The Delta's Daughter Chapter 89

Tawny

I wiped the blood and sweat from my brow in an over-exaggerated movement. I was beat, tired, overwhelmed, exasperated; as many words as you can find to explain how broken a will and resolve was, I was it.

The aftermath of the carnage I stood amongst, was unimaginable. The streets ran red with blood that was slowly being absorbed by the dry dirt of Cambiador. I looked up to Mason, one of Lamia’s warriors, hoisting yet another body over his shoulder and placing it in the bed of the truck, with the others.

27 trucks lined the main road to the kingdom's heart, each filled with the body of a soldier or a civilian. I wanted to cry for the loss, but I had no tears, not that my tears would do any good. Not now, and not last night.

“Mason,” I called to the tall muscular were-cat. “Did you have any luck contacting anyone at MacTire?”

He nodded, walking over to me, wiping the mess of grime from his hands onto his blood-soaked jeans. “I spoke with Josiah, he was going to alert Commander Hunji and Alpha Travis but… I haven’t heard anything back yet.”

I closed my eyes, my lids heavy, and took a deep breath, steadying my nerves. I wasn’t made for this, this wasn’t me. When I opened them, Mason was watching me with scrupulous eyes.

“How many did you loose from your unit?” I dared to ask.

His deep brown eyes squinted and his lips pinched together. “Five” he said with remorse.

Five. That was five too many. Lamia had sent him with a dozen men for my protection. That was a month ago, the last time I had seen or spoken to her. She wasn’t at MacTire. I had no idea where she was and couldn’t get a hold of her.

I had sent a distress call to the Royal Pack, finally reaching the king, but at that point it was too late and they wouldn’t be here until tomorrow. In his haste, King Alexander had told me Lamia and her father were still somewhere in bear country.

“Take a break, go wash up and get something to eat. The bodies will still be there. Have your men take a break too.” I told Mason, adding “I’m sorry” in a much quieter voice. They had all lost someone; a father, a mother, a child. Everyone, except me.

I didn't know these... people. They didn't know me. I grew up an outcast from this kingdom, grew up with wolves, but it didn't make me sympathize for them any less. I saw the pain in Mason's eyes, and I see it on the faces of warriors and in the civilians who are trying to help each other. They were a community, none of them had ever seen a battle. They were not prepared. And above the smell of blood and death, came the sense of sorrow, a somber feeling settling in like a thick blanket coating the city.

I began walking back to the palace, to do exactly what I had just told Mason to do, and to find Crimson. My Grandfather had been injured last night and I didn’t know the extent but I do know it was severe.

My limbs felt like weights and I could feel my legs drag. My orange locks stuck to my face and as much as I brushed them away, they still came back to stick to the blood, dirt and sweat I was coated in.

 I looked up at the grand building. It was only a few short weeks ago that I had arrived here and was in awe of its beauty. Now it just looks like a sad wasted structure. The outer walls were scorched by the flames when Molotov cocktails were thrown at the building. Luckily, they didn’t manage to burn it down. I wish I could say the same for the rest of the city that was still burning in some areas.

I cast my mind back to last night as I made my way towards the steps that seemed so steep at that very moment.

**FLASHBACK**

They came in the night when the full moon was at its highest. While some were celebrating and most were sleeping. I didn’t belong to this Kingdom or any Clowder, so when the warning came, I was the last to know.

I was sitting in the room I had been given for the duration of my stay, reading a book that had caught my eye from the large library, when the sounds of screams reached my ears. The windows were open because the heat down here could be stifling and there was a light breeze that cooled the air.

I jumped from my sitting position, running to my door and flinging it open, stepping on to the balcony that overlooked the main hall, looking down. Men and women were scrambling, some running for the door, others stopping to look around. I spotted Crimson.

“Crimson!” I yelled to him, jumping over the banister and onto the marbled floor of the main hall. “What’s happening?” I asked, casting my eyes at the panicked group of people.

“We are under attack, Princess.” He rushed out. His jaw clamped tight and his eyes shifted to the door. “I need to go.” He was anxious to go fight with his men.

“Where is my grandfather?” my head moved side to side looking for him, as if he would just appear.

“He has already left for the front line, Princess.” He was inching to the door, desperate to join the battle, his eyes were almost pleading for me to let him go.

“Then I will go with you.” I demanded, placing my hands on my hips, glaring at him, daring him to stop me.

“But… Princess…” He stumbled and I cut him off.

“You are wasting time, Crimson,” I gritted. And the shithead huffed at me. Goddess Bastat, this was no time to have the 'weak girl' chat, he would have to get over himself.

“Let’s go.” he motioned towards the door with his head, reluctantly, reading the glare I gave him, daring him to say something. I climbed into the back of a truck that was waiting for us when we stepped outside the palace doors. Quickly clambering down the short steps. I took a seat in the bed of the truck with other fighters, who were waiting, while Crimson took the passenger seat in the cab.

The Warriors looked at me like I had lost my mind. A were-cat princess didn’t join the ranks.

