Delilah & the Black Wolves (complete)

I was born from an affair - something considered an utmost crime in my homeland. It wasn’t the act itself that was abhorrent - no, it was me. A child born out of an adulterous affair, out of wedlock, was seen in the eyes of Irina as the greatest besmirching of her honor.

My mother was a widow; her husband had recently died in the war against the centaur Demir, just before Ophirin allied with the Rakshasa Court. She had one son already, and was forced to take up work in the household of Lord Eyron Swaene. She served on his staff, slowly gaining favor in the palace. She became known for her beauty and grace, even while doing menial chores. She caught the eye of my father easily, as he was one for shiny and pretty things. Beautiful women were just one of his many weaknesses. 

I was born on the day of Lord Swaene’s wedding to the Lady Melinda Fairmont, a woman of great stature - a powerful, wealthy vassal, and a devoted adherent of the goddess Irina. Their wedding was one of rituals and tribute to Irina, opulent, expensive, and beautiful. Yet I was born in a cramped cottage belonging to an old woman whose specialty was birthing the Blights. 

Blights are those that Irina the goddess hates most; the children born from mistresses and whores, as Irina puts it. I was secreted away and kept hidden for the duration of Lord Swaene’s honeymoon. My mother had intended to keep me secret to keep me safe, but tongues rarely ever stop wagging, and my father found me.

I was barely a year old and hadn’t yet weaned from my mother’s breast. Lady Fairmont, or, well, Lady Swaene by then, was unable to conceive, so my father decided to take me. I was forcibly separated from my mother and my brother and taken to live in the palace. 

It was a decision that Lady Swaene fought hard against. My father badly wanted a child, but to Lady Swaene I was a reminder of what her husband had done during their engagement, and a mockery of what he still continued to do. It fell to the Swaene household staff to raise me, while my father’s wife did her best to ignore my existence. 

My father, on the other hand, felt a great deal of guilt over me, and he tried to raise me as best as he could. For what it was worth, I adored my father; to me he was the best person in the entire world. We played often, he took me horseback riding, which was my favorite, he spoiled me with anything I wanted. But really, all I wanted was my mother, and the woman who shunned me to the point that I might as well have been invisible. 

It was my sixth birthday, and I was growing so excited. The number six was holy to Irina, so a sixth birthday was considered a cause of joyous celebration. I was expecting a big party and to be blessed by the Holy Sisters of Irina. I woke up early in the morning, and sprinted through the halls to the dining room. When I got there, I saw nothing except my parents having breakfast.

“What are you doing out of bed like that?” Lady Swaene sniffed. “You look ridiculous!”

I hadn’t stopped to dress or get out of my nightgown. “I thought-” I whimpered as I looked between them. “It’s my birthday.” I tried to put a smile on.

Lady Swaene stood and left while my father sat there in his chair. Once she was gone, he scooped me up and took me to my room.

“I’m six,” I told him, thinking maybe he forgot. After all he was always so busy. 

“I know, Delilah I know,” he soothed as he sat me down.

The look on his face was stricken, as if he had the answer to my unspoken questions, but wasn’t ready to give it to me. He just stroked my hair and helped me pick out clothes. There was no birthday party, no celebration; the only gift I got was from my father, and he had to give it to me in secret. 

That night I heard my parents arguing in my father’s study. I was crying and wanted a hug but I could hear the screaming from the end of the hallway. I watched them through the crack in the door as they hissed and yelled at one another.

“She is only a child!” my father snapped.

“She is a Blight, you wretched devil!” Lady Swaene screamed at him. “I do not care what she is or what face she may have, for she is a sin against Irina! She is no child so long as she is a Blight and unholy!”

My father slapped her across the face. “You and this ridiculous devotion to something that doesn’t exist! You make me sick!”

“You make me sicker,” Lady Swaene snarled at him, jumping right back into his face. She clamped her hand around his neck and shook him. “How dare you call down her wrath like that?”

“I beg for it!” My father bellowed. “If she comes to give it to me herself I will laugh in her face!”

Both of Lady Swaene’s fists wrapped around his neck, choking him until she tossed him down onto the floor. “I will never love that child. I will never even feel sympathy for it!” she roared. “She is yours, and she has never once been mine. You’d best give her back to that whore of yours. I would rather our house die than leave it to her.”

