The Delta's Daughter Chapter 302

CRIMSON

The massive migraine was passing. The healer was able to give me something to calm my mind and help me to block all the invading voices. The medicine had knocked me out and I wasn’t aware of how long I had been sleeping.

Finally, my head felt clear and quiet. The sudden influx of thoughts from the kingdom's people was too much. It all came at once. Their prayers, their pleas, their silent promises to themselves. This was beyond just simple mind-linking.

“Crimson!” Gillian bursts into Tawny’s room. Chest heaving, face flushed eyes blown open wide with pure fear.

I stand from the bed quickly, almost too quickly. It's only then I hear the commotion of what sounds like a fight. “What’s going on Gillian?” I demand with a harsh voice, accompanied by a growl.

“Maydor and Lightfoot, they brought their troops… They have Tawny! Tristan went-"

I don’t let Gillian finish. Instead, I hurl myself through the window shattering the glass and shifting midair.

Landing on four paws. I dash around to the front of the Palace with inhuman speed, Down the gravel driveway, passing Tristan’s white leopard until I reach the fight that is taking place.

I let out a realm-shattering roar when I see my kitten being held off the ground – Lord Lightfoot’s claws sinking into her delicate skin. The scent of Nightshade permeates the air and see our warriors falling. One after another. I spot Mason laid out on the floor, a gaping wound in his stomach and blood spilling from his mouth.

Enraged by the sight before me, though not were-cat, the beast inside rears forward taking over. All I see is red. All I can think is kill.

Lord Lightfoot’s hand is poised to strike. Ready to dig his long claws into my kitten. The built-up rage is momentarily smothered by the coiling terror of losing Tawny.

I bound over fighting men and shifted cats, Seeing the Pride’s coalition of warriors fighting alongside Cambiador’s royal army working together. Other Clowders fighting against their neighbors. But none of that matters.

Only my Kitten matters.

“Tawny!” I yell out, nearing where Lightfoot holds her struggling form. Her eyes catch my beasts.

Bouncing off a tree for memento, I spin through the air like a sidewinding tornado. Tawny sees me and manages to gain strength.

Her feet come up, hands holding his arm, and kicks Lightfoot in the chest. The unsuspecting force makes his body move to the side and I plow into him - claws first.

We roll on the ground, coming to stop. His body goes limp underneath me. My claws stuck in his chest, spiking through his ribs and the tips of my sharp claws pierce his heart.

Lord Lightfoot’s horror-filled expression stares up at me as he takes his last breath.

I retract my claws clambering to my feet quickly and scooping Tawny up in my arms. “Talk to me kitten,” I say checking her out.

Her neck is bleeding, and the wound is turning dark from the nightshade poison.

“It was on his claws,” She rasps, finding it difficult to talk.

“Tristan!” I holler at the white snow leopard who is holding his own. I had never seen Tristan fight, but I was impressed. The older were-cat had been holding out on us.

Tristan shifts when he reaches us. “Take her inside, we need all medics ready to treat Nightshade poisoning.”

“Yes your highness,” Tristan takes Tawny from my arms and hurries to the Palace with her, where she will be safe.

I turn back to the fight and instead of jumping back into it, I push my arms back tilt my head up, curl my chest out and let my skin ripple. I grow twice my size and let the most commanding and loudest, deepest, prolonged roar I can manage.

The darkness of night suddenly falls silent with the last vibration of my loud howling roar. The fighting ceased and enemies stood side by side gawking at me. Blades were dropped, and mouths hung open.

Still, in a half-shifted state with red fur and crimson eyes, twice my regular size, I peered around at the blood bath. My eyes finally land on Maydor.

“You did this!” I hiss, pointing around at all the bodies. Some still breathing. Others, their souls drained from their lifeless bodies. “And for what? What use did this carnage serve?” I take a step toward him, and Maydor steps back.

I don’t wait for a reply, “Arrest the Lord’s that led this heinous coup, imprison the warriors that fought against the crown. They will all be held accountable for their treason and crimes against the Cambiadorian people. They have risked this kingdom and put them in jeopardy.”

