Dovepaw fought the urge to stare at her paws.
“What happened?” he asked.
She glanced up at the log. It was still in one piece. “I heard a crack,” she mewed apologetically. “I thought it was about to break.”
Tigerheart followed her gaze, squinting a little. “Wow,” he breathed.
“Wow?”
“Can you see that tiny split?”
Dovepaw looked harder and saw in the moonlight a small, fresh crack in the log.
“You’ve got even sharper ears than I thought.” Tigerheart’s whiskers twitched. “You saved my life!” He scrambled to his paws and began to circle her, tail high, a purr in his voice. “Without you, I’d be dead now. You’re my hero. How can I possibly thank you?”
Dovepaw lifted her chin, playing along. “You must bring me mice,” she mewed haughtily. “And a fresh squirrel every day for a moon. And new moss for my nest. And…” She flicked his chin with her tail-tip. “You must follow me around all day and pick the burrs out of my pelt.”
The playfulness drained from Tigerheart’s warm amber gaze. Dovepaw tensed, wondering if she’d teased him too much.
“I’d gladly do all that for you.” His mew was as steady as his gaze. “You didn’t have to save my life first.”
Dovepaw stared back. “I didn’t really save your life,” she whispered. “It was just a tiny crack. That log could still hold your weight.”
“Maybe,” Tigerheart agreed. “But you were worried about me. That means you care, right?” Dovepaw saw doubt flicker in the young ShadowClan warrior’s gaze. “I mean, you care more than if we were just friends?” he pressed.
Dovepaw swallowed. For the first time she actually felt like she had the power of the stars in her paws.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I care.” Her heart twisted in her chest, half in pain, half in joy. “I shouldn’t, but I do.”
A purr rose deep in her chest as Tigerheart leaned forward and touched his muzzle to hers. Their breath billowed into a single cloud. He twisted his tail around hers, and warmth spread beneath her pelt.
Tigerheart sighed. “We’d better get back, before we’re missed.” He pulled away, but only far enough to let her get to her paws. Together they padded to the nest entrance, fur brushing fur.
They paused on the smooth rock, and Dovepaw stared out at the forest stretching down toward the distant lake. “This is going to work, right?”
“Yes,” Tigerheart promised. “No boundaries are ever going to be strong enough to separate us.”
Dovepaw blinked at him. “Really?” She wanted to believe it. She had to believe it. Nothing had ever felt so important.
“Let’s meet again before half-moon,” Tigerheart suggested.
“Tomorrow.” Dovepaw felt bold.
“Do you think we could leave camp two nights in a row?” Tigerheart’s eyes widened. “You’d take that risk?”
“It’s worth it.” She brushed his cheek with her nose. His scent felt warm on her tongue. He was hers now. He didn’t belong to ShadowClan. They belonged to each other.
“What about your denmates?” Tigerheart pulled away. “They’ll notice you’ve gone.”
“It’s just Ivypaw now.” Dovepaw hooked a clump of moss from Tigerheart’s pelt. “She won’t tell.”
She felt him stiffen. “Ivypaw?”
A cold stone dropped in Dovepaw’s belly. Suddenly she remembered the look her sister had shared with Tigerheart during the battle. “D-do you know Ivypaw?”
Tigerheart flicked a strand of dried grass awkwardly from her shoulder. “I’ve seen her at Gatherings.”
“But nothing more than that?” Dovepaw demanded.
Tigerheart sat back and looked her straight in the eye. “Do you mean, have I ever asked to meet her in the middle of the night, and brought her here to risk my life on collapsing logs?” He tipped his head. “Let me think…”
Dovepaw fought the urge to shove him.
“…No. I’m pretty sure I haven’t.” He touched his nose to her ear. “There’s only one sister I’m interested in.”
His breath was warm. How could she have doubted him? He’d risked so much, coming here and confessing his feelings. She must have imagined the look in the battle with ShadowClan.
I trust him.
“Come on.” She led the way down the slope until they reached the deeper forest, where he fell in beside her and pulled brambles from her path. She felt wistful as the scents of their Clans grew stronger, and when she began to recognize the trees along the border, her heart began to ache. Tomorrow night seemed a lifetime away. As they reached the clump of beech where they’d met, their steps slowed.
“It’ll be tomorrow before you know it,” Tigerheart murmured gently. He must have been sharing her thoughts.
She touched her muzzle to his. “See you then,” she whispered.
“Definitely,” he meowed. “Sweet dreams.”
Chapter 12
The dawn was bright, and Lionblaze watched as Brambleclaw and Firestar stood below Highledge, their Clanmates pacing eagerly around them.
“Dustpelt, Toadstep, and Foxleap,” Firestar called. “Hunt by the Ancient Oak. Sandstorm, Whitewing, and Birchfall, flush anything out of the moorland you can without crossing the WindClan border.”
Dovepaw yawned. “Are we hunting or training today?”
“Both.” Lionblaze wondered why she looked so sleepy. “I’m taking you out with Cinderheart and Ivypaw.” He’d planned the training session with Cinderheart last night as they’d wandered along the moonlit lakeshore. “We want to see how you manage hunting in snow.” His thoughts drifted back to the previous night. Cinderheart’s pelt had shone in the moonlight, and the stars had glittered as though the sky were as frosted as the hills. “Then we are more than friends?” he had whispered into Cinderheart’s ear.
She’d pressed her cheek to his. “Hadn’t you guessed?”
“I’d hoped.”
She’d purred and wrapped her tail around his. “Mouse-brain.”
“Graystripe.” Firestar’s mew broke into his remembering. “Take Millie, Brightheart, and Blossomfall and hunt by the lake.”
Across the clearing, Ivypaw was circling Cinderheart excitedly. The apprentice had grown and filled out in the last moon. Lionblaze narrowed his eyes. Today’s training wasn’t just about seeing Dovepaw hunt. He wanted to observe Ivypaw. Jayfeather had persuaded him to wait and see how her visits to the Dark Forest changed her. He’d agreed and had promised not to challenge the young cat yet. But he wasn’t completely convinced that they shouldn’t intervene. Cinderheart had been fretting over the injuries that appeared fresh each day on her apprentice. Ivypaw had told her mentor that she had fallen out of her nest, or run into brambles while practicing her hunting moves outside the hollow. Clearly the Dark Forest warriors were training the young cat hard.
Firestar issued more instructions. “Squirrelflight, Brackenfur, and Mousewhisker, you can hunt along the banks of the stream. There may be voles.”
As the warriors headed for the entrance, Daisy came hurrying across the clearing. Molekit and Cherrykit scampered at her heels. “There’ll be no warriors left in camp at this rate,” she called to the ThunderClan leader. “The hollow will be empty except for elders and kits. What if ShadowClan decides to take its revenge?”
Cherrykit reared onto her hind legs and boxed at the air. “I’ll shred them.”
Molekit pressed against Daisy’s long cream fur. “I’ll tear off their tails.”
“Thank you, little ones.” Daisy’s eyes darkened with worry as she stared at Firestar. “Well?”
Firestar shook his head. “ShadowClan’s warriors won’t attack undefended kits and elders.”