Hi readers
Here is the next chapter in the story. Sorry it has taken so long to be posted but I do this in my spare time and my hobbies and grandchildren take up a good deal of my time.
This chapter is once again from Kurt's point of view
Mygypsy
*****
The rich coppery aroma of blood does nothing to hide the smell of rage, pain and fear as I straighten my back and roll my shoulders to eliminate some of the tension in my body. Before me the naked, bloody body of Wade Williamson is tied spread-eagled and face down to a wooden bench. I still hold the bloody knife in my left hand as I watch him for a minute or so to ensure he is still breathing.
Wade's back is a raw mess from the top of his shoulders down to just beneath where his trousers would sit. I doubt there is any skin left beneath the blood covered area. Sam had systematically plied the whip not only to sliced away skin but also in heavy slashes that laid open Wade's back down into the muscles.
Between his legs his scrotum still remains but it is collapsed in on itself, a red slit either side evidence it is empty. Due to blood loss I have been forced to stop short of removing the empty scrotum but his two testicles rest on the bench inches away from his face. I had made sure he saw them before heavy blood loss and pain rendered him unconscious.
A werecat is capable of enduring a lot of pain and abuse before passing out or dying and both Sam and I had pushed Wade very close to his limits.
"Is he still alive?" Cantrell asks as he steps forward.
I turn my head slowly to look at him, he is pale and I catch the slight smell that tells me he is one of those I heard retching when I had used the sharp knife I held. I take a deep breath and give a sharp nod.
"He's alive," I confirm, "But he's gonna take one hell of a long time to recover from this."
I glance past Cantrell to where Mal, Don, Maurice and Martin stand not far in front of Edwin Williamson who is chained to the wall to watch the punishment.
"It's a shame he's still breathing," Maurice Donnelly mutters under his breath.
Almost instantly I am standing in front of Maurice snarling as I glare into his face, I can feel my hand clenching around the knife I hold as I choke down my rage at this tom who wants to interfere with the punishment.
"What? Did I deprive the Board of a spate of nice clean executions to sweep this sorbed business under the carpet and from their minds?" I snarl savagely. "What would have been enough?"
I step back and glance around the five who felt they held some kind of power.
"Wade and Marissa dead? Him," I jerk the knife I hold in a motion towards Edwin Williamson, "killed by friendly claws on some work assignment? Micah Williamson and the rest of his brothers ambushed and murdered? What of Jasmine Williamson? Kill her too? Or would it be the hysterectomy some of the Board have been pushing for because of her illness?"
I fall silent as Maurice Donnelly drops his eyes slightly to avoid my stare. I can hear Sam growling deep in his throat. An angry, rage filled sound at the threat to the clan that accepted him and his brother as young kitts and raised them. Rage fills me and I fling the knife behind me as I take a huge breath.
"Nooooooooo!" The word comes out more of a roar than a yell and all five toms take at least several steps back from me. Some part of my brain even notes Edwin pressing back against the brick wall behind him.
"You will not ... circle like vultures!" I snarl as I step forward, my head tilting forward slightly and my eyes narrowing as my inner cat demands to be released.
"You will not do a single damned thing to hinder that Clan! You forget to what family nearly half of that land actually belongs! I will stand behind Jasmine Williamson and whatever tom she marries. The Board will make no further moves against any of them!" I warn as I pace from side to side.
"Kurt, we are concerned ..." Cantrell begins in a serious voice.
"DO NOT PUSH ME ON THIS!" My yell becomes a roar as my inner cat surges forward and into control.
I feel my clothes ripping and my body feels as if it has been blown apart from the inside. The gasps from those in front of me fill my ears and through the blur of my changing sight I catch the slight movements as three of them turn their heads away from the sight of me. My front feet hit the floor and I arch my back slightly as I dig my claws into the wooden floor beneath me. I fling my head up and roar my rage. I wait until all remnants of my roar have faded before I roar again, and again and again.
"You won't get any arguments from me," Don Curtis says when the room is finally silent.
"It is Mitchell McIntosh who will be marrying Jasmine," Mal Inness says with a faint smile.
"There a problem Dad?" Dave asks from the doorway.
I glance that way to see Blake and several of our warriors behind him, they must have heard my roars from outside. I give my head a brief shake before glancing at Wade then turning my head to look at Dave intently.
"I'll go get a medic," Dave says interrupting my look correctly.
"Well, since all matters before the Board have been settled we might as well go home." Martin Francis says quietly as if to avoid drawing attention to himself.
I huff slightly and trot to the doorway to stop anyone leaving the room. I take a deep breath and begin the process to change back to human form. Even while I change the speed with which I had became a cat drifts through my mind. I have changed fast before, but always in private and never in front of anyone outside of my own family. Still the speed of my transformation had never taken just a few seconds like it had just minutes earlier. Never. But then my inner cat had never seized control before. Always I had kept a balance between both sides of my nature.
When I am once again on two feet and in human form I dust my hands off and glance between the five that had formed the representation of the governing board.
"I trust gentlemen," I say quietly, "that there will be no problems from here on with any members of the Williamson clan. And oh, I'll give you fair warning now, my niece will not be railroaded into some ... convenient marriage."
"Arrangements have already been made between Ray Macintosh and Alan Cummings in regards to Rosy MacIntosh," Cantrell says in an attempt at firmness even though his voice trembles slightly.
"Samuel, do you remember either your opinion, or that of your brother, being asked before this ... arrangement was made?" I ask as I smile coldly and curl my top lip without breaking eye contact with Cantrell.
"No," Sam answers in a hard voice.
