The Delta's Daughter Chapter 280

TAWNY

“…And I missed this?” I stand, crossing the room knowing that the presence of shock on my face is still fully on display, and hug Tristan. “I’m happy for you, truly, but…”

“I understand your hesitation, princess. I’m sure you are wondering what this means for you and Sir Crimson,” Tristan says while returning my hug.

I let go of him and take a step back, my hands wiping down my pants. I shake my head, “No,” I say slowly “Actually, I was wondering what this meant for you.”

I sit back down on the couch in the parlor room where I met up with Tristan who had just confessed that Gillian was his mate. His second chance mate. He had already told me how he lost his wife and children many moons ago to a boating accident. My heart had bled for him and now my heart leaped for him. He was a kind man, in so many ways he reminded me of Hunji, smart, patient, and wise.

What was really plaguing my mind was the contract between Gillian and Crimson. I didn’t want Tristan to miss his chance at a second chance. Only part of me doubted that Gillian would reject him. But now that Tristan had posed the question and planted the seed, I could help but wonder what this meant for Kolby Crimson and me.

I didn’t have a chance to dwell on it for too long when Crimson and Gillian walked into the parlor room – hand in hand. Juniper growled in my head at their display of affection. Their hands dropped as soon as they were through the doorway. Breaking from each other’s sides, Gillian immediately sidled up to Tristan’s side giving him a warming smile and her hand comes up to caress his bicep.

Crimson stands to the side of the couch I am seated on and gives me a longing look but doesn’t dare come any closer. Even though I rejected him, my feline still pines for him, and her low growl of jealousy turns into an aching purr as her mate stans closer to us, looking fine in the white dress shirt and black pants. Muscles straining against the fabric.

My eyes lowered to the front of his pants, remembering the look of his hardened cock and how I desperately wished to taste him. I had come so close to dropping to my knees and opening my mouth to take him. I’m a stubborn girl if anything and willed myself to stay in control.

I was sure he was going to reject me that night. I was still waiting for it in all honesty, but that couldn’t deter my eyes from appreciating the fine specimen of a shifter in front of me.

“Why don’t we all take a seat,” Crimson gestures to the couch opposite me. Gillian and Tristan take a seat, arms wrapped around each other looking comfortable and dare I say… happy.

Crimson plants himself on the same couch as me, but unlike the mates across from us, there is a noticeable distance between us. One I wish he would close up. Maybe there was still a chance for us?

Crimson carries on, “During the past few months, and more recently, this palace has been in turbulence. Because of us.” I couldn’t disagree. My presence has caused a rift between Crimson and Gillian and now Tristan being mated to her has complicated things even more so. “Gillian and I are bounded by a blood contract for the next five months. The contract states that while we are to stay engaged for the duration of a year, we are to act as a chosen couple and perform the… duties as a mated pair should.” He clears his throat, as uncomfortable talking about it as we all are hearing it.

“Now we find ourselves in compromising positions.” Tristan opens his mouth to speak but Crimson holds his hand up, “I have no intentions of trying to come between your mate bond,” He says to Tristan with a hard stare and then glances at Gillian giving her a lopsided smile, his eyes softening to his fiancée.

“But we, Kolby and I need to maintain our relationship for appearance’s sake.” Gillian blows out a breath and I watch with jealousy as Tristan rubs her back, making small comforting circles that she leans into. “My father is a controlling narcissist, he would love nothing better than to place himself on that throne. He can’t win the throne by challenging Tawny or Kolby, but if can find a reason to overthrow either of them for the throne. He will” She explains to Tristan, who listens thoughtfully.

“If our contract is broken before the year is up, he could, and probably would challenge my claim to the throne.” Crimson elaborates on Gillian’s explanation, “It would be easy for him to overthrow Tawny, whether she is the rightful heir or not. She has no husband, and our laws state a queen cannot be crowned without marriage.” He looks at me with sadness and guilt and I turn my head, hiding my own heartache.

“And from what I understand, at the end of your contract,” Tristan says his words directed at Crimson, “You and the princess, under normal circumstances, would have to fight for the right of the throne because you were named successor and Princess Tawny was born a successor?”

“Correct,” Crimson blows out a deep breath, swiping a hand down his face and palming the back of his neck.

“But you are mates?” Tristan cocks a pale eyebrow in question.

