TAWNY
Day two in Cambiador: I find myself waking up in the bright room. My short body - lost in the crisp white sheets of the enormous bed I’m sleeping in. It’s so big and high that when I literally crawl to the edge and sit, my feet dangle off the side and I have to hop down.
Landing on two feet, I stretch and make my way to the overly lavish and gold-accented bathroom. I pause by door number three and open it a crack, just to hear Mason’s deep snores coming from his makeshift bed on one of the couches in there.
I chuckle to myself at the sound. I had met Mason a few times, but never really spent an extended amount of time around him. I liked him though. He was down to earth, quick-witted, and an all-around nice guy. Hopefully, they would sort his room out today. It angered me that they would shove him into something that was no better than a broom closet. Like he was beneath them, less cow shit.
After showering and smelling like I dove head-first into a dumpster full of flowers, I wrap a towel around me and walk back into the bedroom. There was no way in hell I would be wearing anything that was hanging up in the closet (door number two). Everything was fancy and frilly, and though I do wear dresses, mostly for special occasions, – I don’t wear foo-foo fabrics with frills and bows.
Nope, thank you. I will stick to my cargo pants and tanks. Easier to attach my knives and throwing stars.
“Moons and stars Tawny!” Mason hisses.
I turn to look at him. He has his hands over his eyes, his body turned away from me. “What?” I chuckle. Finding his embarrassment adorable.
“You can’t just parade around in nothing but a towel” He exasperates – Hands still covering his eyes.
“Why, have you never seen a woman in a towel? Mason we are shifters, we see people naked all the time.”
“It’s not the same.” He grits.
I laugh again, grabbing my clothes from my suitcase, “It’s exactly the same thing.”
Mason stumbles to the bathroom. Making sure his eyes stay off me. What a sweetie.
While he washes up, I dress in a pair of black cargo pants and a red tank, throwing on my boots. Or shit kickers as Lamia and refer to them, putting on a small amount of makeup. Better known as war paint, a phrase Ria enlightened us to. When we asked why she called it that, she said: If you want to look your best and catch a man then you are going to war with all the other women after said man. Hence war paint.
Mason emerged from the bathroom. Towel slung low around his hips, my trailing the taut muscles that lined his frame. “So, I can’t, but you can?”
“I forgot my clothes” he grumbles heading back through door number three. “Besides,” He shouts, “I’m not a princess or female. Therefore, when you have to share a room with a male – you should be more modest. Otherwise, they might get the wrong idea.”
“Are you getting the wrong idea, Mason?” I shout back, holding in the giggle I want to release. I can just imagine the expression on his face.
There are a few moments of silence before Mason comes out fully dressed, similar to how I am dressed – Black Cargo pants, a grey t-shirt with the MacTire logo on the left-hand side. Standard issue for a warrior of MacTire. “No, not getting the wrong idea. But I don’t want anyone else to get the wrong idea either. This is not a wolf pack, Tawny. Things – laws – people, they are different here.”
I imagined they were. “I guess I will have to find out just how different. Thankfully I have you with me” I give him a genuine smile and pat his shoulder as I walk by him toward the main door of the room. “Hungry? Because I’m starving!”
“Most definitely” Mason chuckles and takes up behind me. Following me out of the room and down the staircase towards the smell of freshly cooked food, a scent that had me drooling.
“Good morning princess!” Gillian bows as Mason and I walk into the gigantic kitchen. It’s big but singular. Unlike the Moon palace’s main kitchen which boasts 3 ovens, five refrigerators, and then some. This kitchen only has one stove a built-in griddle and, what appears to be a walk-in fridge/freezer. The whole kitchen is decked out in white marbling from the floor to the countertops, with flecks of gold patterning the surfaces.
“Good morning, Gillian.” I acknowledged her. She is sitting on a stool at one of the countertops. A glass of orange juice in her hands and a folded paper next to her. Two women are busy bustling around the kitchen but stop when they hear me.
“If you would like to put your order into our cooks, they can serve it to you at the main dining table.” Her voice is soft and sincere. She’s so timid. Not just the way she talks, but her whole demeanor just screams unconfident. She has an air of shyness and meekness about her. She is definitely submissive – eager to please.
I give her a pitiful smile, realizing the type of person she is. I remember all too well when I too was the same way. Until I met Lamia. The scared and timed girl I once was, is long gone now.
“Mm, I think we can eat in here,” I give Mason a look and he nods his head in approval. Last night we ate in the formal dining room. The table could seat around twenty-two people and the four of us sitting there eating, made the enormity of the table look unwelcoming and quite uncomfortable. “I would like whatever you are cooking up, please,” I say to the two women who are standing there waiting for orders. “My personal guard will have the same,” I speak for Mason seeing as no one seems to be looking at him or acknowledging him in any way.
