Under The Sea

Chapter Thirty-One

Aran

The punch was swift but painful. Jacin's fist flew through the air and landed onto my jaw causing pain to erupt and spread over my face.

"We have to get get her back! How could you do that to her?" He was angry, but when I looked into his eyes I saw paranoia and panic disguised by anger. We were one in the same when it came to Forest; protective.

Forest was gone, and I was to blame. She was running away from me. I hurt her. I fucked up. Jacin had screamed it a million times, and when he came at me with his fists and his fury, I let him, because I knew I had messed up, and I wanted to be punished for it. I never thought the fates would make my punishment this painful. Losing her was like losing a limb; so painful and gut wrenching that you couldn't do anything but wish that the wound would heal. It was a painful reminder of the night my sister had died, but this time it was different. Instead of Forest dying slowly in a hospital bed before me, she was just gone. She could be dead, or alive, or dying, the worst part was that I couldn't tell which one it was, and that's why this was worse than Dawn's death. There was a constant paranoia eating away at my insides, and I hated it.

"Aran! Get your head out of your ass, we need to find her, now. She could be in pain, or already dead." Now the panic shined brightly in his eyes, and it was enough to snap me out of my stupor.

"Her scent might still be in the forest, maybe it'll be strong enough to track, let's go." Thea and the Queen would stay behind, both were upset and distraught.

The guilt and regret had built to the point where I felt as if I would explode. I had gotten no sleep last night, knowing that Forest was out there, with Mason no doubt, who was doing God knows what to her.

I would do anything to have her back in my arms.

Forest

The metal of the chair was cool against my hot skin. I could hear the blood rushing in my head as I lifted my chin and looked around drowsily. It seemed that I was in a cell, with no windows and one tough looking metal door. The walls were also metal and steely, much like the chair I was chained to. The ceiling, however, was wood. Possibilities ran through my head; I could be under ground, perhaps under a wooden house somewhere in the woods, I was most likely out of the Pack territory and away from the ocean. In fact I knew the ocean wasn't near; I could neither sense the comfort beat of the wave against the shore, nor hear it's comforting lullaby.

I felt utterly alone, and so, I started to cry; warm plump tears. It seemed I had been doing a lot of that lately. The spot on my head where Mason had hit me was throbbing in tune with the beat of my heart, and I felt as if I had been beaten; sore and weak. I quieted my cries when I heard foot steps quickly followed by the jingling of keys outside my door.

The infamous Mason entered, shutting the door behind him, he wore the same smirk he did when he found me, and I found myself wanting to carve that smirk right off of his face. His expression turned sad with sarcasm when he took in my tear-stained face. My eyes glared daggers into his, as I discreetly started to notice everything he was.

Mason was a very dark man, not much older than Aran. His expression was always dark and secluded, as if he were trying to hide a secret. A naive girl might mistake him as a troubled boy who needed to be saved with a love only she could provide; a boy who needed saving, but any adult would be wary and intimidated when near him, not because he was tall or scary looking, but because he looked as if he hated the world. As if he wanted everyone to suffer. Perhaps after hearing all his talk about world domination and whatnot, one might confuse him with a confused boy that held hopes and dreams that were impossible to achieve.