We stare at each other, and I can see the question in her eyes, but I shake my head. I don’t want to think about what’s coming.
I glance at the piece of torture equipment that’s now in front of us. It is stained dark in places and glossy red in others.
`Blood, oh fuck. It’s blood.`
Some are fresh and some old, already crusted and flaking. I swallow as emotion clogs my throat. I can’t imagine how many women have been tortured on that device to stain it so deeply, but it was a lot. There are very few parts of it that still maintain the original oak color. I have an idea what is coming, but when the chains sliding across the floor began to announce her arrival, I know.
“They’re gonna torture her in front of us,” I breathe, and Chey’s eyes overflow with tears. Her gentle spirit doesn’t even need to see this; just the idea is enough for her to start crying.
“Shhh, honey, stop crying. Be strong.” The slithering of chains across hard concrete has stopped, and Ronnie stands before us naked and bleeding. Her dark hair is matted, and I can only see one of her honey-colored eyes because the other is swollen shut. I begin to feel nauseous, but the bruises aren’t what has me turning my head to vomit—it’s the lacerations covering her everywhere that are in various stages of healing. Dried blood has made tracks down her legs, and I gag. Even her vagina has been brutalized. Some of the cuts covering her are clearly infected and oozing fluid or pus. I chance a look into her eyes and see … remorse?
She’s sorry.
I find my voice, clearing it before speaking and infusing as much strength in it as I can.
“Veronica, I am so sorry for what they’ve put you through.”
“No.” she croaks, “Don’t. I betrayed our pack. Don’t apologize for this, and don’t forgive me.”
“That was before I healed you, and we both know it, so I do forgive you. And I will avenge you.”
I want to give her more words of encouragement, but a door opens and slams, cutting off our conversation as someone comes down the stairs. Bradley exits for a moment and comes back into the room with a menacing-looking red and black whip curled around his hand. He unwinds it then flicks his wrists. I can’t help but jump at the crack of the whip when it splits the air with an ear-piercing sound.
“Hello, my little pain slut,” he grabs Ronnie around her neck and forces her to her knees, “Why don’t you suck my cock and show your future alpha what a good little girl you are?”
He unzips his jeans and pulls his cock out. I clench my jaw in anger as I watch him shove her roughly onto it. She gags, but he keeps going, cutting off her air until the last possible second. When he releases the back of her head, she gags again while gasping for air. She refuses to meet my eyes after that. I can practically feel the heat of her rage at the indignity warming the room. He laughs,
“Oh, you are delicious. I am definitely going to keep you when I’m done with Chey. Come on. I’m sorry that we don’t have any more time to play. Let’s get you ready for my alpha.”
He yanks her off her knees and turns her to face the cross. I involuntarily gasp when I take in the sight of her back. Deep gashes crisscross it from top to bottom, some barely healed, some still weeping. Bradley locks her wrists and ankles to the cross with a pair of leather cuffs and stands to the side waiting. Minutes pass by before Nathaniel saunters into the room leering at Chey and me. Then it begins. I watch in agony as he beats her bloody. The blood from the strokes of his cane flying backward and covering his shirt and face, the floor, and anything near his play area, including me. With each backstroke, drops of blood speckle Chey and I, to our dismay. Brad adds an extra layer of sadism by literally rubbing salt into her wounds while Nathaniel catches his breath in between beatings. Cheyenne stops speaking ten minutes into the torture session. She stops reacting at all after fifteen. After thirty minutes, she looks like she is in a trance. She just stares blankly ahead, barely blinking in a catatonic-like state.
I watch the whole time, even after Ronnie passes out. He continues to beat her, so lost in his frenzy that he doesn’t notice she isn’t reacting anymore. I will not leave my packmate alone, so I endure his sadistic game, even when she cannot. It is literally the most I can do. Finally, it ends, and I let out an unsteady breath. I vomited all over myself at some point and bit my lips so hard they’re bleeding. I know that the pain I feel is minimal in comparison.
“Let’s go, she’s done,” Nathaniel says. “I overdid it, damn it. I can’t even fuck her this time; it’s not as much fun when they’re unconscious. Let’s go find someone else to take care of us.” He ogles me, “I cannot wait until I get you on this cross.” With one final sneer, he leaves the room.
I listen intently for the sound of the door opening and closing and breathe a sigh of relief when it does. When I hear the door reopen a while later, a whimper builds in my throat, but it’s not Bradley or Nathaniel who enter the room. I watch as a tall black man gently releases Ronnie from her bonds and lets her down. He rinses her wounds with water and rubs an ointment into them with so much care; it makes me ache for my guys.
