The Delta's Daughter Chapter 289

CRIMSON

The feeling was bizarre. As we were led through the mansion, a home that was more modern that the first impressions of their compound – a stark contrast to the primitive image I had a glance of. I made a mental note of each exit and every person we pass; in case this was some kind of trick.

Less than four hours ago I was going to be executed and my kitten had almost been the victim of a forced claim. Now, they wanted to treat us like guests. Althea’s apology held no influence on me. Her words were weak and came from a place of fear. Actions speak louder than words in my book.

If it wasn’t for Tawny, I probably wouldn’t even be entertaining the idea of letting this Pride explain itself. I didn’t want to wipe out a race, but… If I had to, for my kitten, I would.

There was still so much Tawny and I needed to talk about. Here I am angry that they tried to force a claim on her when in reality, I did just that. My mark sitting on the mound of her left breast – just above her heart.

She will hate me for it.

My overactive mind and worries are calmed when I feel Tawny’s hand slip into mine, her fingers lacing through my much larger ones, and gripping me tightly. I look down at her and smile when I see she is already looking up at me, wearing a smile of her own that’s only for me.

I give her hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance. Silently telling her I got you.

*I got you too,* I balk when her voice filters through my head. The only other person to have ever been able to mentally connect with me was King Armand.

Tawny gives a lighthearted chuckle, and her smile widens. *You marked me, I can connect with you now.*

I shake my head at her, trying to tell her I don’t know how to mind-link, and again, she squeezes my fingers that are securely wrapped with hers and she winks at me.

Fuck this woman undoes me. Nothing will ever be the same again. At least she doesn’t hate me.

“I never hated you, Crimson.” My feet stutter and I almost trip over not realizing she can hear my thoughts. “You are mind-linking me without knowing it,” She laughs.

I didn’t know I could do that. Before I get the chance to reply to her, the woman who guided us through the mansion stops at a pair of large, wooden double doors. She opens both sides, wide and gestures for us to enter. “You find Lady Althea in here.” She says, giving Tawny a glance and then a short stare of fear directed toward me before quickly scampering away.

We enter a large study with several tables and chairs. Althea sits at one in the center of the room. A tray of small bite-sized food and a tea service I recognize as the same as King Armand’s personal set.

“Please come join me,” Althea stands and with one hand gestures to the chairs opposite her.

I lead tawny over to the table, but we don’t sit, opting to stand instead. I don’t want to give her the impression we are comfortable or trusting. Because we are far from being able to relax in the company of this Pride.

“We came for answers, not tea,” I state, not trying to hide my dislike of the white-haired woman, who claims to be Tawny’s grandmother. Although, looking at her in the light of day, and then at Tawny, I can see a slight resemblance. Not as much as Papa Armand, but they are there.

“Of course, of course.” Althea concedes, looking a little guilty. As she should. “As promised, I will tell you whatever you want to know. I’m just not sure where to begin,” She finishes with a sheepish look, her hands smoothing down the plain suede skirt of hers.

“Giving me my ring back would be a good place to start,” tawny chirps beside me. I tug her close to me, letting go of her hand but wrapping an arm around her waist.

Althea digs in the pocket of her skirt, producing the all the too familiar ring still on the chain of rope Tawny kept it on. She holds her hand out, offering it to Tawny who takes it quickly, slipping it over her head and laying her palm against it and her chest once it’s back where it belongs. A look of relief and contentment sits on my kitten’s face.

“You called me a Lyoki and Crimson a Grimalkin. Why don’t you start there and tell us how all this fits in with Senko, Orion, and Silas?” My kitten’s shoulders tense at the names she recalls, the now-dead enemies of Queen Lamia.

“Who is Senko?” I ask, not knowing that name, or what it means to Tawny.

Althea sighs rubbing her wrinkled forehead. “Senko is your father King Crimson,” The use of the title, threw me off, but I don’t hate it. “First, Lyoki is a term used for a werecat hybrid that carries wolf blood. Touched by magic is what they call it. As you are well aware, most hybrids are either one or the other or nothing – human. 'Lyoki’ carries the trait of both. Something that is only passed down through genetics. Your mother was part Lyoki, like me. We have wolf blood in us.

“My father is a werewolf,” Tawny tells her.

“So, your genetics are stronger, as is your feline. You also are a Phanton, the oldest line of werecat recorded. Descendants of the king jaguar. Your grandfather’s blood runs deep in your veins, this is why the ring reacts to you, it can sense your connection and the magic your bloodline has been touched with.”