Mason takes a seat next to me and Gillian’s eyes almost bulge out. “Something wrong?” I ask her, innocently.
“Oh, um no. It’s just the… help, don’t usually sit with us. I thought last night at the diner table, was just for introduction purposes.”
I shake my head. “The cat kingdom is very different.” I look at Gillian, her blue eyes less wide now. “I’m beginning to think the higher-ranking members don’t value the workers.” She gapes at me, not sure what to say. “I mean, I have been here less than twenty-four hours and already see how my personal guard was treated. I would like to see my accompanying warriors after breakfast. I would be interested to know how they are being accommodated.”
“Of-of course, I can have a lead warrior give you a tour after breakfast. The warriors will have already eaten princess.”
“Tawny.”
“Huh?” She asks.
“Tawny. Not Princess.”
“I am sorry. His highness insisted we call you by your correct title before you even arrived.” She looks down into her juice “I don’t know how other kingdoms function, but I can assure you we treat everyone equally.”
I scoff and point at her “Equally means holding them in the same regard as yourself. Not giving them a separate set of rules and calling it equal.”
There’s a moment of strained silence as I see Gillian’s eyes flicker around the room in thought. Mulling over what I just said to her. Finally, she nods and takes another sip of her juice. My ears catch the sound of heavy feet just as Gillian stiffens along with Mason.
The door to the kitchen swings openly abruptly and my grandfather, King Armand walks in. A grouchy scowl formed on his face. “I have been sitting at that table for well over twenty minutes by myself, Gillian.” He stops when he notices me and Mason. “Oh, good morning, Granddaughter” He greets me.
“Good morning. Mason and I thought we could sit in here for breakfast. It’s so much more intimate. And cozier.” I tell him.
He claps his hands together, his grouchy frown turning into a gleeful smile, “Well what a great idea. That table is way too big anyway.” He comes around and sits next to me, so I am between him and Mason.
“I was just telling Gillian how I would like a tour today. I would especially like to see where my warriors are being housed and hopefully, Mason’s room will be upgraded today?” My eyes travel from the King’s to Gillian’s.
“Of course, we have maids working on preparing his room already. It was the first thing I ordered them to do this morning. Again, I am so sorry if I offended you.” Gillian looks at me with regret and hope in her eyes, that I will be understanding and forgive their mistake.
“No worries,” I coin Lamia’s overly-used phrase and offer her a weak smile. “I know shit happens. It’s fixable so no harm done.” I don’t know enough about this kingdom, its people, and its inner workings to judge unfairly. But so far first impressions of how they treat none ranked citizens, have not been great.
The two ladies bring over dishes of food and start laying them down on the countertop table. I sigh with relief and reach to load the plate that was set in front of me. Hoping my sigh sounds like I’m just thankful for food and not thankful that I can stop conversing with them.
“I will personally be showing you around, today.” My grandfather speaks while shoveling eggs into his mouth. “This way we can get to know each other better, while I show you your heritage.”
Gillian clears her throat, “Have you heard from Kolby, your highness?” Even when speaking of her fiancé, her voice is soft and uncertain. Her eyes not meeting my grandfather’s from across the table.
“I have. He should be home by the end of the week. It seems this Queen Lamia, has insisted he stay for a few more days.” Gillian looked down in disappointment, I figured she must obviously be missing her mate.
“How long have you and… Kolby, known you were mates?” I ask with interest. I’m a sucker for romance and love to hear about mates meeting. Eventually, I would find my own. One day I hoped.
“Oh, were not mates.” Gillian shook her head exclaiming. “Well not until our contract is fulfilled and then we can be mated.” She gives a sheepish smile.
“Oh?” I’m surprised. “You are chosen mates then?”
“Well, no, not exactly…”
“Gillian and Kolby were chosen for each other. By me.” My Grandfather fills us in with a proud and cheerful tone.
“So… an arranged mating?” Mason asks with just as much confusion lacing his words as I was feeling. The room is silent and my grandfather stares at Mason with a hint of distaste curling up on his lips.
“Yes. Kolby is a ranked member of the Kingdom. He can’t just marry anyone.” My Grandfather bites out in defense.
I scratch my temple, swallowing my food, “But what about their mates? What if they meet them after they are married and mated? What happens to them?”
The room is silent, thick with tension as my grandfather and Gillian share a look. My eyes flit between the two were-cats waiting for one of them elaborate and answer my question. But they don’t. Instead, Gillian finishes the bite she was chewing and excuses herself from the table.