“I know what you are boy!” Maydor hisses and spits at me, gaining my attention. “I was with Armand when he found you. You will be hunted when the realm finds out. When HE finds out you live.” Maydor gains composure as well as courage and takes a step toward me.

“You were meant to marry my bitch of a daughter for my silence. Now, look at this kingdom!” He holds his arms out wide and turns in a circle addressing the warriors and remaining Lords. “A Grimalkin and a hybrid will rule over the were-cat kingdom! Is this what you want? To be ruled by shifters of another race?”

The crowd grumbles and my agitation rises. “Princess tawny is a Phanton! The rightful ruler of this kingdom.” I counter his declaration.

“She is wolf!” Maydor yells “And you are not one of us.”

I had had enough of this bullshit and raised my claws to tear his neck open when I feel a small hand on my arm. “Crimson, don’t.”

I look down to see my kitten, a bandage on her neck. Her dark skin is ashen and pale. Her yellow eyes dim.

“I’m ok. I will heal.” She says but I still worry. She should be resting. Blood has already seeped through the wrapping.

“This kingdom needs to see new leaders, a new house on the throne!” Maydor begins to address the crowd.

“And you think you are best to fill that spot?” Tawny asks Maydor, her voice strong despite the injury.

“Step down from your position, Hybrid. Reject the Grimalkin and- uggghh” Maydor’s speech is cut off and replaced with a gurgling. Blood sputters from his mouth and he drops to his knees.

Tomislav stands behind him. His clawed hand was coated in blood. “I didn’t kill him.” He simply says and walks away from his father's incapacitated form.

In the background I hear Wyvern shouting orders, commanding medics to take the wounded and to secure the prisoners.

“Get him some medical attention and throw him in a cell.” I direct one of our warriors motioning to Maydor who lay on the ground gasping for breath.

“I think he just pierced his lung,” Tawny speculates.

I reach for her hand needing to feel her skin on mine. I bring her in front of me and cup her cheeks. For a long uninterrupted moment, we hold each other’s gaze. I don’t need any words, or a mind-link, to know what she’s thinking.

I can see it all in the glow of her yellow orbs as she peers up at me with love - As if I am the realm to her. A tear slides down my cheek when the thought of losing her crosses my mind. “You are everything to me,” I say searching her face for understanding. “I could have lost you tonight, Tawny.”

I frown because, the idea of living in this realm without her pains me. “I am nothing without you,” I tell her then stoop down to kiss her. Pouring every emotion, every ounce of love I have for this woman into that kiss - Conveying everything I am and everything I feel for her. The best way I know how.

“Your highnesses,” Lord Yowler, Lord Mendez, and three other Lords interrupt our moment. Reluctantly my lips leave my kittens.

Once they have my attention, they offer us a bow. The act and the fact they called us their ‘highnesses’ did not escape me.

Lord Yowler steps forward, speaking for the group of men. “We understand Princess Tawny has wolf's blood in her veins, and so did your grandmother. You are the true heir to the throne and we recognize you as such. Both of you. You have our support and the support of the kingdom. The soldiers only fought for Maydor and Lightfoot because they used underhanded tactics. Threatening and blackmailing their Clowder members.” Lord Yowler looks to his peers. “That is not something we condone and assure our houses do not operate like that.”

“We appreciate the support of your Clowders,” Tawny says. “Please have your men help with the injured and the prisoners. I see a bright future for Cambiador once this mess is handled.”

*****

These calls have always given me the creeps. Their modern, not like the ones under the Palace, but they still smell of treachery and evil. Not to mention the scent of blood and stale sweat the walls have absorbed over the years.

Papa Armand would have me observe interrogation, sometimes torture techniques on the criminals that committed murder or atrocities against children and females.

I come to a stop in front of the door to the last interrogation room. Maydor was sitting on the other side of the door. I squeeze my eyes shut when I hear Gillian’s voice.

“I want to see him.” She demands barreling down the corridor.

