Previously On Hooked on A Feline
T he story kicks off with me freezing my tail off in a park, waiting for Taurus, the infuriatingly smug enigma who just might hold the answers I’ve been chasing for years.
Two years as the leader of the Resistance, and I’ve grown used to shouldering the impossible—holding the group together, fighting The Cabal’s grip on The Rift, and now keeping my Beast under control.
But my personal quest? That’s the one thing I haven’t cracked.
My transformation into a half-human, half-cat hybrid still feels like a cosmic joke, and Taurus might be the only one with the punchline.
When he finally shows up, radiating his signature blend of arrogance and power, I don’t bother hiding my irritation. Leading a rebellion against an all-powerful organization has left me with zero patience for games. I’m here for answers about my mutation, and while Taurus is as evasive as ever, I rattle him by demonstrating my accelerated healing ability.
It’s a small win, but in this game, I take what I can get. He’s not ready to give me the whole truth, but I leave with enough to keep digging.
The Beast within me has been my constant companion through all of this. It’s not just a side effect of my transformation—it’s a force I have to wrestle with every day.
As the leader of the Resistance, I’ve mastered the art of staying calm under pressure, but The Beast is always there, lurking, waiting for a moment of weakness to take over. It’s exhausting, but giving in isn’t an option. The Resistance depends on me to keep it together.
Taurus becomes a reluctant ally in my search for answers, though “reluctant” doesn’t quite capture the vibe. He’s frustratingly cryptic, but he knows more than he lets on, and his personal stakes—protecting his mate Talia—give me leverage. Talia’s near-death experience last year left Taurus desperate, and my healing abilities offer him a glimmer of hope. I promise to help if she’s ever in danger again, and in return, I piece together the larger picture.
The “Creation” that made the clones is tied to The Rift, a pocket dimension where The Company conducts its experiments (not that the inhabitants know that’s what they’re doing).
I’ve always known The Rift is a playground for The Company’s twisted ambitions. Clones, pulled from alternate timelines and reshaped, populate this world, each a fragment of their original selves. Taurus and his fellow clones aren’t just connected by DNA—they’re variations of the same person, split across realities.
It’s a mind-bending truth that only deepens the mystery of my existence, because I’m not one of them. I’m something else entirely.
The Resistance formed to fight back against The Cabal’s control, and for two years, I’ve kept it afloat through sheer determination.
Trust is a scarce commodity in this world, and alliances shift as easily as sand in a storm. My circle is as chaotic as the world we’re fighting in. Rhea and Sari, two of my closest allies, develop similar mutant powers to mine that threaten to spiral out of control.
I take Rhea on a hunting expedition with Taurus, hoping to teach her discipline, but it only highlights the fractures in our group. Power dynamics, jealousy, and manipulation swirl around us, and keeping everyone on the same page feels like herding cats—pun very much intended.
Taurus complicates everything. I’ve built my leadership on clarity and focus, but he shakes me in ways I don’t like to admit. He’s arrogant, infuriating, and maddeningly magnetic. Our bond grows stronger, but it’s a constant source of friction. He challenges me in ways no one else does, forcing me to confront the parts of myself I’d rather ignore. It’s a strange, volatile connection that feels equal parts strength and vulnerability.
My search for a solution to The Beast takes a turn when I finally face the truth: The Company’s tech will not help me. If they had the answers, they would know I’m a walking threat to everything in this little reality and come for me. That realization hits hard, but it pushes me to explore a different path—one rooted in the old ways, in gods, goddesses, and magic.
It’s a long shot, but if science can’t fix me, maybe something divine can.
The ritual becomes my last-ditch effort to rid myself of The Beast. It’s meant to be a renewal ceremony, a calling down of power from the gods and goddesses of The Rift.
As the leader, I’m supposed to guide it with calm authority, but inside, I’m anything but calm. I’ve kept my desperation hidden from the others, but this ritual is personal. I don’t just want to renew energy or please some deity—I want to excise the part of me that feels like it’s eating me alive.
The ceremony is chaos, as expected.
The Rift itself feels alive, its energy volatile and unpredictable, as though it’s mocking our attempt to control it. I pour everything I have into the ritual, invoking every god and goddess I can think of, begging them to take The Beast from me. The power of a goddess surges through me, overwhelming and raw, and for a moment, I think it’s working.
The Beast seems to calm at the beginning of the ritual, and I feel a glimmer of hope.
But the gods, it seems, have a sense of humor.
Instead of banishing The Beast, the ritual leaves me more connected to it than ever. It’s not gone—it’s integrated. The primal force I’ve fought for so long is now a part of my magic, my identity, my power. The realization is both freeing and terrifying.
I can’t escape what I’ve become, but maybe I don’t need to.
The aftermath of the ritual is sobering. The Resistance still faces the constant threat of my two-faced allies, and my leadership is more critical than ever. The cracks in our group deepen, and I’m forced to make tough decisions that weigh heavily on me. My bond with Taurus grows stronger, though it remains complicated and messy. He sees me—both the leader and the Beast—and somehow; he doesn’t flinch.
It’s infuriating and comforting in equal measure.
By the end, I stand on the precipice of something new. I’m no longer running from The Beast or what it means to me.
I’m Delilah—leader, fighter, and survivor.
The path ahead is uncertain, but for the first time, I feel ready to walk it on my own terms, claws and all.