Slate moved against him. “Gray Wing.” Her mew was hard with pain. “The kits are coming.”
He looked down. She lay panting beside him, her swollen belly resting against his flank. He stared at her, unsure what to do.
“Get Reed!” Slate growled. “Hurry!”
Gray Wing darted to the entrance and crossed the clearing in a few bounds. “Reed?” He poked his head into the tom’s den.
Reed was curled around Minnow, his eyes closed.
“Reed!” Gray Wing called louder.
Reed lifted his head and blinked into the light. “What?”
“The kits are coming!” Gray Wing told him.
Minnow sat up sharply. “I’ll fetch Wind Runner. She’s had more experience.”
Gray Wing blinked at her, remembering how their leader had helped at Star Flower’s kitting. As
Minnow slid past him, he stared at Reed. “Have you helped at a kitting before?”
“When I was a rogue.” Reed’s gaze darkened ominously.
Gray Wing stiffened. “What happened?”
“The kits were fine.” Reed nosed past him, avoiding his gaze. “But the queen died.”
Gray Wing’s heart lurched as he hurried after the silver tabby “Why? How?”
“She was sick before she had the kits.” Reed turned to meet Gray Wing’s gaze. “Slate’s as healthy as a hawk. She’ll be fine.” He raced across the clearing.
Gray Wing tried to calm his racing heart, remembering Turtle Tail’s kitting. He’d arrived after the kits were born and still remembered his panic as though it was yesterday. He forced his fur flat. When he got anxious, his breathing got worse. He couldn’t afford to be slowed down. Slate needed him. But what if he lost her? What if something happened to the kits? Suddenly he understood the desperation Clear Sky must have felt when Star Flower had been kidnapped.
Paws pounded across the clearing. Wind Runner whipped past him and disappeared into the den after Reed.
Gray Wing pushed his head inside. The two cats were crouching beside Slate, who lay on her side, her round flanks heaving.
“Everything will be fine,” Wind Runner told her.
“We’ve both delivered kits before,” Reed added.
“It’s the simplest thing in the world,” Wind Runner purred. “Countless queens have kitted for countless moons.”
Gray Wing tensed as he saw pain cloud Slate’s gaze. “She’s suffering!” he gasped.
Wind Runner turned and blinked at him slowly. “Wait outside, Gray Wing.”
“But—”
“You’ll be little help here,” she insisted.
“But I want to be with her.” Gray Wing stared at the group leader.
“Go and pace the clearing,” Reed told him. “Get as much fresh air into your chest as you can.
Once it’s over, you’re going to need your breath to greet your new kits.”
Slate groaned, her paws quivering.
“The first kit’s on its way.” Wind Runner jerked her nose toward Gray Wing. “Wait outside!”
Obediently, Gray Wing backed out of the den. Every instinct told him to barge inside and crouch beside Slate. But Reed was right. He needed fresh air and a chance to calm himself. Unable to stand still, he padded between the tussocks. The fresh moor wind lifted his fur. There was a chill in it, and he glanced toward the horizon. Pale blue sky shaded into pink where the sun was pushing up from beyond the trees. Cold weather was coming.
“Gray Wing?” Fern bounded toward him. “Minnow says the kits are coming.” She glanced toward his den.
Gray Wing nodded. Cats were stirring around the camp. Gorse Fur blinked from his den. Dust
Muzzle and Moth Flight stretched in a thin patch of sunlight beside the tall rock. Spotted Fur pawed through the remains of the prey pile while Bee watched him, her eyes narrowed. Was that scorn in the rogue she-cat’s gaze?
Fern interrupted his thoughts. “Do you want toms or she-kits?” Her eyes were bright with excitement.
Gray Wing stared at her blankly. “I hadn’t thought about it.” Any kits would be wonderful.
“Willow says that kits born in leaf-bare are the strongest.” Fern lifted her tail. “I was born in leaf-bare.”
Gray Wing could hardly concentrate on her chatter, but it was good to see the young she-cat so cheerful. She’d been mourning Beech since her death, and though she’d eagerly joined in with camp duties, there had been slowness in her step and sadness in her eyes. This morning, she seemed truly happy for the first time since he’d known her. Her pelt was sleek, and lean muscle hid the bones that had once jutted out beneath her fur. “Life on the moor seems to suit you,” he told her.
Fern purred. “I love living here. Being part of your group is so different from living in Slash’s camp. Everyone is so kind, and Wind Runner is so wise.” She paused. “But sometimes I see her looking at me like she doesn’t trust me.” Her gaze darkened. “Have I done something wrong?”
Gray Wing felt a prick of sympathy for Fern. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Wind Runner will take time to learn to trust you. But once she does, she’ll be as loyal as your own mother.”
Fern looked away. “My mother abandoned me and Beech.”
“Is that how you ended up with Slash?”
Fern didn’t answer, her tail drooping.
Gray Wing moved on, guilty that he’d awoken bad memories. “Well, you’re here now. We’re your new family.”
“Willow’s, too?” Fern glanced at the pale tabby she-cat as she emerged sleepily from her den.
“And Bee’s?”
“Of course.” Gray Wing lowered his voice as he eyed the yellow-and-black-striped she-cat. She was still watching Spotted Fur disdainfully as he gnawed on a stale shrew. “But you need to persuade
Bee to volunteer for more camp duties. We all have to help patrol and hunt.”
Fern shifted her paws uneasily. “I’ll try,” she promised. “But Bee says she doesn’t—”
“Gray Wing!” Wind Runner interrupted the young she-cat. “Come and see your kits.”
“Already?” Excitement fizzed through his pelt. He hurried across the clearing and dived into his den.
Slate lay in her nest and blinked at him through the half-light. Her eyes glistened with joy. Gray Wing met her gaze, his heart swelling with love. Then he glanced along her flank. Three tiny kits suckled at her belly. He padded closer, sniffing them one by one. A dark gray tom-kit pushed against his pale gray tabby sister. Beside her, another tom-kit purred loudly, his black-and-white pelt fluffing as it dried.
“They’re beautiful.” A purr swelled in Gray Wing’s throat. Love filled his heart. He was surprised how familiar it felt. He’d expected to feel different about his own kits. With a jolt, he realized how much he’d loved Turtle Tail’s kits, and his heart seemed to flood with joy. I’ve known so much love! He glanced fondly at Slate. “I promise to teach them how to hunt and keep them safe until they are as strong and brave as their mother.”
Her eyes glowed as she returned his gaze. “They are lucky to have you as their father. You’ve raised so many kits, and they’ve all grown into fine cats.”
Wind Runner dipped her head. “We should leave you in peace to get to know your new family.”
Leaning down, she lapped Slate’s cheek. “You did well.”
Reed nodded at Gray Wing. “I’ll take a hunting patrol out. Slate will be hungry soon.” The silver tabby padded from the den, Wind Runner at his tail.
Gray Wing settled behind Slate, curling himself around her as she nursed their kits. The air throbbed with their purring, and he joined in until the whole den seemed to resonate with joy.