Emberfall's POV

The forest held its breath as we stalked through the undergrowth, every pawstep muffled by layers of pine needles and tension. Harestar led us, her silver-striped pelt a ghostly flicker in the gloom, while Brambleclaw prowled at her flank like a storm barely contained. I lingered near the rear, my claws itching for action, Fireheart's legacy simmering in my veins.

Then the fish-scent hit—sharp, unmistakable—and the reeds along the riverbank shivered. Leopardstar emerged, her spotted pelt rippling like water under moonlight, two hulking RiverClan warriors at her heels. Their eyes glinted, feral and calculating, as they fell into step beside Harestar as if they'd rehearsed it.

Brambleclaw's growl tore through the silence. "What is going on?" He halted, blocking the path, his hackles a spiked ridge. "Since when do we march with fish-eaters?"

Leopardstar's laugh was a low, dangerous ripple. She circled Harestar, her gaze mocking. "So you've allied with the one who'll overthrow you after all," she purred, her voice velvet-wrapped steel.

Harestar didn't flinch. "Save your theatrics, Leopardstar. Your rogues are my rogues now."

The RiverClan leader's tail flicked, a serpentine gesture, and her warriors melted into our ranks. One—a scar-patched tom with a missing ear—brushed past me, reeking of silt and blood. I bared my teeth, but Harestar's warning glance froze me.

"Bring them to our arena," Leopardstar commanded, her gaze sweeping over ThunderClan's bristling patrol. "There, they'll fight. Or die."

Brambleclaw rounded on Harestar. "Arena? You're handing us over to RiverClan's games?"

"It's not a game," I snapped before Harestar could answer. The words tasted like defiance, like Fireheart's ghost on my tongue. "It's a trap—for them."

Leopardstar's ear twitched, her icy eyes locking onto mine. "Clever little spark," she mused. "Let's see if you burn bright enough."

The path narrowed, plunging into a gully where the river's roar faded to a hiss. The "arena" was a sunken clearing, its edges choked with thorns, the ground scarred by old battles. Stumps jutted like broken bones, and the air hummed with the metallic tang of dried blood.

Harestar leaped onto a moss-crusted boulder, her voice slicing through the murmurs. "Ravenscar's rogues hunt here at moonhigh. We ambush them. Together."

Brambleclaw lunged forward, his muzzle inches from hers. "You expect us to fight alongside them?" He jabbed a claw at the RiverClan warriors, who stared back, unblinking.

"I expect you to survive," Harestar hissed. "Or would you prefer to kneel for Ravenscar?"

Emberfall's claws unsheathed. The forest seemed to pulse—the thrum of cicadas, the distant screech of a hawk, the rogues' phantom laughter clawing at the edge of thought.

Leopardstar sauntered to the clearing's heart, her tail high. "Stay alive, ThunderClan," she called over her shoulder. "Or I'll add your pelts to my nest."

As shadows lengthened, Brambleclaw's snarl faded to a grumble. Oak'song took his place beside me, his warmth a fleeting comfort. "Stay close," he muttered, though his gaze avoided mine.

The sun died.

SCENEBREAK

Ravenscar descended like a nightmare, his black pelt blending with the shadows as he leaped from the branches above. My heart hammered, every muscle coiled to spring, but Harestar's tail—soft and steady—settled on my shoulder. Her breath warmed my ear as she whispered, "Easy. When I say go, you go."

I nodded, my claws digging into the earth. Ravenscar's amber eyes glinted as he scanned the clearing, his massive frame radiating menace. Behind him, two rogues emerged from the undergrowth. The first was a she-cat with a patchy, mangled face, her gaze darting like a cornered rat. The second was a hulking maple-colored brute, his muzzle crisscrossed with scars that pulled his lip into a permanent snarl.

"Mapleshade," Ravenscar growled, his voice a low rumble that set my fur on end. "You said we'd find the three here."

The scarred she-cat—Mapleshade—huffed, her tail lashing. "Ashfur said so."

My ears pricked at the name. Ashfur. My aunt's mate. The traitor who'd vanished moons ago, leaving Bearstrike to raise their kits alone. I glanced aside, catching Bearstrike's eye. Her golden fur bristled, and beside her, Thornclaw—her new mate—bared his teeth in a silent snarl.

Harestar's tail tightened on my shoulder, a silent command to hold. Ravenscar prowled closer, his claws scoring the earth. "Where are they?" he demanded, his voice rising. "Where's the ThunderClan leader and her lapdogs?"

Mapleshade's ears flattened. "I don't know! Ashfur swore they'd be here!"

The maple-colored rogue growled, his bulk shifting uneasily. "Maybe Ashfur's playing both sides."

Ravenscar's lip curled. "If he is, I'll skin him myself."

Harestar's breath hitched, her tail lifting from my shoulder. "Now," she murmured, so softly I almost missed it.

I exploded from the undergrowth, my claws slashing toward Mapleshade's flank. She screeched, twisting away, but not fast enough—my claws raked her haunches, sending her stumbling into the maple-colored rogue.

Chaos erupted.

Bearstrike lunged at Ravenscar, her snarl a feral echo of ThunderClan's fury. Thornclaw followed, his claws aiming for the rogue leader's throat. Leopardstar's warriors surged from the shadows, their battle cries mingling with the rogues' snarls.

Harestar leaped onto a boulder, her voice cutting through the din. "For ThunderClan!"

The clearing became a whirlwind of fur and claws. Ravenscar's rogues fought with the desperation of cornered beasts, but ThunderClan and RiverClan moved as one—a storm of teeth and talons.

I dodged a swipe from Mapleshade, her claws grazing my ear. "You're just a kit playing warrior!" she spat.

"And you're a traitor playing dead," I shot back, slamming into her with all my weight. We tumbled, a tangle of claws and snarls, until a yowl split the air.

Ravenscar.

He loomed over Bearstrike, his jaws dripping with her blood. Thornclaw lay motionless nearby, his flank rising and falling faintly.

"No!" I scrambled to my paws, but Harestar was faster.

She collided with Ravenscar in a blur of silver and fury, her claws raking his muzzle. "You want ThunderClan?" she snarled. "You'll have to go through me."

The rogues faltered, their leader pinned beneath Harestar's wrath. Leopardstar's warriors pressed the advantage, driving them back into the thorns.

The tide had turned.

But Ravenscar's laughter—cold and unhinged—echoed as he retreated. "This isn't over, Harestar. I'll burn your forest to the ground."

As the rogues vanished into the shadows, I stood beside Harestar, my chest heaving. The clearing was littered with blood and broken bodies, but ThunderClan—and RiverClan—had held the line.

For now.