Prologue

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The sun dips low in the sky, ducking behind the hills and casting red, orange, and yellow across the wide sky. A paw shifts into vision, unsheathed claws scraping the smooth stone below. "No." 

No. No. 

The tom laughs heartfully, eyes shining with a mixture between shock and amusement. No. That word hadn't been uttered to him since he started ruling this clan, this kingdom. No. 

"No? Oh really?" he questions coldly, body shaking with laughter, "No?" 

The she-cat stands over three small, shuffling bodies. Her tail is tucked between her legs, brushing protectively over their small forms. 

"No," She repeats, louder, clearer, "not again." The tom cackles, unable to contain himself. This is funny. Hilarious, even. 

"I don't care what you want," the tom spits sharply, "this is for the best, the best that you focus." 

The she-cat's throat goes abruptly dry, and she feels an idea coming on. First, she forces her posture calm, and she pushes down her bristling fur. "Fine," she all but whispers, "but I'll tell the whole kingdom. All four clans. I'll tell every cat." 

The tom freezes, eyes wide. His fur bristles. "I'd kill you, just like those kits." 

The she-cat's eyes flash with fear, which she quickly tries to bury. "I know you won't." The tom cat smirks. 

"Oh really?" 

The tom-cat steps forward, shifting his paws so that his claws glimmer in the moonlight. The she-cat feels adrenaline pump through her, and she flicks her long plumed tail. 

And with one paw, she raises her claws and rakes them across the tom's muzzle. 

He reels back, surprise mixing with anger. The she-cat breaths heavy, hiccuping, breathes. The male cat blinks, scoffing at the blood welling from the cut. He smirks. 

"Fine," he says slowly, "you've won." 

You've won. 

The she-cat curls her thickened tail around her kits. He's lying. He always does. "Leave now, please." The begging is pathetic, but in a way the she-cat feels victorious, like the tom's words hold any truth. 

The father of the three blink at the queen's harsh words, as though the previous scene had never happened. And then he purrs. "What are their names?" 

The she-cat nearly gasps, but she sucks it back. "I'm not telling you." The tom grins as if they were apprentices again. As if the alliance had never occurred. 

"They are still my kits," he says slowly, threateningly, "and whatever you do, I will get to them." 

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