Since being here, I have been treated like royalty, the way my mother should have been treated. And I assumed they all thought I was a weak and small princess who knew nothing. Once upon a time, I was that weak little girl. Not now though, in the past 3 years, I have grown and become unafraid, trained to fight and hold my own thanks to the wolves who took me under their wing.

Thanks to Lamia.

We arrived at the thick of the battle. I could already see we were losing. I hopped out the bed of the truck and went to take a step in the direction of the fight. My arm was grabbed and I turned to see Crimson with a look of worry, his yellow eyes scanning me, raking my body slowly.

“Tawny,” He croaked “I…”

“Crimson, whatever you have to say can wait. Right now your fighters need you.” I pulled my arm from his grasp abruptly. I had no time for excuses and he had no time for explanations. I didn’t care if he felt shitty, that was not my concern, nor was it my problem.

He had made that quite clear, with his hot and cold attitude towards me. I won't play his game. I don't play games.

I turned back towards the fight, and one of the warriors handed me a blade, a short sword. Similar to the one Lamia and Hunji trained me with. I smirked, now we were talking. I took off behind other fighters, in search of my grandfather.

I was not prepared for the scene I came upon.

I watched in stunned silence as cats fought rogue wolves and bears. They were few, but that’s not what was tearing our line apart. It was the creatures, the grey, red-eyed and long-clawed things that were leaping from buildings and tearing into our men and women.

The line was crumbling. “Hold the line!” I shouted and started to direct fighters to where gaps needed to be filled in the line, running back and forth, swinging my blade at wolves and creatures as they darted towards me.

I ducked when one of the things leapt over my head and latched its teeth and claws onto a fellow were-cat, sinking his sharp nails into his flesh. Foreboding horror crept over me when the were-cats skin began to smoke and burn, the were-cat screaming in agony as the creature’s claws burnt him, like silver.

It took me a minute, but when I did find my composure, I pounced towards the unholy thing and lashed my sword at his head. The heavy steel connected, slicing through its neck. There was no blood splatter, the head didn’t even fall. Instead, the creature disintegrated; particles of its once corporeal form floated like cinders from a fire. It was unnatural. I stood there stupefied at what I had just witnessed, stunned beyond words, utterly without words.

'Evil' I heard Juniper stir inside me 'un-natural.' She hissed, adding a sass with a low growl in distaste. I agreed, this was un-natural, whatever these things were.

I think my heart stopped for a second, but it seemed a lot longer, until I finally came out of the initial shock and gathered my senses.

And I tried to think, think, what would Hunji and Lamia do? The answer wasn’t coming to me and I saw another one of these things crawl down the side of a building and began tearing into another fighter. The screams were deafening as were-cats burned and then convulsed before dying, the creatures swarming our fighters.

“Tawny!” I turned to the voice, to see Mason “Let’s go!” He waved to me.

I ran to his side. “Don’t touch those things! Kill them however you can, but for fuck's sake do not let them scratch or bite you!” I looked around for Crimson, watching for more of these creatures. They were sneaky and I couldn't smell their scents, but Crimson, he could mind-link all the warriors and tell them how they could be killed.

There! I saw him mere meters away, fighting a rogue wolf. The rogue getting the upper hand, or so I thought, I ran to go help Crimson and stopped when he leaped up and bounced his feet off the wall of the building, shifting mid air, in the most fluid of ways and into the most captivating were-cat I had ever seen.

Sleek and lithe, his black spots dotted over a deep rich color inclining from yellow to crimson, a color that was liking to the hottest flames of a burning fire. His fur shimmered under the moonlight and the yellow of his eyes radiated his strength and energy. He was bewitching, stunning. At any other given time I would have taken a beat to admire his arresting form.

My heart fluttered and my breath caught in my lungs at the thought of how his ‘were’ form was just as handsome as his human form.

His claws dug into the rogue's neck and, with one swipe, tore it wide open. The rogue went limp and I watched in awe as Crimson leaned over the dead rogue, his fur shimmered to a bright yellow and back to the deep hue of red right as the rogue gasped for his last breath before dying.

“Crimson!” I called out to him, coming to my senses, wondering what it was I had just seen. This night was full of strangness.

His large cat form stalked towards me and brushed my leg. I couldn’t help but let my fingers glide along his velvety fur. How I wish things were different, but they weren’t, and we were in the midst of an attack. “Crimson, tell your men; do not let the creatures touch them. Their claws and teeth are toxic. They disintegrate... die easily by blade.” I hurried out the last part, not really knowing how to explain how they died and I was eager to join the battle and kill all these things, now I knew how.

He gave a low and deep purr in acknowledgement, and then warriors began shifting all around us, picking up weapons that lay on the ground, ones they had dropped from when they had shifted into their ‘were’ forms. Other fighters came rushing with swords in their hands and throwing their extra’s to fellow comrades, delving back into the fight, weapons at the ready.

