The Delta's Daughter Chapter 273

TAWNY

“No!” I say loud and clear - my voice raising above the arguing males.

“Tawny,” Mason sighs, coming to stand in front of me. His hand reached up, palm cupping my face tenderly. “He is an unknown. You are skilled and strong but…”

He doesn’t have to finish the sentence. I get it. He’s a huge bastard, one hit from him and I could be knocked out, killed even. Then he would hold a position to be named the next King. “Worst-case scenario, he wins, then he will have to fight Crimson once his and Gillian’s contract has been fulfilled.” I look between Crimson and Gillian for clarification.

Crimson nods, defeatedly “That is correct. But Princess, you can rescind your acceptance of the challenge. You can’t fight him.”

I rear back at his words. I am not weak. I will rescind nothing. “I will fight,” I say matter of fact. “Whether I fight and lose or dispute the challenge – the outcome will be the same. I will not lose.” I hope.

“But Tawny…”

“No ‘buts’, Mason. In battle, we don’t get to pick who we fight against. In battle all opponents are unknown. This is no different. I just have to fight smarter; I can’t rely on strength alone.” Mason brings me into his arms, and I watch Crimson turn away from us, his back ridged, his muscles tense.

I bury my face into Mason’s chest, breathing in his musky scent that calms my nerves. “Just have a stretcher waiting for me, yeah?” I try to make light-heart of the situation.

“I’m so sorry Tawny,” Gillian sobs “I don’t know why he is doing this,”

“It’s not your fault,” I tell her, my voice muffled by Mason’s chest and the sound of his erratic heart.

Ten minutes later, I’ve changed out of the light summer sundress I had been wearing into a pair of training shorts and a crop top. Standing at the edge of the grassy ring, Crimson and Mason flanked me on either side. Gillian at my back.

Wyvern advances to us and stands next to Crimson, “Good luck Princess,” he says. “I speak for the other contenders when I say we are rooting for you.”

Surprised I chance a glance in his direction. His face is impassive, showing no emotion.

“The warriors are behind you; they already see you as a leader” Crimson explains. “He’s big but slower than you. Stay on your toes. And for fucks sake stay out of reach.”

I take comfort in his words and advice. He knows I’m no pushover but as we all look at the challenger standing across the other side of the ring, Maydor and several other Lords by his side, I know I am out of my league. Way out of depth.

The whistle blows and I blow out a deep breath steadying my nerves and step into the ring. Glad that this ginormous werecat did not rush me.

We meet in the middle. The old Warrior stands between us.

“You may not deliver a fatal blow. You are permitted to fight in either form. A winner is declared by submission or knockout. There will be no time limit the fight ends when a winner is determined. Good luck, both.”

The old warrior steps away from us and as I wait for the whistle to blow again, I look up. And up and up. Holy shit this male is huge. Not as tall as crimson but built like Beta Mike, bulky and strong, arm muscles that could crush me. Hands that could squeeze the life out of me. Where the heck did Maydor find this guy? Who is he?

I step back, gulping.

Fight smart. Fight smart. I repeat to myself silently.

When the whistle blows, the were-beast luges for me, arms scooping to try and capture me. I jump out of the way, backing up out of reach.

I watch his feet, clumsy and ungraceful. I pull at the memory of every training session I had with Lamia and Hunji. The dude is about as big as Hunji, but I doubt he is as skilled and strong as my Hunji.

Fuck. He lunges for me again. This time with a closed fist. Yet again I jump out of the way. I need to assess him. Figure out how to take down the mountain of a werecat.

Grumbles and boos from the crowd are aimed at me because I’m not fighting just dodging. “Pretty princess” the beefy tomcat croons, “I’m going to eat you up and claim you.” He chuckles.

“You’re a werecat, not a big bad wolf” I reply in a snarky manner. He doesn’t get it, instead, he just hisses between his teeth.

“Submit and this can end now. You are obviously afraid to fight me. You are weak.” I flash pointed teeth at him, my claws coming out.

I will never be weak again. I am no longer that timid cowering girl. I can beat this asshole. I was trained by the best. I fought wolves and bears. I have killed.

My teeth poke into my bottom lip, my claws fully extended, sharp, and ready to tear into flesh. “Come get me, you big bastard” I taunt him backing up further until we are a good distance away.