“Gillian, you are in no condition to see him, the stress is not good for you, my love.” I cock my head at Tristan’s words. My hand uncoiled from the door’s handle. “She’s pregnant.” He whisper hisses to me, taking me by surprise.

I look to my long-time friend, ex-lover, and ex-fiancée. She offers me a wide beaming smile in return. “Wow, congratulations!” I offer just a little bit jealous because I really want Tawny to bear our cubs.

The idea of being a father, and having my own family is something I look forward to. When I was with Gillian, I thought it would be nice to start a family, but with Tawny… It means so much more.

“He’s right,” I tell her sympathizing with Tristan’s worry. If it was Tawny there was no way I would let her in on an interrogation. Especially if it was her father.

Gillian may not like Maydor one bit. But she still loved him, despite his controlling and narcissistic behavior, he was still her father. She hated him for how he treated her and the things he says about her late mother but knowing Gillian as well as I do. She would wish harm to come to him. On anyone.

“I just want to speak to him before you-“ She waves her hand around, but her eyes never leave mine. “-You know… do your thing to him.”

I would laugh if this wasn’t so serious because poor Gill couldn’t even say the word torture.

I look to Tristan who is shaking his head. My eyes soften and my lips pull in, “She needs to do this.” I guiltily say. Gillian needs closure and this is the only way she is going to get it. If her father is executed once brought to the council, she may never get the chance to talk to him again. Or express what she needs to.

I understand what she needs, and I also understand why Tristan doesn’t want her to go in there. “Tristan, you need to let her do this.” I implore.

“I will go in with you,” Tristan says to his mate in a gentle tone. Gillian shakes her head. “No, I need to do this alone.” She resolves.

“He can’t move, he can’t touch her.” I offer - hoping to ease Tristan’s mind a little. “We can watch through the two-way mirror and a guard will be outside this door and in there at the first sign of any trouble.”

Reluctantly Tristan agrees even though it’s written all over his face that he doesn’t like it one little bit. But then, like me, he would do anything for his mate.

I step away from the door and it’s Gillian who now wraps a shaky hand around the handle and turns it. Just before she pushes the door open, I gently grab her arm and her attention, her head snaps to me. “Deep breath sweetheart,” I soothingly said. “We are right here. He can’t hurt you anymore only with words. He has no power over you. He hasn’t for a long time.”

When Gillian was little her father would take his anger out on her. A little smack in the mouth here and there. Once she gained her spirit animal, his abuse became a little more. A failed grade meant a lashing from his belt. A word spoken out of turn, and she was restricted from eating for a few days, sometimes longer. She never thought of herself as a victim but over the years she became a shadow of the little girl I first met and became the meek mouse she is today.

When the contract for marriage was proposed I didn’t think twice, I was her way out from under her father. I will always love Gillian. Just not in the same way, not like I once did. And I knew the feeling was mutual now she had found Tristan.

One thing that will never change – for as long as I live, I will always be her friend and look out for her. No matter what.

“I know, you are always there for me Kolby,” She smiles then covers the emotion with a look of stoicism and shoves the door open.

Tristan and I enter the adjoining room where we can watch and listen, making sure a guard is outside the cell door first. Her safety the utmost importance to both of us.

“Hello father,” She starts taking a seat across from him.

Maydor is shackled to the chair with silver chains, which is bolted to the concrete floor. He has been injected with wolfsbane to keep him compliant and his cat in the recess of his mind. His punctured lung already healed from when Tomislav injured him.

Maydor snorts at his daughter and I feel the vibration from a growl that rumbles out of Tristan’s chest. “They send you in here thinking I would soften up?” Maydor sneers.

“No, they sent me in here because I’m the least likely to kill you.” With an eerily calm voice, Gillian glares at her father. “I’m pregnant, I wanted to let you know you were going to be a grandfather.” She tilts her head when Maydor snickers at her.

“And you expect me to what? Jump for joy, because you whored yourself out like your mother?” He gives Gillian a scathing look and then averts his eyes from her, finding the mirror more interesting.

“No.” She sighs. “I just wanted to you know. I stopped expecting anything remotely close to a kind word from you a long time ago.”