“Who are you?” I finally ask. This man is taking care of Ronnie like a man would his lover.
“Deon,” he says and looks at me fully. There is so much pain in his eyes; it takes me back a moment. “I am so sorry about everything that is happening here. Please know I am working on a way to get all of you out.”
He holds a bottle of water to her lips and coaxes her to take a few sips.
“When I
get you out of here, I’m coming with you,” he states firmly.
“I don’t think so,” I reply.
“I’m coming. Look, I have my reasons, and I will not leave her.”
“You’re so fucked if you think Ronnie will want you anywhere near her. If you want to help, you should stay here and do what you can to bring them down from the inside.”
“I will slit their throats,” his voice starts increasing.
“No!” I shout out, as magic stars to funnel through me violently; I can feel it battling the cuffs meant to dampen my power.
“Nathaniel is mine,” I say with finality.
Taking a deep breath after reliving all of that, I’m a bit shaky, but I try to wrap up as quickly as possible. “And then Deon took her away, and Kevin came down not long afterward and left the key with me. I broke out and freed Chey, and you know how the rest went.”
Finally finished, I refuse to meet their eyes. I know what I’ll see there, and I can’t handle it. I feel like spun sugar, beautiful to look at, but fragile and easily broken. It’s uncomfortable as fuck, but I decide to give myself a break. It would be impossible to come out of an ordeal like that without a few new scars.
“I am so glad you told us everything, princess,” Justin says, “and you’re wrong if you think any of us would judge you.”
“Can you understand why I need some time away? I can’t handle my mother staring at me, or anyone coddling me. Well, anyone but you all. I’m not ready to tell the pack what actually transpired.” I let the pleading in my voice bleed through and don’t even feel shame for it. These are my mates.
“I understand your desire to leave, Abby, so I’ll get the car ready, and we’ll leave tonight.” Shaun stands from where he had perched on my bed during my story and pulls his phone out of his pocket.
“I’ll call my father and let him know we’re coming home for a few days.”
“Actually, I think we should stay closer to Abby’s pack. Do you have any places here that are secluded enough for a getaway?” Justin counters.
“Sure, we have some places at the outer edges of our property, but the whole point is to get away. Isn’t it?” I ask.
“We’ll tell everyone that we’re going away, but I think meeting all of our families and the entire clan right now could be a bit overwhelming.”
I want to argue, but he’s right. Just the idea of it sounds exhausting, so I nod my head once in agreement.
“Before we leave, I need to see Ronnie and Chey.”
“Whatever you need. We’re here for you, gorgeous.”
“Thank you, Kaden. I appreciate all of you so much.”
“Why don’t you rest while we get everything ready? And, um … if you’re good with it, I’d like to hold you. Please?” Marcus asks the words softly, but with confidence.
My eyes must mirror my shock because he answers my unasked question.
“We almost lost you, but you were under my protection, so don’t be surprised if I don’t let you out of my sight for a while.”
“You know what?” I say with a small grin, “ I’m totally okay with that.”
I’m able to give Chey a fierce hug and explain that I’m going away for a few days before we leave. She looks so much better already surrounded by her men. I know her parents will be here soon, and they’ll probably take some time away from the pack to help her recover until the ceremony. Seeing Ronnie is much harder for me. She’s clean now, but it only serves to emphasize the extent of abuse she endured. I feel my wolf rise as I stare down at her. The bruises all over her face and exposed raw flesh bring my magic closer to the surface as feelings of rage and remorse wash over me. I squeeze her hand and vow that I will get revenge for her. Somehow, I will get revenge for all of us.
Chapter Twenty-One
Megan
I watch Abby run from the room, tears streaming down her face. Knowing my coldness toward her started it, causes the veil that shrouds me to lift. Shame and worry seep into my being.
While my actions are perfectly acceptable for an alpha, they’re cruel for a mother. I should have let Sacha attend to her wounds. I should have let her wash the blood and grime from her battered body. A crushing pain slithers across me, a warning of what’s coming. I dismiss the lieutenants from the room. Abby’s men have followed her out already, so I make my way to my study. My steps quicken as the pain nearly debilitates me.
Shutting the door softly, I press my back against the cool, hard surface, breathing deeply to steady myself. When my breaths refuse to return to normal, I rush toward my desk and locate the special compartment hidden in the elaborate scrollwork. My hands find a familiar small vial, and I suck the contents down quickly.
After waiting the excruciatingly long moments for the tonic to kick in, finally, the air in my lungs stops seizing. I sigh in relief as the pain that was beginning to paralyze me crawls back under the veil of fog I live in. I take a look at the box, also in the hidden drawer, and hastily check my supplies.
