After she had killed Dusky, Jerah had called her a victor and named her Leera for the entire crowd to hear. Cats had cheered her name, their voices echoing dully the back of her mind. Her vision blurred, and she stumbled a step as she saw the gathered cats start to move. Her eyes landed on three cats surrounding Dusky's body. A mate and two older kits. She had blinked. They were glaring at her. She'd realized.

She had stumbled a step and into Jerah's shoulder. He had let out a chuckle as he'd nudged her shoulder.

"You fought well, Leera," he had reached to touch her forehead with his nose, but she had recoiled from him, shaking the dizziness from her gaze. She'd killed someone. She'd not hesitated.

"Is there anywhere I can be treated, or will I have to treat myself?" She'd demanded. She had made sure to put distance between them, standing off with her hackles raised. His nose had twitched, and he'd sighed as if disappointed.

"No." He'd watched the cats disperse and drag Dusky's body away, blood following in their wake. Red. Red. Red. So very red. She had not seen what had happened to the first tom she had attacked.

"Is there anything else you require of me?" He had studied her then. His eyes running over every inch of her body, holding her gaze after his assessment. After a long moment, he finally shook his head. She had bowed, her muzzle touching the blood-stained ground. Let him see how he had brought her low. How he had successfully broken her. She had glared at him before she had limped off to her sanctuary on the edge of the dwellings. Her little safety from the death.

It had taken two days to finally have her wounds clotted enough to even hunt successfully. It had taken her half a day to actually catch something worth while.

She would kill Oakstar when she saw him. She would gladly take one of his lives for this torture. No cat had come to help her, and she hadn't heard, seen, or smelt any cat from Jerah's group since the battle. She preferred it that way. She could wallow in her pain in silence without the risk of defending herself. But she did miss her Clanmates. She missed the comforting sound of their breaths around her in the night. Despite what she had told Jerah, her Clanmates had rallied behind her when the rogues started attacking. She'd still been young, but Oakclaw's trust and her own determination to prove herself had been enough for her Clan.

She was not normally sentimental. It would make things difficult when cats died. So, these thoughts made her anxious. If she couldn't control her thoughts, they would leech the strength out of her. She wouldn't be able to continue this farce with Jerah long enough to stop him.

She rested her head on her paws. The confidence with which she had walked into this situation diminished. She had told Oakstar she would end them. She didn't know how much he had told her Clan about why she had left. Did they think she abandoned them? That she disappeared to back to the cats that almost killed her? And they had almost killed her again. She let out a quiet snarl of frustration.

StarClan, help her.

"Leera!" Jerah's voice floated through her clearing, and she took a calming breath. Her body groaned in pain as she got to her paws, stiff from no movement, but she fought down the urge to remain hidden and padded out to find him.

He sat atop her fence once more and he leaped down to her as soon as he saw her.

"Ah, beautiful Leera," he greeted. She flattened her ears and looked away. "You look worse for wear, such a shame." She choked back a snarl of anger. Stupid, arrogant, foolish tom.

"You're the one that demanded there be a fight," she couldn't help but bite out, "I fought against four of your warriors and might have won had you not ended the fight—" He barked out a laugh, cutting her off.

"Against two other vicious cats? You wouldn't have—"

"I would've ripped through their throats like I did Dusky," she said viciously. "Once that first life was gone, it wouldn't have been hard to take the next ones."

He sobered then, eyes losing their mirth and suddenly they were wading through tension thicker than the river that split the Clans. He stared at her hard, but she refused to bow to his intimidation. He might be able to scare the rest of the cats under his rule, but she would not cower.

"You are very brave for being on the verge of collapse, Leera," Jerah murmured. She bared her teeth in challenge. He'd wanted her to prove she was not a Clan cat. He'd wanted her to be the blood thirsty killer her father was. Her tail lashed.

"Try me, Jerah," she retorted.

"Dusky was a good cat. He fought well for me." She rolled her eyes.

"He stepped into the circle with me. I didn't single him out. You decided his life was over when you put him against me," she countered, tail lashing. "He's dead because of you." She would be Tyre's daughter. Sharp, vicious, cruel.

Absolute silence. The only sound she could hear was the ringing in her ears, the sound of her new name, over and over. Jerah did not move or even blink. Her pelt heated the longer he stared at her. She had stepped over the line. But this is what he wanted. He wanted some cat to stand up to him. He was used to cats being silent, unquestioning, adoring.

She was none of those things. Finally, he looked away, almost ashamed.

"You will be valuable for me," he said. She blinked, almost surprised he hadn't swatted her. "You tell me the truth and you do not feed me pretty words."

"Don't be ridiculous," she shook her head, but he let out a chuckle.

"You'll replace Dusky—"

"Now, you're really being crazy. You've got crowfood for brains, Jerah," she barked out a laugh. "Those cats will kill me. I murdered their friend—"

"They all killed their way into my trust. They understand the risk, and they have mourned for Dusky," he rolled his shoulders. "I have mourned for Dusky. You almost killed Hilton as well, but he will live."

