“Of course you can trust me! I love you and I love my Clan. I would never do anything to hurt you or them.” The Sisters’ life seemed suddenly appealing. The idea that Moonlight would invent pointless rules for Snow and the others to follow seemed ridiculous. Bramblestar was supposed to be her mate. Why couldn’t he
Bramblestar sniffed. “I’m just worried that your judgment is not as sound as it should be.”
“Not sound?” Squirrelflight stared at him in disbelief. “Because I came up with a plan and tried to follow it through?”
“Because your plan put SkyClan and ThunderClan in danger.” He stared at her accusingly.
“The Sisters aren’t a danger to any—” She stopped as she noticed Sparkpelt staring at them from the edge of the clearing.
The orange warrior’s gaze flicked anxiously from Bramblestar to Squirrelflight. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course.” Squirrelflight forced her fur to smooth and hurried toward Sparkpelt. “We were just discussing patrols.”
Sparkpelt looked doubtful. “I wanted to talk to you both,” she mewed hesitantly. “But I can come back later.”
“No,” Squirrelflight mewed quickly.
“You’re not interrupting.” Bramblestar padded to join them, his gaze softening as he greeted Sparkpelt with the touch of his nose.
Claws seemed to grip Squirrelflight’s heart. She missed feeling close to Bramblestar
Sparkpelt looked at them. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Squirrelflight’s pelt pricked with unease as she noticed how nervous Sparkpelt looked, and yet the young warrior’s pelt was glossy and her eyes bright. She’d never looked healthier. What could be wrong?
“I’m expecting kits.” Sparkpelt blinked at her.
“Sparkpelt, that’s wonderful.” Happiness surged beneath Squirrelflight’s pelt. She glanced across the clearing to where Larksong was sharing a vole with Dewnose. The young tom was chatting to his denmate, his ears pricked, his eyes sparkling. Sparkpelt was going to be a mother, and her mate was a kind tom and a good warrior. Sparkpelt and Alderheart were both happy and settled. What more could she want?
And yet grief tugged at her belly. She longed for kits too—and a mate who still loved her. The possibility seemed suddenly far away. Her thoughts spiraled. Was she foolish for even wanting it? Should she resign herself to spending the rest of her days watching her Clan grow and change around her while she simply grew old and died?
“Squirrelflight?” Sparkpelt blinked at her anxiously. “You are pleased, aren’t you?”
“Of course I’m pleased. And Bramblestar is too.” She glanced at him.
Bramblestar was staring back at her, sympathy glistening in his eyes. Had he guessed what she’d been thinking? As she caught his eye, he looked away and touched his nose to Sparkpelt’s head. “That’s great news, Sparkpelt. We’re very happy for you. When are the kits due?”
“I’m not sure.” Sparkpelt was purring, her pelt fluffed with happiness.
Squirrelflight glanced at the young queen’s belly. It was already beginning to swell. “It looks like it won’t be too long,” she mewed warmly.
Sparkpelt pressed her cheek against Squirrelflight’s. “I can’t wait to be a mother.” She headed away. Larksong jumped to his paws and brushed against her as she reached him.
Squirrelflight turned back to Bramblestar, her feelings hardening once more. Were there any more rules he wanted to tell her about?
He was gazing at her kindly. “I know that must have been difficult,” he murmured.
Squirrelflight stiffened guiltily, ashamed of the grief Sparkpelt’s news had triggered. It was worse that Bramblestar had seen it. “I’m happy for her. I’m happy for them both.”
“But I know how much you want more kits,” he meowed.
She narrowed her eyes, anger flaring. “And I know how much you don’t.” She turned her tail on him and marched away. With every paw step, her anger melted and guilt took its place. Why had she said that? He was only trying to be kind. Overwhelmed, she headed to the medicine den. She needed to share her feelings with some cat. She remembered how relieved Leafpool had been when she’d returned to camp—surely she would understand.
She ducked through the brambles and saw Alderheart crouching beside the pool, sorting herbs. Leafpool was plucking old moss from one of the nests they kept for sick cats. She looked up as Squirrelflight entered, her eyes narrowing as she saw her sister’s face. “Is everything okay?”
“Not really,” Squirrelflight mewed huskily.
“Come and help me collect herbs,” Leafpool mewed.
Alderheart looked up from his work. “We collected herbs this morning.”
“I know.” Leafpool whisked her tail. “But I think we need some more marigold. It won’t flower forever.” She crossed the den and bustled Squirrelflight outside. “What’s happened?” she asked as they padded into the sunlight.
“It’s nothing, really.” Squirrelflight hesitated. “I’m probably being oversensitive.”
Leafpool whisked her onward. “Is it Sparkpelt’s news?” She reached the camp entrance and ducked through.
