He plunged into the fight, claws stretched. Pushing his way to the middle, he flipped over and began hitting out with every paw. He felt a soft body beneath him and smelled fear-scent. Slate! He fought harder, wincing as claws hooked into his pelt and scratched his cheek. Screwing up his eyes, he lashed out, desperate with fear. He felt Slate wriggle from underneath him. Suddenly she was on her paws, pressing against his flank as faces snarled around them.
“Tail to tail!” Slate hissed.
Gray Wing seemed to read her thoughts. As he reared, she reared, and he pressed his spine against hers. Back to back, they battered their attackers with a flurry of paws. Rain lashing his face, Gray Wing flung one hefty blow after another, bracing himself against Slate as she braced against him. Gradually, the blur of claws and faces grew clearer. Slash swung a paw at him, then turned to a black-and-brown tom. “Go for the legs, Beetle!” he hissed.
Gray Wing moved just in time as the rogue dived at his hind leg. Balancing on a single paw, he kicked out, slashing his hind claws against the rogue’s cheek. The tom ducked away, yelping with pain, and reared, fury in his eyes.
Gray Wing felt his breath tighten. No! Panic gripped him. Not now! He had to keep fighting. Slate was fending off the other two rogues behind him. A black tom was on top of Dust Muzzle, who shrieked with pain as the orange she-cat jerked his hind leg between her jaws. He’s using all the right moves, but he’s too young to fight off two grown cats. Horror hollowed Gray Wing’s belly. He wheezed, fighting for air.
“Wind Runner!” Hope sparked in Slate’s mew.
The camp leader burst from the heather, Gorse Fur at her heels. She leaped toward Dust Muzzle and hooked her claws into one of the rogue tom’s shoulders. With a grunt, she heaved him off and wrestled him to the ground.
Dust Muzzle struggled from beneath the black tom and turned on him, paws flailing.
Gorse Fur barged between Slash and his campmates. Rearing, he moved between Slate and Gray Wing and began swiping at the rogues. “We chased Splinter off!” he shouted, struggling to be heard over the sounds of battle. “He won’t be coming back anytime soon.”
That’s one gone. Gray Wing thought grimly. Only seven to go. He raised a paw as Slash swung a blow toward his cheek. He blocked it and pressed harder against Gorse Fur and Slate. His hind paws felt weak as he struggled for breath. I need air! Claws raked his nose as his concentration slipped for a moment. How long could he keep this up? Gorse Fur lashed out at Beetle while Slate fended off the orange tom. Gray Wing glanced down as the tortoiseshell she-cat dived for his hind leg. He snatched it away, but too slowly. Her teeth sank into his flesh. Pain shot like lightning through his leg. With a grunt, he collapsed onto the grass. Paws slammed onto his flank. Rank breath billowed past his cheek.
Slash was on top of him.
Help!
As he flailed desperately, a familiar yowl rang through the air.
Reed! Through a flurry of paws, he glimpsed his campmate’s silver fur streaking from the heather.
Minnow, Spotted Fur, and Moth Flight hurtled out after him. The air seemed to explode as they crashed into the attacking rogues.
Gray Wing dug his hind paws into Slash’s belly and heaved. But Slash was clinging hard with thorn-sharp claws. Slash snarled in his ear as he sank his teeth into Gray Wing’s neck and rolled him across the grass. Gray Wing thrashed in terror. He gulped for breath, but his chest was so tight he couldn’t draw in air. The world seemed to shrink as darkness closed around him. Breathe! I must breathe! He struggled to stay conscious, hardly aware of Slash or the pain.
Suddenly the weight of the rogue was gone. Gray Wing lay as helpless as a fish hooked from the river. As he gasped for breath, his mind reeled. What if he couldn’t get enough air? Around him, the yowl of battle ebbed away; darkness clouded his vision as rain soaked his pelt. Am I dying? Then, slowly, the stone jaws clasping his chest began to loosen. He drew in shallow breaths, which deepened one by one. His panic eased as he felt the world open around him once more. The grass beneath his cheek swam into vision. Lying limply on his side, he became aware of Slate.
“Gray Wing?” She was leaning over him, her warm breath on his muzzle. “Gray Wing!” Fear edged her mew.
He grunted, wanting desperately to reassure her.
Paws slithered to a halt beside him. “We chased them off.” Wind Runner sounded pleased. “They won’t come back in a hurry.”
“Is Gray Wing okay?” Moth Flight’s voice sounded beside him.
“I don’t know!” Slate was trembling.
Gray Wing pulled in a shuddering breath and blinked at her. “I’ll be fine,” he whispered hoarsely.
Moth Flight was sniffing his pelt. “Slash has given him a nasty bite, but it will clean up nicely.”
“It’s a good thing you pulled Slash off him when you did, Slate.” Wind Runner peered down at him, her eyes dark with concern.
Numb, Gray Wing rolled onto his paws and crouched, belly to the grass. He wanted to stand but didn’t have the strength.
“Just rest there,” Slate soothed.
“Thank you,” Gray Wing wheezed. “For saving me.”
“I had to,” Slate purred. “I couldn’t let anything happen to the father of my kits.”
Gray Wing stiffened. “Your kits?” Confused, he stared at her. Turtle Tail was the mother of his kits. And they weren’t really his kits. Hazily, he tried to understand.
“I’m going to have your kits,” Slate explained softly.
Shock heated Gray Wing’s pelt.
“Is it so surprising?” Slate purred.
Gray Wing lifted his chin and gazed at her in wonder. “My kits,” he breathed. Joy flooded his heart like sunshine filling the sky. He was going to be a father. He purred a clumsy, wheezing purr.
“My love,” he murmured, burying his nose in Slate’s thick, warm fur. “Thank you.”
Chapter 12
“It will be safe if we wait until dark,” Lightning Tail muttered.
Thunder glanced at his friend as they padded between the pines. He knew Lightning Tail was right, but his paws itched to return to Slash’s camp so much that he was willing to take the risk. “If we wait until dark, we might miss something.”
“What’s there to miss?” Thin shards of sunlight dappled Lightning Tail’s pelt. “We know that Slash is planning to steal our prey and drive us out of the forest.”
But I have to see Violet again! Thunder had hardly slept in the days following the attack on the moor cats. All he could think of was Violet. What if she’d been hurt in the struggle? When Gray Wing had visited the camp to share the news, his muzzle had been covered in scratches. He’d thanked Thunder for the warning—being prepared had helped them fend the rogues off—but even so, it must have been a vicious fight.
He avoided Lightning Tail’s gaze. “If you don’t want to come with me, that’s fine.” Why should he put his friend in danger?
“I’m not letting you go there alone. It’s not safe.” Lightning Tail sniffed. “I just wish you’d admit why you really want to go there.”
Thunder stopped walking. He flicked his ears self-consciously.
Lightning Tail turned and stared at him. “You want to see her again.” His whiskers twitched.