"Oh, I'm sure he will love discussing things with me," she drawled, "yes, let me discuss taking over the Clans with this former Clan cat and my almost killer. How in StarClan's name will I know he won't turn on me?" She snapped and turned her back on him as she inhaled deeply.

Being in Jerah's circle meant access to him. She could kill him once she got close. It would take her a moon, maybe more, but it could be accomplished. The other issue would be the other cats in the circle. Once they found out she had killed him, she would die. There was no question about it. But who would take over after him? Her tail tip twitched.

She would need to talk to Oakstar to prepare him for that. They would crumble without the strength of Jerah. But how would she talk to Oakstar without alerting Jerah.

She dropped her head and sighed.

"If your body is found mutilated, I will know who to blame," he chuckled, and she raised her eyes to his. She felt heat prickle along her spine. That was hardly comforting. "I need your opinion now. Come back to camp with me. If you can make it."

"I'll make it just fine. I crossed the field to the Clans with worse," she retorted and leaped on top of the fence. Her muscles groaned at the sudden movement, and she took a deep breath through her nose to fight back the groan of pain.

"Fair point," he laughed as he joined her and then went down the other side. "You also took the hard way." That piqued her curiosity. She leaped down after him and followed him down the familiar path. So the only way to the Clans wasn't across.

"The hard way?" She questioned. "I thought there was only one way to the Clans."

"Well, the field is the only way, but the easy way is through the tunnel of rabbit warrens that weave under the field," he explained, raising a tail to halt as a monster rumbled past.

"Do the warrens extend all the way to the Clans?" That seemed ridiculous. It was a good day's journey between the two groups. There was no in way in StarClan there were that many rabbits and that they all shared dens.

"Yes and no," Jerah started, "a lot of the warrens connect because of side tunnels, or the walls were just weak so we could collapse them in between dens, but we traveled deeper and realized there is a system of caves beneath the entirety of the field between here and the Clans." She froze, eyes wide. There was entire system of caves? How many cats had been lost to Jerah's greed? The time to figure out and map the tunnels must have taken moons, seasons. He waited for her to recover.

"Jerah, that is ridiculously dangerous," she said.

"When I told them of a place away from the twolegs," he shrugged as they crossed the same thunderpath and followed the same trek between the twoleg nests. Jerah changed nothing. The guards walked a few paces behind them, leaving them to their conversation. "They couldn't help but throw themselves into the tunnels. When I told them they had to fight, they gladly did."

"You have been attacking the Clan for moons, and only JayClan," she added. Jerah licked his lips in thought but didn't say anything. His ears twitched and the guards fell a step or two back. "Why haven't you taken over them yet?"

"Your old home is much more determined than I thought," he finally admitted when he believed the guards were far enough away. "They were protecting something." She snorted.

"Of course, they were. That territory has been theirs for generations, they weren't going to take kindly to some vicious rogues trying to take it," she retorted. They paused in front of Jerah's camp and he looked at her.

"Vicious rogues? Is that how you see us?" He asked, pretending to be hurt. She flicked an ear, looking away from him, to the center where there was a dark stain. Where Dusky had fallen. "Weren't you a vicious rogue yourself?"

"I was eight moons old, Jerah," she returned. "I didn't have the opportunity to become like my father. Besides," she turned away from him, turning her back on him as she sauntered into the center of the area and ignoring the stain of blood on the floor. No longer red. Crimson. Dark crimson. She lifted her eyes to the three cats sitting in front of Jerah's den. Gray, tabby, and Hilton, the area between his neck and shoulder matted, but looking clean. They all stared at her. She licked her lips. "Besides, the Clan cats are very traditional and territorial. Of course, they are going to fight back." The black tom snorted. As if the clan cats were so trivial. They had not given up JayClan territory yet. They approached the group of cats and they all rose.

"Hickory, Whistle, Hilton," Jerah dipped his head. "I'm sure you are all very familiar with Leera."

"Yes, yes," Hilton rumbled, "we are all very familiar with Leera and her claws. We need to discuss the more recent vicious attacks." He stood up stiffly, still avoiding her gaze. She flattened her ears and glanced over at Jerah who chuckled.

"Always straight to the point, aren't you?" He asked the dark tabby tom. Hilton sneered at him as he limped over to the log pile. They wouldn't all fit in Jerah's den, but Hilton walked around the den and to a spot behind it. They all gathered around in a circle.

"I'd rather not spend any more time with this…" his dark eyes ran up and down her once, "forest-dweller."

"She's no longer a forest dweller, Hilton," Hickory, the gray tom, cut in. She flashed him a glance. "She earned her spot here just like we did." Hilton let out a grunt but said no more as he eased himself down onto the ground.

"Whatever let's see if she can be useful," he flicked his tail.