“Come, Granddaughter. Let me show you around the palace’s compound.” He lays his napkin down on his plate and stands from the table. Holding a hand out to me. I take a quick look at Mason, who is still eating, and groans when he catches my eye. I nod for him to follow and reluctantly stands from the table.
I wish I could mind-link with him because that exchange at the table was even stranger than last night. Who hand-picks their Beta’s mate? And why would they need a contract before they could take each other as chosen mates?
We leave Mason with the warriors, my grandfather insisting we carry on the tour just the two of us. I was quite thankful that the warrior barracks were much better equipped than I had feared. Still room for huge improvements, and nothing like the Moon Palace where most had their own rooms or shared living quarters. Here they all shared a room with one large communal bathroom and a mess hall that was attached to the main building. “Where are the women’s barracks?” I ask as we walk down a gravel path back in the direction of the palace.
King Armand stops and turns to face me, halting my septs as he does. He looks confused at my question and grimaces. “We don’t have women warriors.” He says in all seriousness.
“Why?”
“Women don’t belong in battle. Their place is in the home. Taking care of their men or Clowder.”
My mouth gapes open in utter shock. Not because there are no women warriors but because of his statement. He carries on walking, and I trail behind him still in a stupor. “That’s a really unconventional and outdated way of thinking.” I scowl from behind him.
I couldn’t not say anything. “You realize you sent your second in command to the MacTire Kingdom, which is the most diversified kingdom I know of, yet you speak like we are only in the first cycle of this realm?” Now I’m just riling myself up. “Which by the way is run by a woman! A woman who is tougher than any man I have ever met and so happens to be my best friend? She trained me, without her or her Beta, I wouldn’t be half the person I am now!”
I huff out a breath. Willing myself to shut up before my mouth got out of control. To my surprise, my grandfather laughs. Like, full-out belly laughs.
I’m about to unload my petite ass on him until he finally stops and speaks “And this is one of many reasons I have brought you home, Tawny.” He clasps his hands behind his back as we make our way around the back of the palace into their gardens. “It’s time we talked about why you are here.”
I take in the extravagant and exotic plants. Beautiful flowers of red and gold. Purple hues accent maroon leaves and white petals. Manmade waterfalls spilled into small ponds, all connected by little bridges. The place is so beautiful and full of life it reminds me of the gardens of Bubastis as depicted by our ancestors.
“And why am I here King Armand?”
“To become Queen,” he answered.
TAWNY I know I heard him right. My brain just wasn’t processing his words. I scoff, quite loudly. “Come, sit with me, Tawny. Humor an old man,” King Armand gestures to a bench facing one of the small bridges over a larger pond. He takes a seat sliding over for me to sit next to him. I oblige, leaving a little distance between the two of us, and lock eyes on the bridge. I don’t know where else to look and I’m keeping my mouth shut right now. Doing the whole think before you speak thing. We sit in silence for a few moments. And I wonder if he is waiting for me to speak, or if he is gauging my reaction. Before I can think of what to say his gravelly voice fills the silence. “Our laws here, in the Cambiador Kingdom, are different to wolf and bear kingdoms. In many ways. They are outdated and older than me.” He chuckles, “I sent Kolby to MacTire to establish an alliance with Alpha Lamia because I think we could learn a lot from her. Plus, our kingdom has no other alliances.” “Why Lami
TAWNY I hardly slept at all last night. The thoughts of the family’s situation from yesterday played on my conscious. Wondering what happened to them after they were let go, where did they go? Would they be looking for food again and run into the same circumstances? I hoped not. I wanted to go find them – help them. Provide for them. The little boy’s pale face and malnourished body were a vision I couldn’t shake. It was Mason who held me back, stating that it was not our place to interfere. He didn’t know of my grandfather’s wishes and proposition to make me queen. That was something else that kept me awake in the late and early hours of the night. I didn’t know what to expect when I came here. It certainly wasn’t this. The impression I had of my grandfather before I arrived was slowly changing. At each turn, he kept contradicting what I thought I knew. Surprising me. I was determined to be indifferent to him – to hold him at arm’s length, but in three days I found myself liking hi