He growls back at me, frustrated with the cat-and-mouse game I am playing with him. He charges toward me and I copycat him. Charging full force. His snarls are loud and intimidating. I remember what Hunji once said ‘the bigger they are, the harder they fall’

One hand reaches out, the other is cocked back into a tight fist. I drop my shoulders and lean back sliding between his wide stance. One claw reaches out and nicks the tendon of his ankle. He falters but doesn’t fall. I jump to my feet before he can turn and slam my bawled fist into an uppercut right between his legs.

Tomislav screeches in pain, cupping the balls I just pummeled. Still, he doesn’t fall.

“Bitch!” He seethes turning, eyes glowing bright with his tomcat.

I have angered the mountain of a man.

He moves fast, faster than I anticipated. A large clawed and furred paw grasps my arm. A gut punch has me doubling over pain and a woosh of sir expels from my lungs. His hit was precise and heavy. Damaging. Wrenching me from my feet and against his massive chest, he locks those beefy arms around me. He begins to squeeze.

All the air left in my lungs leaves my body as his vice-like grip strangles the life out of me. I gulp in as much air as possible, still trying to recover from the gut punch. My feet dangle off the floor as his hold lifts and suffocates me.

I know I’m in trouble when black dots begin to haze my vision. I refuse to go down so easily. Juniper, my feline paces and snarls, willing me to fight back – to not go down, to stay in the fight.

I struggle in his grasp, a sense of panic rearing up. I can’t black out.

I close my eyes and stop struggling. Willing my muscles to stop straining and fighting against him. Determination now driving me. I bow my head forward, grit my teeth, and when I feel his breath on the back of my neck, I slam my head back with as much force as I can give.

The smell of blood reaches my nose and the werecat’s arms loosen from around me, allowing me to slide down and out of his grasp.

I waste no time turning and again, delivering a blow to his balls. This time with a swift kick. While he is still dazed, one hand clutching between his legs, the other his nose which is pouring with blood, I spin. Jumping up and throat-chopping him with a closed fist. I come down hard and fast, clawing at major tendons, on his arms and legs - but not life-threatening injuries, just enough to incapacitate him for a while.

The behemoth werecat stumbles to his knees. Quickly I call on all the strength I can muster and deliver a crunching left uppercut to his jaw, following up with a roundhouse kick to his head.

The giant falls. Gasps and then silence is all that can be heard. The arena was in a state of shock at the tiny female who brought the monstrous male to his knees.

Suddenly cheers and clapping fill the silence as the spectators begin to applaud my show of strength and dominance.

I’m woozy from the fight, my body heavy and weak from being crushed.

I will not fall.

I stumble but strong arms wrap around me, holding me up.

The scent of cinnamon and baked bread seeps into every one of my senses and pores. Surprised that Crimson is the one holding me and not Mason; nevertheless, I lean against the strong, warm, and comforting male, drawing what I need from the one-sided bond.

In the background, I hear the old warrior announce me as the winner. I chance a glance backward. The werecat Tomislav is still lying unconscious in the ring. Maydor is already departing, leaving his false champion to bleed out on the grassy ground.

“Get him medical attention,” I manage to wheeze out the order to Wyvern who is also surrounding me. “I think I’ll take that stretcher now,” I say to no one in particular, in a lame attempt at a joke.

But it’s not a joke. As soon as we are far enough away from the training grounds, my legs give out and gasp for breath. The burning in my lungs and ribs makes me cough violently. I taste the blood on my tongue, and everything wobbles in a haze.

Crimson hooks his other arm under my legs, lifting me against him I purr into his broad chest finding that comforting heat again - right before I pass out.

*****

CRIMSON

I breathe in her nectarine scent, holding Tawny firmly against me, but not so firmly to cause her more damage. Soft purrs roll off her tongue in her sleeping state. A sign her feline is healing her injuries.

Two sets of eyes glare at me. One set an accusing glacier blue. The other is deep brown and threatening. I brush their looks of contempt from my mind, instead choosing to concentrate on the tiny form in my arms.

I underestimated this little were-kitty.

I knew she was skilled; I knew she could fight. But I honestly doubted her will and doubted she could win against a man of that size and caliber. I was wrong. So very wrong.

My kitty should never have been put in that position in the first place. But the laws are binding. As well as blinding. That was never a fair fight. Maydor had shown his hand and tipped his hat. He was gunning for Tawny.

Maydor thinks that if I become King and I take Gillian as my queen, he will have some kind of stronghold over the Kingdom. He couldn’t be farther from the truth. With tawny out of the way he thinks he can ensure his place at the top. Fear. That’s what it is. He fears that if Tawny is crowned at the end of my and Gillian’s contract – regardless of if we complete the mating or not, he will have no more influence over the kingdom.