Gillian leans back in the chair, looking almost too comfortable. “Tell me, oh father of mine. Why do hate my mother so much? What did she do to make you despise me so much?”

“She was a whore. Like mother like daughter. You were given a chance to become a Queen, but you couldn’t keep your legs closed. You had to fuck it up for the rest of us. Look at you now, knocked up with the child of a nothing. A low-ranking nothing were-cat.” The spit flies from his mouth, the venom dripping from his words.

Maydor leans forward as much he can, straining against the thick chains that bind him. “You ruined my chance to rule, and your mother ruined our Clowder. You should have never been born. I should have never had to take her as my wife.”

We watch as Gillian’s eyebrows scrunch together, “Then why did you?” I know she isn’t expecting an answer, and neither am I. So, it surprises us both when Maydor answers her.

The confession was just as much of a surprise.

“I took her as my wife because of you. Because she was pregnant with my brother’s child, assured to be a boy and when he died you were going to be the next heir. But you turned out to be a worthless fucking female. Not the boy I was promised. Oh, but your mother spread her legs only hours after my brother’s death. It was expected for me to take her as my own, but she didn’t protest, didn’t even weep for her mate’s death. MY BROTHER! The best thing that ever happened was your mother dying.”

The cold hard truth sinks into me. I see it sinking into Gillian. At this point, I would assume Gillian to start crying, but her reaction is one I could have never predicted.

A slow curve of her mouth forms a sadistic smile. Her blue eyes twinkle with delight as her father’s confession settles over her. “You know, I hadn’t really met my brother, Tomislav, or I guess he is really my cousin. But I had an interesting conversation with him before I came here to see you one last time.” She shifts in the chair, crossing her legs and adjusting the long skirt she wears.

“He told me how you treated his mother – him.” She shakes her head and tuts. “I feared you. I feared you since I could remember. But now,” She sneers looking him up and down. “I feel nothing for you. Tomislav and I will gain control of your Clowder. And you know what the first thing we are going to do with your money?” Her smile widens. “We are going to give it all away to women and families in need.”

Maydor growls at Gillian, “That money belongs to me!”

He goes off like a firecracker at Gillian’s next words, shaking and fighting his restraints, “Then… we are going to open the Maydor house as a refuge for the less wealthy. That’s right, father, all those dirty rankles werecats and their thieving children will be living in your house.”

“You can’t do that!” He shakes with outrage. And I come to the conclusion that he is sick in the head, power-hungry, and money greedy. And I wonder how Papa Armand was able to stand him for long. Maydor had a deep hatred for women. Where it came from the goddess only knows.

“Oh, but as your heir, I can do whatever I want. It’s all mine and Tomislav’s.” Gillian stands and walks around the table to stand close to her father.

Both Tristan and I go on high alert, the hair on my neck prickling. I’m two seconds away from barging in there so can’t get any closer to the asshole, when she leans in and softly whispers to Maydor, but loud enough for us to hear.

“Goodbye, father. That’s what I really came in here to say. I will never see you again and wanted you to die knowing that everything you greedily took, and everything you worked for, will go poof!” She leans in and plants a kiss on his cheek.

When she pulls back, I see a flash of silver and then copious amounts of blood gush from Maydor's neck. “I’ll see you in the underworld.” Gillian lashes her words at Maydor as she watches him bleed out onto the floor.

A move I never expected Gillian to make.

Tristan and I are through the door and crashing into the interrogation cell in no time. Tristan takes the knife from her hands as she begins to cry and collapses into his arms. I rush to Maydor, trying to hold his neck together. He had information and answers.

It’s useless. The slash won’t cauterize because of the wolfsbane, and the silver from the knife will ensure he can’t heal.

The life fades from his eyes and he coughs “You are a marked man Crimson, even your grandfather couldn’t hide you for long.” He coughs again before all the air from his body expels and he slumps forward.

I listen for heart rhythm, knowing I won’t find one. I look at Tristan, “Get her out of here.” I command.

If only Gillian would have waited before killing him, just until we had answers.