Shit, I’m running low on elderflower, morning dew, and Queen of the Night. The night-blooming flower of our namesake blooms only once a year. I’ll have to send Sacha on another supply run.
The potion is necessary to keep the pain away. Not just the pain from being away from one of my mates, but from actively choosing to deny another. I stare at the last drops of the crimson liquid in the bottle; I’ve told my daughter that there is truth to the rumor of an alpha’s power being linked to the number of mates they have. In comparison to my daughter’s bevy of men, two mates are a paltry number in most packs.
However, when one mate is an Elder, the power dynamics get a bit fuzzy. Only Sacha knows the truth of who Abby’s father is. No one else needs to know; it would only complicate things for her. This elixir is the only thing that keeps me going. Once, when Abby was about five, I tried to stop taking it. It had been years since I left David, and I thought surely it wasn’t necessary any longer. But after lying in bed for two weeks with the “flu,” Sacha told me that it wasn’t working, and I needed to get back on the juice.
At least once a day I have to drink the potion, or my soul will literally tear in two. I have one other option; I can go to my other mate. He can help ease my pain, but at this point, he would probably kill me. I have never understood why my wolf chose him.
My other mate. Just thinking the words makes me want to gag. The feeling is uncontrollable whenever I think about him. Nathaniel. Fucking. Samuelson.
The night he tried to kidnap me, I’d been sick with grief. I’d just left the Temple of Elders after months of Bonding with David, and my life was forever changed. I had found my mate and then lost him, and I thought I’d lost the child we had made as well.
The High Priestess made me an offer that would fulfill my dream to be a mother and at the same time would provide the future alpha of our pack. At the time, the agreement had seemed so simple. Drink a potion to “mimic” a Claiming, and Bond with David, one of the few male Elders. His power would ensure a strong, fated alpha would be born; one who could help bring the birth rates of shifters up. A potion like the one they mentioned was supposed to be impossible, but if anyone had found a way to make one, it would be the Elders. Therefore I didn’t question its existence.
Powerless to stop it, I’m sucked into the memory …
“Why would you agree to this?” I ask the Elders sitting before me.
The High Priestess shrugs her shoulders. “Well, if you must know, in bringing your population up, we’ll also enhance our own powers, and why wouldn’t we want more power?”
Her explanations seem plausible, so I agree. David stands before me, and together we drain the Emerald tonic that will mimic a Claiming. In the months to follow, it felt like an honest-to-goodness fairytale. I fell in love with him, and I thought he felt the same. I truly thought he had come to care for me.
I’m overjoyed when the midwife confirms my pregnancy. Delight fills me from the new life quickening inside of me. I run to tell him, a sm
ile shining on my face when I spot him in the corridor. I flag him down, hugging his body to mine.
“I am so happy,” I exclaim, pulling back to grab his hands and press them to my stomach.
“We did it. We’re pregnant!”
For a brief moment I see a flash of happiness that mirrors my own in his eyes, but then he shuts down. Instead of adding to my happiness with his own, he merely nods.
“I’ll report this to the High Priestess at once,” he replies in a curt tone and turns on his heel to leave.
The door to our mental connection snaps closed at the same moment, and I fall to my knees as crushing grief hits me like a tsunami.
Those moments were the beginning of the soul-wrenching pain that is now my constant companion. He is my everything, and I’m certain we deserve a future together along with our child. I’m not prepared to throw it all away, so like some weak, pathetic nothing. I forget myself and run after him, desperate in my need to convince him that our feelings are real. I beg him to run away with me and give up his position on the council so we can raise our child together instead.
“This is a lie, Megan. A fantasy. We drank a potion so you could get pregnant, and that’s it,” grabbing my shoulders, he shakes me, searing me with his eyes. His words are bearing down like a weight on my already breaking heart.
“There is nothing else here for you. Nothing! Do you hear me? Leave. My part is finished.” He shoves me away so hard I stumble, righting myself at the last moment, as I cradle the tiny spark of life inside of me. Crystal shards form in my heart, piercing it and building an impenetrable wall around it in that instant. After a few moments, I pull myself together and walk into the room of Elders. David sits in his seat to the right of the High Priestess with a look colder than a frozen tundra.
“Megan, I have taken the antidote for our fake Bonding,” the words slice deep, but I refuse to show them how wrecked and bloody I am on the inside. With our Bond now closed, I know he won’t be eavesdropping on my thoughts either, and I thank the goddess for that small favor.
Blood Moon Magic Page 24