“Our house?” my father wheezed.

Lady Swaene stomped from the room, and I hid behind the door as she left. For the longest time I just sat there and stared into nothing. I was so young and so confused, but I knew then that Lady Swaene was not my mother.

I held my tongue all that time, growing up knowing Lady Swaene hated me as she did all Blights. I grew up knowing what I was, and still I carried on as if I didn’t. I excelled in my studies and my father even let me learn swordplay, albeit a watered-down version of it. My teacher, Rolf, was young, just five years older than me, but he was smart and studious and already an accomplished swordsman. He also knew I was capable of more than just women’s swordplay. He taught me how to actually fight, and one day he let me borrow one of his broadswords.

“You’ll be twelve tomorrow,” he told me. “I think you deserve this.” He handed me the sword I had come to love practicing with. I called it Wolf’s Tongue, because the metal had a pink hue to it.

“Really?” I gasped. “Oh Rolf, I can’t! This is far too nice!”

“You deserve it. You’ve been working so hard. Twelve is a big year, and a great cause for celebration.”

I grew silent and glance towards him with a weary look. “It is?” I mumbled. 

“What’s the matter?” Rolf asked. “Isn’t your family going to throw you something special? I would think with all Lord Swaene’s time and money he would-” he stopped immediately when the tears started to flow. “Delilah,” he stooped down and put his arms around me. “Don’t cry, please.”

“I hate it here,” I confessed to him. It was the first time I had allowed myself to admit it. “I don’t belong here at all!”

Rolf wiped away my tears. “It’s okay, kid, it’s okay,” he coaxed me. “What makes you think that? Why are you so miserable? Everytime I see you you’re bright and smiling.”

“That’s because I’m excited to see you. You’re my only friend, Rolf,” I whimpered. “My father is all right, but I feel like a burden to him,” I hiccuped and sputtered through my tears. “And my mother-” I broke down sobbing again while Rolf continued to hug me.

“Your mother loves you,” Rolf whispered.

“No she doesn’t! I’m not even hers,” I blurted out the words and quickly covered my mouth. I looked to Rolf in fear and reached out to him. “Please! You can’t say anything! No one is supposed to know!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Rolf stroked my hair and smiled at me. “Your secret is safe with me, kid, no worries.” He hugged me again and let me cry some more.

That evening Lady Swaene came into my room with a cart. She had a smile on her face, and I was greatly bothered by it. 

“Happy Birthday, little Delilah,” she sings to me. “Come here, I’ve made you something special.” She poured tea and then started cutting a cake.

“Where’s Dad?” I asked.

Lady Swaene remained silent as she serves. “This is just something between us. A way to make up.” She handed me a slice of cake on a plate. “I promise, from here on out, things between us will be much better. After all, you’re becoming a young woman now.”

I took the cake from her, still feeling that dark dread heavy on my shoulders. But I was so desperate for my mother to love me, I was willing to accept anything and everything. I ate the cake while she watched, and afterwards, she tucked me into bed and told me good night. By morning, I was so violently sick that I was in a delirium for days. I remembered very little, and as I healed Lady Swaene would come bring me soup. Even when I didn’t want to eat, or felt I couldn’t, she made sure I ate. I got weaker and weaker, until one day I was stirred from sleep by the sounds of a fight.

My father was choking Lady Swaene. He had her down on the ground, nearly bashing her head into the ground. “You’ve been poisoning my child! You’ve been poisoning her!”

“She deserves to die!” Lady Swaene screamed as she wrenched his shands back. “We need to sacrifice her to Irina now before anything happens to us! You have to do it, Eyron! She has to die!”

My father wasted no time removing me from the castle. I was still very sick, but I was being taken back to my real mother. When we reached her cottage, to my surprise, Rolf was there as well. In fact, he was my half brother. 

My mother and Rolf nursed me back to health, it took over a year to recover from the effects of Lady Swaene’s poison. Rolf helped me get strong again and continued to train me in the sword, and using Wolf’s Tongue I became a formidable opponent. I also had my mother, who sobbingly apologized to me for everything. All I really I wanted from her was her love, and she gave it so willingly and so freely I wasn’t sure what to do with it. 

