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.
She’s leaning forward, giving him a kiss on the cheek, her eyes are squeezed shut 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 eye in the last
witch war. It was in a battle with an old hag, not Leticia.” “We went to the Elder Council, Katherine.
There is more to Bronx’s attack that was never published,” Tessa says in her harsh, raspy tone. She
pulls out papers with the Elder Council logo on the top and lets me read it.
It contains the information we already know about the attack, but also a description of the blade the
witch used. A n old omate silver blade. It sounds exactly like the one used to kill Cordell. I read it
several times, but the words on the paper don’t change. 1 I flip to the next page marked
‘CONFIDENTIAL’ in large red letters at the top. I look up at Tessa and Alexandros questioningly. The
Council never releases confidential 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 Cordell. H-has Leticia developed the ability to glamour?” “We don’t know, but
obviously, he wouldn’t have married lokaste if she matched the description of the witch who almost
murdered him,” Tessa drops her arms, seeing that I clearly didn’t know any o f the information from the
confidential page.
“More importantly, Bronx isn’t at full strength. 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. “Katherine, be safe,” Amari says, giving me a
loving hug. I feel healing energy gently being pushed into my spirit “Don’t worry, Amari,” I hug her back,
“Once the five of us are together, things will be fine.” Kas’s POV Holy crap. I know Bronx said he
wouldn’t take it easy on me, but how hard did we hit that mat? I can’t remember anything after that.
Every inch of my body is aching. How hard did he land on me? I open my eyes, but realize I still can’t
see anything, even with my wolf vision. The room is practically pitch black and I’m on a cold cement
floor. “Bronx?” I call out hesitantly. As my echo fades, silence fills the room. I sniff the air. Nothing
smells familiar. 1 Well, that can’t be good. “Lex? What happened? Where are we?” I ask, sitting up
gingerly. “I don’t know what happened. We were just sparring with our mate, then we woke up here.
Wherever here is,” she sounds like she’s on high alert. “Okay, well, it’s like James and Marco say, if we
think we’re in danger, keep moving. So let’s try to get out of here.” I can already feel her healing me as
I stand up, stretching my sore muscles. My eyes adjust to the darkness slightly.
The only light is coming from under the door on the far end. It is just enough to allow me to see that I’m
in the corner of a large room. There is a cot, but I’m sitting next to it, not on it. Other than that, there is
no furniture. Is this a dungeon? If it is, it’s the cleanest dungeon I have ever seen. I walk cautiously
toward the door when an unfamiliar woman’s voice mind links me. “Don’t try to leave, Iokaste. The door
is enchanted.” “Who’s there? How do you know my name?” I call out loud. Taking a defensive stance.
More importantly, how did someone outside my pack mind link me? “Darling, I know you can’t
remember, but if you could please just stop touching the enchanted door and listen, we can be done
with this childishness and I can explain,” the voice says, sounding somewhere between bored and
frustrated. I look at the door again. It looks ancient. Ornately carved and gouged with deep scratch
marks. My brain fights between going toward it and listening to what the voice has to say. “Lex,
decision by majority. What should I do?” “I don’t know what’s on the other side of the door or what
happens if you touch it, Kas. That woman’s voice sounds familiar somehow. I say we give her one
minute to explain and if it sounds like a load of crap, we bust out of here,” Lex advises. “All right, lady,
you’ve got one minute to explain,” I yell into the darkness. “Ah, so Elexis has finally talked some sense
into you,” the voice chuckles dryly. “Forty-five seconds!” I growl. How does she know my wolf’s name?
“Kas, we are your sisters. We brought you here to tell you the truth about who you are.” My body goes
numb for a moment. No freaking way. “What?” I whisper in disbelief.
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