He is a dirty player and always has been. But I didn’t expect him to stoop to this level of underhandedness. This is why he cannot find out Tawny claims I am here mate. What that would mean for Gillian, makes me shiver on her behalf.

He has no idea what I am, and I almost fucked up by showing him today. When Maydor announced that challenge all I saw was red. Though I do not feel a mate bond with my Kitty, like it has been described to me, I do feel an overwhelming sense of protection over her.

Watching Tawny defeat the werecat that was literally twice her size and more, had my chest puffing out. The fight itself had a whirlwind of emotions crashing through me all at once. Fear, pride, and anger, to name a few all ran amuck through my body.

I swear my heart stopped several times during that fight. When she took the punch to the gut, I thought that was it. When my little kitty recovered, standing back up only to be entrapped by his death grip – I can’t describe the feeling inside me. When she head-butted him and slipped out of his hold a new set of emotions began to run rampant.

That was the biggest and scariest emotional rollercoaster I have ever experienced. One I don’t want a repeat of. Ever again.

I deposit Tawny onto a bed in the medical wing of the warrior’s barracks. Mason and Gillian were right behind me.

Mason draws up next to her bed, opposite me. “Alpha Lamia is going to Kill us.” He says with a gravelly voice. I hold back the growl I want to send his way when his hand comes up and brushes the hair from her forehead.

When he leans down and places a kiss where he brushed the hair away, it takes everything I have to not snap my teeth at him. Don’t touch her! I want to shout.

But I can’t. Gillian is right beside me.

“She’s a freaking badass, the way she took down that werecat. Who is he? Where did he come from?” Gillian looks at Tawny’s exhausted body laying on the bed, asking the questions we all wanted to know.

“You have never seen him at your father’s estate before?” I ask. Maydor has his own large estate with his own security and guards. I hazarded a guess that the man who called himself Tomislav was one of his. But… Gillian would have recognized him, seen him before.

“No,” She shakes her head, a puzzled look on her face as if she was trying to recall a memory of him and coming up blank.

I roll my shoulders, cracking my neck. My Kitty’s sweet scent of nectarine becomes stronger the longer I stand next to her. “We leave for Riocht in five days. We need to be organized.” I turn from the sleeping beauty and cast an apologetic glance at Gillian and stroll to open the door to the medical ward.

I know what a fated mate bond is, and how it is meant to work. What I don’t understand is why I have this urge to wrap the princess up and keep her hidden away from the world. Each day it seems more impossible to suppress the protective feelings I have towards her.

Am I affected by the mate bond? But I have no spirit animal. It should be impossible. I push my feelings deep down as I make my way back to the palace.

The council and Lords agreed that we assist in the battle for Riocht. Not because they wanted to help, but because they would be the only kingdom out of the main four that didn’t. They saw gold and wealth by providing a fraction of our warriors. Their greed is what led them to agree. Not because they cared.

*****

Gillian strolled into our room, her footsteps light and airy. The long yellow, thin material of her dress swayed around her legs. The sheerness of it gave me a glimpse at her long legs hidden beneath. It had been weeks since I had touched her intimately.

After Tawny said she could feel it, a deep ache in her heart every time I made love to Gillian. I didn’t have the heart to cause her pain. But as Gillian brushed by me muttering something, my nostrils flared. Tawny’s scent was all over her, powerful and consuming. I reached out, snatching Gillian by the wrist, bringing her against my chest hard.

Inhaling the smell of the little kitty that erased Gillian’s own scent, my nose ran up her arm to the crook of her neck. I closed my eyes, but it wasn’t my fiancée I saw behind my lids. It was Tawny. Her dark, rich, and creamy skin, those bright yellow eyes, and puckered lips. I recalled the taste of my little kitty when I had fucked her with my fingers, tasting her release on my tongue.

It wasn’t enough. I want more.

My cock comes to life, hardening at the thought of impaling Tawny on it. Imagining the look of ecstasy that would grace her face as I filled her up.

Laying her on her back as I plunged into her. I could almost taste it, feel it. My vision… so real.

“Goddess yes, Kolby!” Gillian’s pleasurable cries have my eyes opening wide with surprise as my hips bucked into my fiancée.

I’m almost horrified that I hadn’t even known I was fucking Gillian. I plunged into her again with more force and screwed my eyes shut. Conjuring the image of Tawny again as I fucked Gillian relentlessly while thinking of another woman.

It was too late. I was too committed to the act to stop.

No matter how wrong it was. I would deal with my shame and guilt later.