As I grew up, I started putting my talents to use. My education and natural charisma were a boon, and my skill with a sword was a necessity in the real world. Outside the walls of the castle I grew up in, we had to fight to survive. Especially with me being a Blight, I had to take on jobs that were a little more dangerous, hunting overly brave predators, guarding against bandits. I built up a crew around me, other young Blights fighting to earn their keep and a place in this world. We did mercenary work as well as guard duty, and whatever else we could do. My father had been paying me and my mother money to keep our mouths shut about who I was, and I started funneling that money into making a home for me and the other Blights.

We eventually became known as the Black Wolves, and we were the sheltering shadow of Ophirin. We protected the people, we rescued Blights like us, and we worked hard at whatever task we were given. 

When my father died and Lady Swaene fled from Swaene’s Vineyard, I decided to try and take back what was mine. I knew it was foolish and probably would be the death of me, but it was a wasted effort - neither King Alexander or Lord Bracchus would listen to my pleas. I was my father’s only child and I deserved to have what was mine. I deserved to have my name.

This is what led me to my wedding day. I am marrying Prince Chirayu, who I had not only kidnapped, but who saved my life by offering to marry me and averting what could have been a deadly siege. In the time between then and our marriage, we fell in love. I’m actually excited to marry Chirayu, not just to legitimize my claim, but because I want to.

“Look at you in a dress!” Rolf teases me. “Pretty as a picture. There’s no way you’re my snotty little sister.”

“Fuck off, you damn shitter,” I scoff at him. I then jump up and wrap my arms around him. “Do I really look that silly? Queen Mother Mythri dressed me.” I pose for him in my new gown. It’s a soft, peachy color that makes my skin look like porcelain and my scars appear faded. It’s threaded with shimmering gold fibers, and finished with a sheer drape. It reminds me of the blossoms around the vineyard that beckon bees toward it.

“You look beautiful, just like Mom.” Rolf kisses my forehead. “I bet she’s very happy right now.”

Mom died a year ago after a sudden illness. It’s another part of what made me desperate to reclaim my place as the Swaene heir. 

“I’ve never been that pretty,” I scoff. 

“You are, though,” Rolf smirks. “Once Chirayu sees you like this he’s going to wonder who the hell you are.”

“Oh, ha-ha!” I snap at him before playfully punching his arm. Then I whisper, “I’m so nervous. I’ve never felt this mix of excitement, worry, doubt, and absolute joy before. I’m all twisted!”

“That’s a good sign,” Rolf squeezes my hand. “I’m proud of you, Delilah. You know that, right?” 

My eyes start to get misty. “Of course I do, you big oaf.” I squeeze him tight.

There’s a knock on the door and Damini, my soon-to-be sister-in-law, steps in. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but someone is trying to barge into the wedding. We’ve got it under control, but I figured you’d want to know.”

I scowl, then stand up and walks towards her. “Who is it?”

“It’s Lady Fairmont,” Damini replies with a scowl of her own. “She and her men, as well as the priestesses of Irina.”

There is a cold pit in my stomach. I take in a deep breath. “Let me talk to her.” I slowly move towards the door.

“You sure?” Damini asks, following me as I leave my room. “She sounds crazy.”

“No. And that’s her, without a doubt,” I grumble.

“Lady Fairmont used to be known as Lady Swaene,” Rolf tells Damini. “She’s Delilah’s stepmother.”

Damini gasps in alarm. “Delilah, really.” She grabs my hand. “My family can handle this. You don’t need to be dealing with that woman on a day like this. Go on back to your room and we’ll handle this mess.”

I squeeze Damini’s hand. “Am I not family now?” I ask her. Then I smile. “Let me do this, Damini. There is much that needs to be said between the two of us.”

I find Lady Fairmont fuming in the foyer as some of the Black Wolves and Rakshasa guards try to keep her contained. Her eldest brother, Fredrick, is blocking her way, but she is protesting fiercely and spewing her usual religious vitriol. Her younger brother, Gregory, stands beside her. Gregory just so happens to be Lord Commander of Irina’s Paladins and Chief Defender of the Faith. If he’s here, the Faith is clearly serious about trying to stop my marriage to Chirayu. The Rakshasa guards are trying to hold the Priestesses off at the door, and behind them are the Faith’s Paladins in plate armor, holding glaives at the ready.