“I was under the impression werelions were the oldest big cat shifters, and until now, we thought you had all been wiped out.”

A sad look crosses Althea’s face when Tawny questions her. “We are the oldest of Prides, and as far as we know… the last. I was mated to the Pride crowned prince, this is why I thought you and Arik would make a good mating.” Her eyes fall to the floor with shame. “I was wrong, I should never have-"

“Damn right you were wrong, even knowing my mate was your granddaughter, you still attempted to take her choice away?” I was getting angry, my skin rippling with waves of red and yellow. The urge to shift and end Althea’s life crept over me and rose to the surface, quickly dying when I felt Tawny’s tiny hand on my chest. Calming me instantly. “Tell me about me,” I breathe out, then back in gulping in my kitten’s sweet nectarine scent, before letting the breath out again.

“Alright. As I explained to my granddaughter, over twenty - twenty-six, years ago, Senko came to our village. He was not Pride, nor a werecat. The King allowed him to stay, and he fell in love with your mother. Senko was an alchemist. A blood alchemist and carried a dark power, that he had been forbidden to use in our kingdom. They tried for several years to conceive a child, but it seemed fruitless until he used his gift, and your mother Kiana, fell pregnant – with you.

“The king was not happy, but he looked the other way because his youngest daughter was happy. Within a matter of weeks of your mother falling pregnant, two strangers crossed our borders, A wolf and a Bear. With them they brought men.

“At first, they seemed trustworthy and excited that they had found Tolba. The king welcomed them. When they learned what Senko was, they became more interested in him, wanting to speak with him about his blood magic. This was when the king first became suspicious.

“Anyway, one event led to another, and Senko ended up leaving with the Wolfman and Bear King, to protect your mother and the Pride. You were born, and we knew you were different even then. Your eyes were a bright yellow and would flit to a deep red, but that wasn’t what made the Pride fear you. It was the crescent shape of your pupils.”

“Like the children?” Tawny gasps.

“Not exactly, I thought so too until… last night.” Altheas sighs and turns her back on us, “We thought you had died in the jungle when your mother ran with you, you were no older than four when they came for you. We found her body, but not yours. Figured the wilds had gotten you.”

“Came for me? Who came for me?” I stress the question, imploring her to answer. I knew nothing of who I was, or where I came from. This woman, Althea, she knew. She could tell me all the answers I had asked growing up. “Tell me,” I command.

Althea begins to pace, “Twenty years ago, the bear king, Orion, sent the wolfman back here, to look for you. The son of the Alchemist. They were also looking for something else. They told us Senko was dead - laughed when they said it too. The king made Kiana flee, with you.” She nods her head gesturing at me. “I never knew what you were, not until a year ago. And even then, I was wrong.”

Stopping her pacing, Althea turns to us, “Come with me, I want to show you something. It’s time.”

There was still so much I wanted to ask and craved to know. Tawny and I followed her as she led us to the back of the room and pulled at a book from a bookcase that covered the entirety of the wall. The book fell back into its place, a loud creek and groan came from the bookcase and a puff of air sounded as the bookcase opened and revealed a hidden door.

“That’s some neat shit,” Tawny whispered up at me. And I had to agree, it was pretty cool. I would never have known the hidden doorway existed, even if I was looking for it.

It made sense, that Silas the late Rouge King, and Orion the very dead Bear King, were interested in Senko. If truly did possess dark alchemy powers, they would sense it.

Althea talked as she led us down a dark set of stone stairs, winding further and further down. It was just the three of us and Althea poses no danger, still I kept alert and reached out for Tawny’s hand, wanting to keep her close.

“None of us had any idea this place was here until a year ago, when we were visited by an immortal who went by the name Ashe,” I had heard of this woman, the name familiar, but not a face I could connect it with. I seem to recall Tawny and Mason speaking of it once. “The library of the gods is what she called it when it was revealed to me.”

Althea reaches out to the wall, and something clicks a couple of times until a spark flares and sudden bursts of fire come to life along one side of the wall, revealing an enormous underground library.

Tawny gasps, and my mouth parts, in awe.

Rows upon rows of shelving fill the room, the walls filled with bookcases, and each shelf filled and organized with books that range in size and color. The place is clean, tidy - old.

To the left, at the front of the room (or more like a great hall), sits two leather wingback chairs with a table between them, nestled in front of an oversized fireplace. The place smells and reeks of ancient times. The atmosphere buzzes with magic that makes my skin tingle. My senses are highly aware of the power this room holds within it.

