He jerked his muzzle toward her. She was glaring at him, pain glittering in her fierce gaze. “Stop sitting there like a rabbit and do something useful!” She gasped as Peanut leaned into the nest and stroked her belly with a paw.
Tigerheart stared in panic. “What can I do?”
“Fetch me a stick to bite on,” Dovewing panted. “I don’t want these cats to hear me squealing like a kit!”
Tigerheart nodded and hurried to the gap in the wall. He scrambled outside, then raced to the tall chestnut tree he’d sat under with Spire. The Twolegs were still yowling inside. A monster rumbled past. White clouds dotted the sky. Tigerheart scanned the grass, spotting a sturdy stick lying beneath the tree. He bent down and bit it, relieved to feel it firm between his jaws. No bark splintered from the smooth stem. It would be perfect for Dovewing. Quickly he carried it back to the cavern, struggling to maneuver it into the gap. He pushed it through, end first, and it fell onto the ledge and bounced on the floor.
Fierce and Rascal turned to watch it tumble to a halt. Blaze hurried across the cavern and stood beside it. “What’s this for?” he asked as Tigerheart landed next to it.
“It’s for Dovewing.” Tigerheart snatched it up and carried it toward Dovewing’s nest.
“What does she need a stick for?” Blaze followed him.
“To bite on.” Tigerheart struggled to speak through the stick. He dropped it beside the nest. “It will help with the pain.”
Blaze stopped beside him and stared at Dovewing. Peanut had climbed into the nest and was soothing her with gentle laps behind her ears. Spire leaned in and ran his paws over her belly. Dovewing convulsed, a spasm jerking her body. “Why do cats have kits?” Blaze asked.
Spire turned from Dovewing and met the tom-kit’s gaze. “Blaze,” he meowed softly. “Dovewing will need water. Find a rag and soak it under the drip-pipe. Then bring it here. But wait until it’s dripping wet before you bring it back.”
Blaze nodded earnestly, then hurried away.
Tigerheart stared at Dovewing as another spasm gripped her. “Is she okay?”
Dovewing shot him a look. “Where’s the stick?” she growled between gritted teeth.
He pushed it hurriedly into the nest and she clamped her jaws around it and groaned as another spasm made her stiffen. She shuddered, then jerked.
Spire broke into a purr as a small, wet sac slid into the nest behind her. Quickly he nipped the sac’s membrane with his teeth and peeled the bundle of slick fur from inside. He placed it beside Dovewing’s cheek. “Meet your firstborn.”
Dovewing let go of the stick and, purring loudly, lapped at the tiny kit as it squirmed and mewled beside her.
“You have a daughter.” Spire blinked at Tigerheart happily.
Tigerheart stared at the kit, hardly able to believe his eyes. This small scrap of fur was what all the heartache and worry of the past two moons had been about. His heart seemed to swell until joy burst from his throat in a purr. “She’s beautiful.” How could he have ever doubted that he should be here with Dovewing? He thrust his muzzle close to hers, nuzzling first the kit and then her cheek.
She purred too, their gaze meeting as she turned her head to press her nose against his. “She’s so soft and—” A spasm cut her off. She nudged Tigerheart away, tucked the kit close to her chest, and clamped her teeth around the stick once more. Jerking, she groaned, and another kit dropped into the nest.
“A son,” Spire mewed happily, placing the soggy bundle beside the first.
Tigerheart watched as Dovewing bit down once more on the stick.
“Another daughter.” Spire placed a third kit beside the others. He ran his paw over Dovewing’s belly. “That’s the whole litter.” He sat back on his haunches and looked at Peanut.
Peanut purred. “It’s always good to help with kitting after taking care of so many sick and wounded cats.” Her gaze wandered to Marigold’s nest, which was empty.
Tigerheart looked at it. Boots, the one-eyed cat, was dragging the bundle of furless pelts apart and shaking them out with his teeth. “Where’s Marigold?”
Spire nudged Tigerheart away and lowered his voice. “She died last night,” he whispered. “She’s free from her suffering now.”
Tigerheart began to feel a felt a pang of sadness, but Peanut’s mew distracted him.
“You did well.” Peanut dipped her head to Dovewing. As Tigerheart hurried back to the nest side, the tortoiseshell padded away.
Spire followed her, and Tigerheart was suddenly very aware that he was alone with Dovewing and their three newborn kits. His fur prickled uneasily. What was he supposed to do now? Dovewing lapped the kits until their wet fur fluffed out; then she nosed them toward her belly, where they nuzzled until they found milk. Dovewing purred and curled around them. She seemed to know what to do instinctively. So did the kits. Tigerheart’s belly tightened as the huge responsibility of taking care of them gripped him. The freedom he’d felt since leaving ShadowClan seemed to evaporate like morning mist. Suddenly all the ties that had once held him were binding him again. He had left his Clan, but it had traveled with him. These kits were his to protect and to raise. They were as much a part of him as ShadowClan, and he was part of them.
Dovewing looked at him, her eyes sleepy and filled with love. “Aren’t they perfect?”
“Yes.” Tigerheart crouched awkwardly beside the nest and stretched his muzzle in to sniff them. In the shadow beneath the ledge, he could see their colors now. One she-kit was gray, like Dovewing, the other tabby like him, and the tom-kit was a gray tabby, with wide dark stripes along his flanks. They smelled warm and sweet. The tom-kit mewled indignantly as Tigerheart lapped his rabbit-soft fur, and pressed closer to Dovewing’s belly. “I don’t think he likes me,” Tigerheart murmured anxiously.
“Of course he does. You’re his father.” Dovewing touched a paw to Tigerheart’s cheek, and the tenderness in her touch made him feel guilty all over again about their argument.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you about Puddleshine’s dream. But I couldn’t lie to you. You have to believe that you are the most important thing in my life, but without my loyalty to my Clan, what would I be?”
She gazed at him softly. “I know. Your loyalty makes you who you are. And I know you will love our kits with the same fierce loyalty with which you love your Clan. I love you, Tigerheart. I would have loved you even if you hadn’t followed me here. I will always love you.” She paused, her green eyes shining. “Not just because you’re the father of my kits, but because you’re you. I’m sorry I made you choose between your Clan and me. No cat should ever have to make that choice. I was scared of facing this alone. I’ve been a coward.”
“No!” He licked her cheek fiercely, his heart bursting with pride. “You’ve been brave. So very brave. And I would have loved you too, even if my Clan had kept me from you. Nothing could stop the way I feel about you.”
She returned his gaze steadily. “We will always love each other. But we have a responsibility to our Clans and to our kits. We are warriors—”
Tigerheart cut in: “And our kits will be warriors too.”
Dovewing nodded. “They will be raised in a Clan.”
Tigerheart searched Dovewing’s gaze, relieved to find agreement shining in their green depths. “Yes,” he purred.
Dovewing purred too and then added, “But first they must be weaned and grow strong enough to travel.”
“They’re not going into the belly of a Thundersnake,” Tigerheart meowed firmly.
“No.” Dovewing gave a mrrow of amusement. “Thundersnakes can fill their bellies with Twolegs. Our kits will walk.”