When Lady Fairmont sees me, she goes quiet and still. Her eyes narrow and she tilts her chin up. “Little Delilah,” she whispers to me. “I’ve been waiting to see you.”

“Had I known you wanted to attend the wedding, I would have sent you an invitation.” I step towards her. “You didn’t have to force your way in. Nor did you need to bring the Priestesses or their thugs in steel plate.” Gregory sneers. Clearly he does not take well to being - quite rightly - referred to as a ‘thug’. 

“They have as much interest in stopping this atrocity as I, bastard. You don’t deserve this,” she hisses at me. “You know exactly what you are.” Her eyes on me are hateful and cold, and I haven’t missed that look. “A Blight such as yourself will do nothing but bring Irina’s ire. You’ll destroy all your father worked for. So I’ve come back to claim what is rightfully mine.”

“I have your paintings put away if you want them,” I sniff at her.

She lunges at me, grabbing me around the throat. “You vile, horrible thing! You were always a rotten child! Your father should have let me kill you and sacrifice you to Irina when he had the chance!”

She’s yanked away from me by two Black Wolves and I stare her down equally hatefully. I have so many speeches in my head prepared for her. I have so many things I want to say, so much to put her down like she did to me. I want to speak forcefully and hold myself higher than she ever could be. But in this moment none of those speeches come to me. I stand there shaking from anger and years of pent up agony. 

Two warm hands land on my shoulders, and I look up into Chirayu’s beautiful eyes. “Are you okay?” he whispers to me.

Tears slide down my cheeks as he kisses me. “I’m fine. I just want her gone.”

“So you’re the groom?” Lady Fairmont snarls. “I’m warning you, son, you could have any Rakshasa woman you could ask for. The Vineyards don’t need a heathen ruling them, let alone a Blighted bastard.”

“Irina doesn’t like the Rakshasa either?” Chirayu says with an indigent sniff. “I’m starting to think your goddess is more vile than I used to.”

“You do realize you’re going against the entire Rakshasa Country by doing this?” Damini hisses at Fredrick as she moves to stand beside Chirayu. “As it stands, you’re challenging a force you don’t want to take lightly!”

“Our sister is the rightful heir to the vineyard!” Fredrick roars, taking his glaive in hand. “She’s Lord Swaene’s widow! Just because that vile Brachuss is willing to grant these holdings to this… bastard, that doesn’t make it right in the eyes of Irina. Arjun was no leader before, and his Blight of a son is no king of ours!” He slams the hilt of his glaive down on the ground so hard that I can feel the vibrations in the soles of my feet.

“Irina will curse all of Ophirin if we don’t follow her law! We must do what is right in Irina’s eyes!” Fredrick lunges forward, and Chirayu puts himself between us. 

Chirayu is quiet for a moment. “You’re an idiot,” he snarls at our unwelcome guests. “Delilah is a blessing. She’s beautiful, kind, and strong, and she has done nothing but make my life brighter by being a part of it. Once we are married - and I will marry her fifty times if I have to, just to rub it in your conceited, ugly face - she will have more than you ever did. And I am not just talking about all this land, the vineyards, and all my own holdings.” He places his paw on his chest. “But she will also have me, and my love, and I will fight tooth and nail to make her happy.” He looks at me and smiles. “She’s the goddess here. I will obey her commands, not those of this Irina who brands children as a disease.”

He puts his arm around me. “You will apologize to her,” he growls. “Or I will see you have nothing to go home to.” He stands tall, well above Fredrick and Gregory. “I will burn your homes, your fields, your lives. I will scorch the earth so nothing grows and never will. Your lives will become swamps, wastelands, and I work to the last of my days to see to your misery while Delilah thrives and is loved.” His fangs are bared now, and I’ve never seen him so terrifying. “Apologize!” he roars.

“I would rather swallow ash that apologize to any one of you,” Lady Fairmont snaps. She lifts her nose into the air. 

