Thirty | Marionette

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"I'm taking back the day you tried to steal from me.
I'm going to make my voice, you'll never get my choice to breathe
"  

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Everyone stared at Kitty like she'd gone mad. Her heart was hammering in its cage, her fingers twirling and twisting. Inside her mind was chaos. Voices telling her she'd made a bad move – that she shouldn't have trusted Gabriel. Others telling her that she they'd hurt her. There were even some voices congratulating her; that Gabriel would have a solution.

Kitty needed to silence the voices. They were freaking her out; her mind was chaotic enough already.

"That's quite the tale you've... spun." Gabriel spoke. He didn't believe her. Kitty didn't blame him (as irritated as she was at his response). She didn't even fully believe it herself – that news was still sinking it. But her father, to her recollection, had never lied to her. With something as important as a child with royalty – it was a subject nobody toyed with. Even when the royal family had been executed for almost two decades.

"It's not a story." She kept her voice balanced. Tried not to let frustration reveal itself. Who knew what Caleb was cooking up for Brandon? Caleb must know that by hurting Brandon, he'd hurt Kitty. Or what about the mystery person who saved her? Had they been uncovered? And what about Eden? Had she gone to the pack house in search of Kitty? "Why would I lie? What reason do I have for lying?"

"You're–," One of the men behind Gabriel started to speak.

"Just because I am Samuel Flowers' daughter, it does not make me like him." A growl reverberated through her chest. Her hand slammed onto the chair's wooden handle. It snapped under the force. She let out a shocked gasp, and stared at her hand. It was slightly red and stinging but there was no real pain. Distantly, she heard raised voices and turned her attention back to the situation on hand. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing much." Raphael looked at her cautiously. His eyes flitted down to the damaged chair. Her cheeks started to heat up. "One of them suggested war, and now they've all decided they all know what's best."

"War?" No. That was the worst decision anyone could make. Gabriel had already lost many wolves. He couldn't lose any more. Not while he was trying to build the pack back up.

"No." She shook her head. "No, they can't go to war."

"If your father really assaulted a princess, then they have every reason." Raphael shrugged. "You should know that." And she did – she really understood it. But she also knew that fighting against her father was not the way to go. He had at least a dozen packs who would back him up (she used that term loosely). Not to mention who Caleb could round up – he might have been a psycho, but there was a clever streak hidden somewhere. She shook her head again. "Alright then, what do you suggest?"

Letting out a small sigh, she looked round the room. Gabriel's gaze was burning into the desk, both hands massaging his temples. The other men were all shouting; each trying to drown the others. Micah's arms flapped about as he tried to calm them down. She couldn't be responsible for putting these wolves in danger; for their lives to be put on the line.

"I... I don't know." She'd never needed to suggest a plan. Didn't even know where to start. "But we can't fight him."

"We?" Raphael sounded surprised. "But–,"

"If my dad is capable of doing... that to a child, locking me up after listening to one pack member and for banishing a sixteen year old... I worry what else he's got planned." She admitted. Another sigh left her mouth. "But I have no idea what we can do to stop him." The arguing still hadn't lessened. If anything, it had gotten worse. Everyone's faces were red, and even Gabriel was trying to calm them down. "We need to outsmart him."

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