“Were,” I say quickly, not wanting to linger on the subject and dredge up the fact that he didn’t want me, and I already rejected him.

“My father has the backing of many Lords in this kingdom, and if he was to find out and kick up a fuss, potentially we could have a civil war on our hands.” Gillian croaks out, her eyes flitting from me to Crimson.

“She’s not wrong, Lord Maydor could very well put the kingdom at risk and this kingdom has seen enough bloodshed. The citizens don’t need to be dragged into another useless and unnecessary war.” Crimson adds.

My eyebrows pinch together and my lips purse, “Not necessarily,” I say and turn to Gillian. My eyes holding hers with serious intent “When you and Crimson came back from your trip, Your father had come to see me. Of course, he reluctantly spoke to me. Wanted that Tomcat, Tomislav to be given a ranked position. I told Crimson that day I said no, but it was during that meeting with your father that he confessed that Tomislav was his bastard son. It seemed like he wasn’t too keen on people knowing that little fact.” I pause, my next words were cautious and thoughtful. “Is there a way we can use that against him?”

“I still can’t believe I have a brother!” Gillian exclaims, slightly excited and very ruffled.

“There might be a way,” Tristan adds. “It would also make sense why he had this werecat challenge you, princess. Because if he had won, this Lord Maydor would have had an opening to the throne. It would also make sense why he kept the boy a secret.”

“If he truly is his son,” Crimson points out and we all hum and nod our heads. “We should keep a closer eye on him, there may be a hidden agenda there.”

“I propose, Sir Crimson and Lady Gillian, pretend to still be invested in their engagement for the time being.” I see Gillian ready to protest Tristan’s idea until he speaks again “For now - until we can find a better solution. Behind closed doors, it’s just you and I beautiful,” He smiles at her seductively. “I trust Gillian to not betray the mate bond and… I trust Crimson to not try and take advantage,” He gives Crimson a hardened stare, one with warning behind it.

“You have my word Sir; I will not be laying a hand on your mate,” Crimson replies with hardened words.

I wait, and wait, for anyone, a certain someone to address my bond with Crimson. When nothing comes from him or anyone else in the room, I know. Even if his choice has been taken from him, he still doesn’t want me.

And here I am, here my feline is, pinning for him, for his touch. For words of comfort. But the words will never come. I want to hear him say he wants me.

I’m only fooling myself I know this, so I do the only thing I can. Because fuck if I was going to sit here while his fiancée and her mate cozy up like everything is hunky-dory, while I sit here feeling more rejected than ever.

“That’s great!” I stand, wired with nerves and agitation “At the end of the engagement contract, Crimson and I will compete for the throne. Unless I find a chosen mate before then.” I smile when I see the look of pure anger mixed with despair in Crimson’s eyes.

The smile fades when he still doesn’t say anything. And my triumphant glee diminishes when I realize, trying to get a reaction from him was pointless. Sure, he looked mad as heck, but he kept silent. Not. One Fucking. Word.

Disappointment flooded through me. I wasn’t even sure why I had held out hope that he would change his mind and claim me. I would rescind my rejection in a heartbeat if it was the case. Sadly, it wasn’t.

*****

CRIMSON

That went better than expected.

I wanted nothing more than to take Tawny in my arms and lavish her with kisses and affection, to tell her we could be together, that’s this is what I was hoping for when I asked her to wait for me. When she made no move to even look at me, I was unsure.

When she said we would compete for the throne at the end of my and Gillian’s contract – my heart dropped. Sinking down to the pit of my stomach and drowning in the thoughts of hope I had.

She didn’t want me. It was already over between us. I had ruined any chance I ever had and would have ever had with her.

I wanted to scream and shout at her to not give up on me, on us. But I couldn’t form the words. They sat there logged in my throat, thick and suffocating making me dizzy with sickness.

I could never fight her. I would rather die.

I already knew if it came to it, I would concede the challenge. However, the thought of her with another male, a king by her side other than me was devastating. I didn’t know if anyone could read the turmoil of despair on my face, I was hoping I had hidden it well.

My kitten was a complex werecat, unlike Gillian who wore her heart on her sleeve and I always knew what was on her mind. Tawny, was harder to read so I took what she said at face value.

I knew, whether I wanted to admit it or not, that I had to let her go. I couldn’t force her to be with me. I certainly couldn’t force her to love me. Could I?