"More recent vicious attacks?" She asked, drawing the conversation back to what Hilton had mentioned earlier. "What do you mean? All your warriors—"

"We aren't Clan cats," Hilton cut in. She glared at him.

"What else am I supposed to call you?" She returned. "Cats? Savages? Monsters?" She drawled. "I'm sure the list goes on."

"I should've killed you—"

"Yes," she bit out, "it would've solved most, if not all, of your problems. Now you have a filthy forest dweller living among you. But I earned my spot here and I happen to have a unique view that none of you have." The dark tom remained silent, glancing to Jerah. She, too, turned her eyes to her new leader.

"We call them fighters, not warriors," Jerah said neutrally. She gave a dip in her head in acknowledgement.

"All your fighters," she corrected, "seem healthy and fine."

"That's because the most recent group is recovering," Whistle meowed. "The Clan cats attacked viciously and nearly killed four of our fighters. I don't know what changed." He glanced to Jerah.

"Their old leader is dead," she supplied. The cats all looked to her. Her nose twitched as she studied the four around her. "Their new leader, Oakstar," she let her voice catch here, just a bit, so Jerah would notice. His tongue dragging over his muzzle was enough for her to know he understood. "Oakstar is more determined than Twigstar."

"Twigstar," Hickory chuckled, "what a ridiculous name." In truth, she preferred the naming system of the Clans. It gave cats a chance to grow into something, to aspire to be someone better.

"He is also fiercer," she continued. "He won't hesitate to kill. He believes that territory is JayClan's. So, he won't be afraid to defend it. You will have to start ambushing them. What about the other Clans? Why haven't you attacked them? I remember that they denied knowledge of your group, but they were terrified. Why specifically attack JayClan?" She pressed. Jerash flicked his tail, sharing a look with Whistle. The two toms shared a look that she did not miss.

"JayClan is closest—"

"Fine, but you said something to the other Clans to keep them from interfering," she pressed, tail tip twitching at her paws. She wanted to accuse him, yowl at him, demand from him why he was attacking her Clan, but she waited. She was not a Clan cat anymore. She was Tyre's daughter. A monster.

"I did," he conceded. She waited patiently, her eyes never leaving his. He wanted someone to speak against him, to question his decisions, she would. She dragged a paw over her muzzle as she waited and waited.

"A few dead… apprentices, you call them, was enough. If they needed reminding, well…" he trailed off. Her ears flattened to her head. They killed… apprentices? They threatened them? They murdered cats who barely old enough to defend themselves? StarClan, she loathed them. She couldn't wait until she could kill them. Each and every one of them.

"So, just JayClan?" She asked again, nearly choking on her rage. Murdered apprentices. Leera. Dusky. Blood. Red. So red. The color of the setting sun over the river. Red. Red.

"The reasons for that are no cat's business—"

"It's important because if I know those reasons, I can better understand how you can defeat the Clan—"

"It is none of your business," Jerah cut in sharply. She recoiled at his tone. This was much different than the way he'd usually spoken to her. She drew back and looked away, regaining her dignity.

"Fine," she drawled. "You need to lead surprise attacks against them. Attack patrols on the border, hunting patrols. I know you flaunt yourselves during the day, but that was before Oakstar. Twigstar ordered us not to fight as long as you didn't provoke us. Oakstar won't do that. And he will be more reckless now that you retreated—"

"We didn't retreat," Hilton retorted.

"You pulled back after a week, which never happens, at least from what I remember of you there," she countered. He scowled at her. "He will become arrogant, reckless. He'll send out smaller patrols. What even is your goal?" She turned to Jerah again.

"Now?" Jerah said comfortably, tail tip flicking. "It's time to eradicate JayClan." She cocked her head to the side, fighting back the revulsion.

"How?" She asked.

"We'll take your advice," he meowed. "Whistle and Hickory will come with me. Hilton, you and Leera will stay here and lead in my absence."

"Wait, what?"

"There is no way I am doing that."

"You will both do as I ask. We will be back in half a moon," Jerah instructed, getting to his paws.

"Half a moon? You're leaving now?" She inquired, fighting down the rising anger and fear in her chest. She'd be left without her only real ally, if she could even call Jerah that. She was completely alone. She sucked in a breath and glanced at Hilton who was glaring at her.

"We will be back, and you will survive," Jerah laughed. "Don't worry. You both can even stay in my den. Keep you close to the group." She inhaled deeply, sharing a glance with Hilton. The tom, though furious, did not argue with his leader.

"Whatever you say, Jerah. I will be looking forward to your return," Hilton said stiffly. She held back a snarl of fury and instead dipped her head.

Her Clan was at risk. She knew Oakstar would be smart. He would keep his patrols bigger than groups of four and she knew he would command his warriors to kill cats on sight. The four of them rose as Jerah padded around to the front of the log pile. A large group of cats sat patiently, waiting for their leader. Her chest tightened. She hoped her Clan would survive long enough for her to save them.