Forever in the Past and Forever in the Future

Forever in the Past and Forever in the Future by Neener Beener chapter 1

Most people don’t even remember the packhouse has a dungeon. I do though. I have a little room in the back that used to be a solitary confinement cell. It smells of old piss, vomit, and blood. You get used to it. I have a cot and an old tattered blanket to keep me warm. I even scored a lamp out of the trash. It still works, so I have light to do my homework. Home sweet home and all that jazz, right? I mean, at least I’m not a rogue.

Oh yeah, I should introduce myself. My name is Iokaste Latmus, but I go by Kas. No one calls me Iokaste except for teachers on the first day of school. I’m a werewolf in the Silver Moon pack. Since I’m an orphan, I’m not

completely sure how old I am but pretty sure I’m sixteen. Also, I’m an omega which means I’m a servant. My job is to make the meals for the werewolves who live in the packhouse. Between making breakfast and dinner for over a hundred wolves, cleaning up after them, and

restocking the pantries of the ranked members’ apartments on the third and fourth floors, I do normal teenager stuff. Except, I don’t really have a lot of spare time to do normal teenager stuff. So homework, homework is the extent of my normal teenager stuff.

Right now, it’s eleven-thirty at night. I’m putting the finishing touches on my English essay when I hear the door of the dungeon slam open. Great. Now what did I do? It doesn’t take much. Alpha Graham Connors is an alcoholic. It’s really difficult for werewolves to get drunk,

which means you have to drink really heavily to feel the effects. Which means he probably had a fight with Luna Caroline about his drinking. Which means she locked him out of their room. Which means he has come down to take out his anger on me. Just an average Tuesday night in the packhouse.

The sharp smell of whiskey hits my nose well before he appears in front of my door. I know the drill. I’m already on my feet waiting for him.

Oh crap oh crap oh crap. I’m thinking in my mind.

“Alpha Graham, what can I do for you?” I ask with my eyes looking at the floor. I keep my hands clasped in front of me, trying to look as small as possible.

Without a word, a whiskey bottle whizzes past my ear and smashes against the wall above my cot. I flinch and can’t help but start to tremble and hug myself. We’re beyond ‘Oh crap’, we’re in ‘Oh shit’ territory now.

Whatever is about to happen it’s going to be worse than usual.

He lunges forward and grabs me by the throat with both hands. I feel tears coming to my eyes as the lack of oxygen turns the edges of my vision dark. I desperately claw at his hands, trying to escape his grip but it’s no

pitch black indicating his wolf Ruckus is

Without warning, he throws me across the room as if I weigh nothing. My body slams against the wall and I land on my back on the cot. The shards of the broken bottle pierce the skin on my back through my thin t-shirt. The whiskey makes the cuts burn. I try to muffle a scream as the pain sears through me. He comes across the room and picks me

can before throwing me to the ground. He kicks me in the gut and stomps on my back over and over. The glass bits are grinding deeper into my back. I can feel blood soaking through my shredded shirt. I don’t dare move and make him even madder. I feel my ribs snap when his foot makes contact. One of his kicks lands on my jaw. I feel a sickening snap. Rattle in

as his personal punching bag for years, but this was way more intense than it has ever been before. Usually, he slaps me a few times, then whips me until I’m bleeding and raw. In the past couple of years, he started

between the broken jaw and blood pouring out of my mouth. He abruptly stops and walks out of the room.

is dripping with wolfsbane.

with the glass shards still in my back, combined with the wolfbane is too

blurry and I black

didn’t get a chance to turn in that English essay. It was a good one too. The constant soft beeps are soothing. I don’t know how long I’ve been dead, but I feel

Maybe this is some sort

start to panic, making the beeps in the room become faster. Oh, I’m hooked up to a bunch of machines. I try to figure out how to unhook them so no one hears the noises. Too late, I

comes in with a nurse. The doctor is an older man. He has black hair that’s turning gray on the sides. The nurse is young with blond curly

He and the nurse come to either side of me and reach out to hold my arms. A deep

shaking them off. My voice is scratchy and

heal. Let’s get you back to bed

cup of water with a straw.

doctor sits in the chair beside the bed as the nurse checks my vitals and starts messing with the tubes and wires attached

back, we also had to reset some ribs, your

you could heal,” the doctor

last part, doc? I think to

Tate went to get you and found you on the ground in your…uh…room,” he looks at me