“Even if you did speak it,” I whisper, “I wouldn’t believe a word of it. You come in here acting like a gaggle of entitled children. All my life I have seen your kind spew Irina’s rhetoric to justify your actions, no matter how terrible they were. You don’t care about what is right! You just care about what keeps you ignorant and blissful! Irina is no god at all! She’s just an excuse!”

“Take that back!” Fredrick raises his glaive towards me, and Chirayu moves me further behind him.

“You do not know the powers you are messing with,” Chirayu snarls in an ominous voice. “The Rakshasa are not a threat to take lightly.”

“We will take our chances, no risk is too high for Irina’s honor,” Gregory growls.

“Not yet,” Lady Fairmont whispers. She gently brushes aside her brothers, making them lower their weapons and standing in front of them. “You call Irina an excuse, but you stand behind these heathens just the same.”

At this point, Arlan and Mythri have come into the room. Along with their guards and the Black Wolves, they send me and Chirayu from the room. We get no apology, but that wasn’t something I ever expected. I got something much more from that encounter than I thought I ever needed.

“I love you,” I whisper to Chirayu, and kiss him.

“Do you?” He chuckles and meets my kisses giddily. “Thank you. I’m glad.”

I laugh and kiss him all over his face. “No one has ever stood up for me like that.” I wrap my arms around his neck. “Did you mean all of that?”

“Every word,” he kisses me. “I love you, and I will die making sure everyone knows.” He brushes his fingers against my cheek. “Are you okay?” He asks. “You seem shaken.”

I hold his hand to my face, “I’m fine,” I sigh. “I feel much better now.” I smile up at him. “I just need you.”

“We are alone,” Chirayu smirks. “It will be a while before the wedding.” He presses my back against the wall. “Shall we?”

I giggle and kiss him. “I would love to, but I don’t want to ruin this beautiful dress.”

“Ah yes!” Chirayu steps back and admires me. His expression goes soft and sweet, a look I am as used to as his customary smirk. 

“Do you like it?” I ask.

“Darling, I love it.” He places his hands around my hips. “You truly look like a goddess.” He then squeezes my rear, making me squeal.

“You’re awful!” I scoff at him. “You know what you said is blasphemy here. Irina is the only goddess.”

Chirayu scoffs. “I grew up being told my mother was a goddess. She’s the only goddess that scares me!” He then chuckles. “Aside from you.” He kisses my forehead. “I thought you said you didn’t believe in Irina.”

“I don’t, but… growing up with her was such a burdensome presence in my life. I believe in the fear.” I whisper to him. 

“There’s nothing to fear now, my love.” He wraps me up tight in his arms. “Anyone who dares try to harm a hair on your head will suffer my wrath.”

I sigh and relax in his embrace. “I don’t care about them anymore. I used to think my stepmother mattered, but now I realize I have more than she ever would. I feel sorry for her now.”

“That’s good.” Chirayu takes hold of my hands and leads me over to the bed. “Lift up your skirts,” he commands me. 

“Chirayu, no!” I cackle. “You’re horrible.”

“I simply want my wife like any intelligent husband does,” he smirks. “Just a little taste is all I want.”

“I’m not even your wife yet,” I snicker as he gathers up my skirts and pushes them up. 

“I’m impatient,” he growls. “And it will be hours before the actual wedding starts.” He peers up at me over the skirts and frills. “Do you take me as your husband?”

My heart is hammering so fast as I gaze into Chirayu’s eyes. “Of course I do.”

“Do I take you as my wife? You know I do!” He grins from ear to ear. “We’re married, so says the prince. Now open your legs.”

I cackle and howl as he pushes me down. “Chirayu! Stop!”

There’s a knock at the door, and Chiryu pulls my skirts down over his head as the door opens. 

“Have you seen Chirayu?” Damini asks. “I’ve been looking for him, and I-” she stops and glares. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Hi, sis,” Chirayu waves from under the skirts.

“Never mind, just-” Damini pinches the bridge of her nose. “Mom and Dad are looking for you. Just talk to them.” She leaves, and Chirayu rises up from the floor.

“Oh well,” he huffs. “I guess we have to continue being patient.” He grumbles.

I rise up beside him and kiss his hand. “Thank you for making me laugh,” I whisper. “It means the world to me.”

Chirayu smiles down at me. “I knew you were nervous,” he replies. “I just wanted to see you smile.”