TAWNY I spent the next few days with Gillian going over the laws of the Cambiador Kingdom. Getting to know its history and the main players in running this kingdom. To say it was different from how the Moon Kingdom is run - is an understatement. Cambiador is a rich country full of wealth and technology that is supplied around the continent. They even trade with humans in boroughs. In the evenings, after dinner, I meet with Mason and discuss how their warriors are trained. What their army looks like and how it compares to MacTire’s. Honestly, it doesn’t. They may have a plethitude of gold and wealth, yet they lack the skills to defend their kingdom if it was ever necessary. After dinner, I have been sitting with my grandfather in his study, learning, talking, and getting to know each other more. I find the more we are around one another the more I like him. King Armand is nothing like I first assumed he was. Nor is he the man I had painted a picture of in my head. I can honestly sa
TAWNY SIX MONTHS EARLIER I avoided Kolby Crimson for the better part of two weeks. Although I did have to formally be introduced to him. That was awkward as shit. Shaking his hand and feeling the tingles erupt all over my body. Every time I was in close proximity to him my body would start to heat up, a searing flush racing across my skin and sending flutters into chaos in my stomach. I couldn’t be around him for long otherwise I was sure I would disintegrate into a pile of ashes. How could he act so casually around me? Did it not affect him? And every time the heat would give way to a different kind of burning, a wave of anger that stemmed from my frustration and confusion. Was he waiting for me to say something? Because that wouldn’t happen. There was no way I was going to put myself on the spot like that. No way I would show vulnerability to a man who was my supposed mate and appeared as if he could care less. Then there was the odd occasion I would run into him in the palace w
TAWNY I wiped the blood and sweat from my brow in an over-exaggerated movement. I was beaten, tired, overwhelmed, exasperated; as many words, as you can find to explain how broken a will and resolve was - I was it. The sun was peaking over the horizon, the red glow in the sky reflecting the blood that drenched the streets of Cambiador. 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. I looked up to Mason, hoisting yet another body over his shoulder and placing it in the bed of the truck, with the others. We had lost five of Mason’s warriors he brought with him from MacTire. Five too many and countless warriors and civilians of Cambiador. I didn't know these... people. They didn't know me. I grew up an outcast from this kingdom, I grew up with wolves, but it didn't make me sympathize with them any less. I saw the pain in Mason's eyes, and I see it on the faces of warriors, in the civilians
CRIMSON From the moment I laid eyes on the princess I was instantly pulled to her, but I was engaged, and I loved Gillian. Didn’t I? Then why was I so worked up at Tawny’s sassy and bold mouth? Why am I kissing her, my body reacting to hers, coming alive at the feel of her soft tiny body against mine? Mason’s voice had her pulling away from me thankfully. So why did I instantly feel cold and empty once she had moved away from my embrace? “Are you okay Princess?” Mason asked her, his hands on her arms and dark eyes full of worry gliding over her frame. I scrunched my face up, did she call him to come here? Is she afraid of me? She should be. It wasn’t until she accused me of ignoring the mate bond, the serious look on her face - did I realize I was her mate. I thought King Armand would have told her about me, apparently, he didn’t because she looked at me like I was insane when I told her I wasn’t a werecat. She thought I was making it up, but I have no reason to lie. I know the
TAWNY FIVE MONTHS EARLIER “Keep those elbows tucked in!” Mason yelled at the warriors. “You’re leaving yourself open to take a hit to the ribs Wyvern!” “How are they doing?” I ask when Mason spots me and comes to stand by my side as we both observe the warriors in training. During the past month, following the attack, we have implemented new training techniques, harsher courses, and tougher challenges. The warriors were beginning to shape up but were nowhere near ready for battle if the kingdom was to be attacked again. “Not bad. They are making progress, unfortunately, their training is what Alpha Lamia has our young teens doing in MacTire. I fear that they will never be ready.” He sighs and dips his head towards the ground. I clap a hand on his shoulder “Well let’s extend their training hours - split them up according to skill. What if we concentrated on a small group that we could personally train to head up the other groups? “Or… “ I say thinking out loud “What if we took th
CRIMSON I walk out of the room, Gillian in tow and Tawny behind her. Shit I forgot all about Arnold coming to meet with us, the whole reason I needed to speak with Tawny. I have no idea what happened in there. How or why - I did what I did. When tawny told me she felt it every time I made love to Gillian, the guilt inside me filled my head with doubts and my heart ached for her discomfort. Pain that I had caused. The look in her tear-glazed eyes had my resolve breaking and I could think of nothing more than comforting her. Once in my arms, I could think of nothing else but being inside her, claiming her as mine. I wanted her for my own selfish reasons. Was that the bond between us at work? An invisible thread drawing me to her? Whatever happened, whatever it was - it couldn’t and wouldn’t happen again. I open the door to my office, Arnold Maydor, Gillian’s father is standing with his back to me his attention on whatever he sees outside the window that looks over the training gro