“When Ashe led me down here, it was then she informed me Senko was very much alive. That he had created a means by using his blood magic to manufacture a new race.” Althea walks down one of the many rows of shelves, stopping not even halfway, peering at the contents of the shelf before plucking a large, leatherbound, and worn-looking book and turning back to us. “This,” she says,” Is what I thought you were, what he had made.”

I look at the cover, in black, stamped ink the word Skinwalker, sits front and center. “Skinwalkers are myths, legends,” I say fingering the leather.

“They are, but as much as what you are.” I give Althea a puzzling look, urging her to explain. “Skinwalkers are ancient shifters, rare, made by the coupling of ancient magic and a god who can transform. The books tell us that a Skinwalker is only born once every thousand years. Even then it is rare for one to be conceived.”

Tawny takes the book from me, opening it she thumbs through the pages, and halts. Her eyes scanned the page she stopped on. “It says Skinwalkers have the ability to transform into any living creature animal or human?” She reads but ends the quote with a question and looks up at me.

“That’s not what I am,” I reply seeing her search my eyes for an answer, wondering if there is more to me than she has already seen.

“Quite right. At first, when one of our scouts saw you, that’s what we thought you were. The description he gave me, described what your father looked like.” Althea starts to walk again, and we follow like intrigued lost sheep. “We thought you were Senko-"

“Wouldn’t he look a lot older if he was this Senko?” Tawny asks,

“Not necessarily. You see with Senko’s ability to manipulate blood and his alchemy powers; he could have stayed looking youthful. Then, as I was explaining, when Ashe came, she told me of the children he had created. Innocent monsters that he been creating – manufacturing for years.”

“Oh, my goddess! The children?” I look at Tawny, whose hand covers her mouth in awareness.

“Children? They are Skinwalkers?”

“Yes and no. They do not possess the ability to take any form. They can only hold their true form and one other. Ashe gave us the location of the children - we found them in an abandoned warehouse on the edge of Lewe. In exchange for anonymity and a promise that our kingdom would rise again, we agreed to harbor the children.” A sad look engulfs Althea’s face and her shoulders fall. “The children… they are lucky if they live past their eighteenth birthday, some die much longer. We assume their short life span is because they were created by dark magic.”

“And me?” I ask taking a deep breath, ready for her explanation.

“You? You are a little more complicated. I had no idea what you were until a few hours ago, up until then, I was convinced you were Senko coming back to finish the job of the Rogue King.” She sits on the couch she led us to, nestled away in a dark corner of the library. Tawny takes a seat on the opposite end. I remain standing with my hand securely set on her shoulder.

“You are a Grimalkin, King Crimson. A folklore, a tale of mystic and old magic.” Her dark and piercing eyes land on mine from her seated position, hands folded in her lap.

Her eyes hold mine and the next words she speaks has my skin covered in goosebumps as an eerie chill rake over me. “An enigma. A creature of great and unlearned power. They say even the god’s magic would have no effect on you. You were born out of magic, dark power, and the pairing of a werecat.”

“A Grimalkin is supposedly a magical being, who has the ability to transform from human to feline. Can you take any shape of a cat? Big or small?”

I nod my head, “Yes,” I choke out. “I can take the form of any big cat and a small house cat. I sense magic, it calls to me. But I can take no other shape,” I confess and look at my little kitty for assurance.

A Grimalkin, I roll the thought around in my head, the first I have ever been able to name what I am.

“Did my grandfather know what he was?” I hear Tawny and even look down at her, her hand comes up to rest over mine, patting it with reassurance and letting the bond between us work its magic. “He raised Kolby, found him when he was young, in the jungle.” I let Tawny ask the questions that swim in my mind because I’m stupefied by the overload of information.

I know what I am, and where I came from. I’m not a nobody anymore. I had parents. A mother that loved me. A mother that didn’t throw me away but ran to protect me.

“I can’t say for sure, but it makes sense why we never found you all those years ago. Armand was a wise and smart man, It would not surprise me if he did know what you were, or if he had an inkling.” Althea stands again and gestures for Tawny to stand too, with a tilt of her head.

“Why did my mother run away with me?”

“Because the Rogue King came looking not only for you but something else. When we gave him none, he and his army of rogues killed the king and all his heirs, except for your mother and the unborn child of a mateless lioness his youngest son fathered. Arik. They believe the son of Senko is dead, as did we.”