“Hold the line!” Crimson commanded, his deep voice repeating my words from only moments ago, taking charge like a true leader should. He suddenly fell to the ground, clutching his chest, “The King!” He hissed, “He has fallen.”

Granddad! My head whipped around trying to find him, his eyes wide and wild, Crimson stumbled to his feet, moving hastily, determination in his footsteps. I was on his heels as we rounded the corner of a building and we saw my grandfather being mauled, by several of the ugly creatures.

“Granddad!”, “King!” both Crimson and I shouted, rushing forward and swinging our blades at the hideous looking things, disposing of them quickly. I dropped to my knees by my grandfather head, cradling it in my lap, my eyes scanning his body, assessing his injuries. It was bad.

Four warriors came running to our location and scooped my grandfather up. “Take him to the palace, and have a healer come tend to him there, the people cannot be discouraged and see his ailment.” Crimson commanded the four men. They hurried away into the night, carrying him with speed.

*****

The fight lasted until dawn’s morning light began to peek over the city. It was only then that the creatures and rogues began to retreat. We had lost so many. Too many; Cambiador was not equipped, nor prepared for an attack of this magnitude. Were-cats are fast and lethal, but they lack the strength of the bears and the organization and numbers the wolves have. And these… creatures, whatever they were, were not of this realm.

Now, I stood on the steps to the palace, willing my feet to move. We had been blindsided, ambushed. I headed straight for my grandfather's chambers, needing to check on his health.

“Princess, he is waiting for you” The healer bowed as I stood outside his door. “Please go in.” The healer was just coming out and closing the door behind him. Two guards flanked his chamber's entrance.

“Thank you” I gave a small appreciative smile, the best I could muster, which wasn’t much, before opening the door and slipping inside.

He, my grandfather, lay on his bed, the sheet pulled up to his neck. He looked even older. His charcoal colored skin was now an ashy color, dull and grey. His breaths were shallow and shaky. I gulped, knowing this was not good, and tried to hold the tears that threatened to escape. I could hear the slow pound of his heart as I moved closer to the bed.

“Grandfather…” I choked at my words as my eyes cast down on the debilitated man. The powerful King Armand of the were-cats, lay looking like nothing but a frail old man. The light in his yellow eyes, dulled to a lifeless pale color.

“Child… I am dying.” His words strained as he fought to speak through his pain. “I regret every day not knowing you sooner… Here,” he lifted his shaking hand and reached out for mine, tugging for me to sit. “Take this ring, only the bearer will become king. It is now your responsibility… to bring the next heir to the throne.” He coughed and a small amount of blood seeped into his mouth.

I didn’t understand why he was giving me the ring; I had been told on several occasions by him that I would not take the throne. He had already named his successor, Kolby Crimson, his second in command, his Theta. I scrunched my eyebrows at him.

“Now leave, dear girl, and send Crimson in. We have much to discuss and I am afraid it will be too late before I can name my successor.” He let go of my hand. The cold ring in my palm.

I stood and left, not before kissing his forehead, “May the god’s, receive you well, King. And may you live long in the afterlife.” I, again, choked back my tears, “Thank you for letting us get to know each other Grandfather, I love you.” Tears brimming at the surface, I told the guards on the way out to summon Crimson.

After a much needed shower and changing my clothes, I called King Alexander, seeing-as I couldn’t get a hold of Kellen or Mike. I relayed the battle to him and the strange creatures that had attacked us. I was still trying to make sense of my emotions. I didn't know my grandfather as well as I would have liked to. But even so, these past few weeks, getting to know him, I had grown to love him for the person he is, not the person he was or who I had been told about. His old-fashioned mind had changed over the years, but he didn't know how to accept those changes or the changing world around him.

“Tawny, I think maybe you should come home, Lamia will be arriving here today, before going back to MacTire…” He was concerned and thought, me being there, I could be protected. “Those things… crawlers, is what we have been calling them, are popping up everywhere and attacking smaller packs, here, the bear kingdom and now there.”

“Your highness, I believe I should stay here. I can be of better use. King Armand is on his death bed, as we speak…” My throat tightened at the thought of his inevitable and pending death. “I need to be here, you highness. The city is in ruins and there have been many lost, too many.”

“I understand, Tawny; we have sent elite warriors to the adjoining border. Your father is amongst them. I have instructed them to hold up there, in case we are needed, we are closer to come to your aide. We will wait for your word.”

“Thank you, sir. Your willingness to help the were-cats will not go un-noticed by them, especially in their time of need.”

I hung up and made my way back to my Grandfather's chambers. The closer I got, the stronger Crimson’s scent became, the sweet smell of baked bread and cinnamon butter. I took a deep breath, and calmed myself.

He would not affect me, I would not allow it.

I opened the door and his deep yellow eyes latched onto mine, from his kneeling position next to my Grandfather, burning a hole right through me. Tears streaked his face when he lifted his head.

“The King is dead.” Crimson’s solemn words hit me and I let the first tear fall.

The Cat’s cradle had come undone. And it was up to us to hold it together.