The thought was promising – hopeful even, but unrealistic.

Throughout our meeting, I watched as she nervously played with her grandfather’s ring. Twirling and rubbing it with her dainty fingers and polished nails.

The ring, called to me, a low pulse of a thrum, naked to the human and shifters ears - But a sound that I felt deep in my veins like the beat of my heart.

The few times I had held it, it sent a tingle throughout my body, a rippling effect that vibrated in each and every muscle. The vibration of the thrum made my skin ripple. Like a chameleon, my skin would flit from caramel brown to deep red, from fur, back to skin.

It was safe to say I was drawn to that ring, and it to me.

I could see the cloudy swirl of tiny diamonds in its center when Tawny fingered the stone. I wondered if she too could feel its magic. If like me, she could sense it and hear it?

***FLASHBACK***

CRIMSON 11 YEARS OLD

“Ouch!” I whined when Papa Armand pricked me again. Squeezing the tip of my finger over the small vile.

“Don’t be a baby,” He mocked me. “You heal faster than any shifter I have ever heard of,” He says, looking at me with accusation.

“But it hurts Papa Armand!” I declare with resolution.

“Only for a second boy, see all done now.” He caps the vile and ruffles my hair, giving me a warm smile and pat. I look at my finger where he had nicked again. Every Sunday like clockwork he would take blood from me. What he did with it, I had no idea.

“Now,” He says, his patience still intact “Do you know what this is?” He asks, taking off his ring and holding it out in front of me.

“The royal ring, sir,” I reply. Countless times he had told me how special his ring was, that it held magic powers and only a true king could unlock those powers.

“Yes, it is. Passed down in my family for generations. One day this ring will be yours.” He shoves it towards me, offering for me to take it. “Try it on, boy” He encourages.

The ring was beautiful. The band is wide and gold with engraved details that lead up to the setting. The stone was big and heavy, a bright and brilliant blue. I slid the ring on my finger, it was way too big for my small adolescent hands but it felt right.

I traced the smooth face of the blue stone with my fingertip and watched as the stone came to life. A smokey twisting pool of silver flecks brimmed and surfaced. My eyes lit up and looked at Papa Armand.

“Is it magic?” I asked astonished.

“What do you feel Kolby?” He asked me.

Looking back, I thought nothing of it, but as time went on I understood it.

“It makes me feel good, strong,” I reply.

“Can you feel the magic?”

My brows creased, “I don’t know.” I admitted.

He took it off my finger. Immediately the sensation of being more disappeared. I scowled at the loss of the way the ring made me feel.

“Now concentrate.” Papa Armand said and placed the ring back on my finger. “Now tell me, son, what do you feel?”

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the silence around us, concentrated on the way the heavy and too big ring felt on my small hand “It sings to me.” I tell him as a steady beat fills my body, not quite in tune with the beat of my heart.

“How so?” He asks.

“Like a tuning fork,” I describe, “As if it vibrates through my body but with… melody?” I say unsure of how to describe exactly what I feel.

“Good, good,” He says in low key.

I open my eyes when I feel him slip the ring from my finger. He examines it and I notice the magical swirl has disappeared, leaving the smooth shiny face of the stone again. “Why does it do that?” I ask him.

“Does what?” He replies without looking at me, his attention still on the ring.

“Why does the magic dust disappear?”

He chuckles. “Only special people, like you can make them appear. That’s how you know you are worthy to become the next king, son.” He smiles at me again, with so much love in his eyes. “You are very special Kolby, one day we may just find out how special. Until then, we don’t want anyone to know what a special bot you are. We must keep it a secret.”

“Why though?” My young brain not allowing me to understand why I had to keep my shifting a secret.

“Because others wouldn’t understand. They would see you as different and many shifters don’t welcome different.”

That was the thing, Papa Armand always told me I was special - rare. Just like his ring. Yet he said others would see me as different and may be afraid of my difference. They might not love me as he did.

***END FLASHBACK***

Years later, he explained the history of the ring, that it had allegedly been forged by magic and only those who could sense magic would be worthy of it. That the ring was as much drawn to me as I was to it. that’s why the swirls of silver only appeared for me.

I was baffled and with questions. When my kitten touched the stone it would come to life, just like it would under my fingers.

How? Why? Was she different in some way… like me?