She leaned forward just enough for her breath to brush his throat. “I don’t lie to you. I don’t need to. The world moves the way I want it to without tricks.” I didn’t let her finish that pretty little monologue. I stepped forward so fast the floorboards didn’t have time to creak. My spear clattered softly against my back, my body sliding between them with feline precision, tail snapping behind me like an executioner’s whip. My hands pressed against Master’s chest just enough to reposition him behind my shoulder.

  I bared my teeth. The laugh that came out of me cracked like a broken music box, too delighted, too sharp, too unstable. “You talk like you think he listens to you,” I hissed, ears flat, voice trembling with that perfect fusion of mania and devotion. “You talk like you think you get to be part of the equation. Like you think what you feel matters.”

  I stepped closer to her pinned form, nose nearly brushing hers. “You don’t get it, Mireclaw.” My tail slid back, curling tight around Master’s wrist. “He’s mine. His time is mine. His decisions are mine. His path is mine. You don’t get to steer him. You don’t get to manipulate him. You don’t get to breathe in his direction without my permission.”

  Her eyes narrowed, venomous, calculating, still daring to hold steady under my gaze.

  I let the smile stretch too wide, a crescent of teeth and threat. “And if you ever try to pretend you know more than you do again... I’ll rip out your tongue before you can purr another word.”

  The barn held its breath. Mireclaw’s tail twitched.

  She whispered back, low and cold. “Then keep your Master close, kitten. Because the moment he asks me something you can’t answer... I’ll be right there to offer him the truth you fear.” My claws clicked against the wood. War between us wasn’t brewing. It had already begun.

  The barn’s air was heavy with the stink of ambition, old sweat and the lingering rot of betrayals that had never quite finished bleeding out. My shadow swallowed up the gap behind him as he stepped forward, boots echoing off loose boards, that unflinching stare pulling every eye in the place into orbit. Mireclaw watched him approach with all the grace of a coiled adder, but I could see her calculation flicker, barely a breath, but she wasn’t nearly as invulnerable as she acted. Not with Master in the room, not with me standing between her claws and his throat.

  “Oh, one more thing,” Master muttered, voice like the scrape of a knife. No flair, no threat in his words, just the calm certainty of violence long since paid for. His hand closing on the front of Mireclaw’s cloak. Before she could so much as hiss.

  Mireclaw’s claws scratched at his wrist, but it was more pride than pain. Her green eyes blazed, furious, but somewhere behind the fury there was a flicker of something else, recognition. A cat cornered by something it couldn’t quite out-think.

  “You’d better have some Embercrack tea, Mireclaw,” he said, dry, cold, eyes never leaving hers, all business as always. Mireclaw, ever the perfect viper, didn’t let her pride stumble. She nodded once, tight-lipped, reached under her desk, and produced a battered tin of leaves. No trembling now, just the cold, mechanical assurance of a survivor. She made the tea herself, hands never shaking, though the steam seemed a little thinner, the clatter of the cups a touch too loud.

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  He didn’t drink it, no, he simply handed it to me, a gift meant to remind Mireclaw that she was nothing, that she couldn’t even keep her own offerings from my claws. My tail wrapped greedily around his leg, ears standing rigid, every sense on fire with delight as I took the cup and drained it in one quick, greedy motion. Embercrack tea, strong, bitter, a flavour that danced on the knife edge of pain, caffeine and whatever else the Embercrack scum liked to lace it with.

  And then it hit me.

  The world went electric. Every heartbeat was a drum, every sound a bullet whistling past my head, every shadow alive with predators and secrets and possibilities. I twitched, tail lashing wildly, the fur on my ears bristling with adrenaline. My ears felt like antennae for every lie ever spoken in this rotten barn. My claws flexed uncontrollably, I wanted to pounce, I wanted to kill, I wanted to sing and scream and laugh until everyone here remembered my name, remembered why they feared me, why Master kept me so close. My breath came in short, sharp pants, tongue flicking across my lips. I spun once, twice, nearly tripping over my own twitching feet.

  Hyper-vigilance was an understatement. I saw every blink, every twitch, every pulse in Mireclaw’s throat, the flutter of her eyes as she glared at me with hate and terror and the unmistakable flavour of envy. She wanted this. She wanted him. She wanted to be me. Too bad, there’s only room for one in this story. I giggled, a ragged, high-pitched sound, and slammed the cup down on her table so hard it nearly shattered. “Delicious,” I purred, voice half-laugh, half-threat, “just the way I like it, doll. You want to watch me twitch, Mireclaw? Keep staring, you might learn something about losing.”

  Mireclaw’s mouth twisted, fury and frustration buried under that cunning mask. She straightened her cloak, cleared her throat, claws clacking on the table as she retook her composure, as if she hadn’t just been manhandled and humiliated in her own headquarters. “We’ll push on Black Fang turf in a moment, then,” she said, tone measured, eyes never quite meeting Master’s now, always darting sideways to check for my next move. “My blades will follow your lead, Master. No more delays. I’ll have runners ready at both flanks. The Swarm doesn’t know we’re coming, and if we move now, we can take the intersection before sunset. The only thing I need from you.” a sly look, a twist of the knife “is to keep your little pet on a leash. The last thing I need is her drawing blood on my people before the Swarm even sees us.”

  That last jab was for me. I showed her my teeth, twitched my ears, and wrapped my tail tighter around Master’s leg. But then his hand reached down, slow, deliberate, that detective’s calm threading through the static of my mind, and he scratched me behind the ears. Every nerve lit up. Possessive heat bloomed in my chest, a burst of manic, wild love. My claws dug into his cloak, not quite breaking skin, but marking him as mine in front of her, in front of anyone who might ever think to take him. I leaned into his touch, purring sharp and low, looking Mireclaw straight in the eyes with a smile that promised ruin.

  “He doesn’t need to leash me,” I whispered, voice velvet and steel, sly, wicked, “because there’s nothing in this world that could drag me away from him. Not you. Not your blades. Not your dreams of power. So keep your eyes off what you can’t have, Mireclaw. I’ll be watching.” My tail flicked, my laughter sharp and broken, echoing in the rafters. “If you step out of line, I’ll be the one tightening the noose. Remember that next time you think you’re in control.”

  The storm was coming. And I was already dancing in the thunder.