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Darkflower liked to think she was special but she was far from it.
Brokenstar made her feel special. Feeling the leader's eyes on her, hearing the rumble of his purr, pressing against his thick pelt, coiling her tail around his. Were they mates? She wondered, sometimes, whether they were. Whether he even cared for that. But his attention made up for her doubts.
She wasn't the only one. She knew that. ShadowClan had plenty of she-cats clamouring for their leader's attention, but she thought she was the best.
It wasn't only she-cats, of course. She was aware of Blackfoot, though there was no competition between them. He looked at her as he looked at any other Clanmate, and when he was at Brokentstar's side she didn't feel envious like she did with other she-cats.
Biology screamed at her to have kits. Was that why, when a she-cat chased Brokenstar's tail, her eyes narrowed? It felt too simple.
The first time her heat ended and her hope soared, she waited and waited and waited. There were no kits. She complained to her mother, and Ashheart commiserated with her but she didn't really understand. It didn't feel like it, anyway.
The second time her heat ended and the wait began, she spoke to Dewhaze, but he understood even less.
The third time she prayed to StarClan and asked Yellowfang for help, as kits mewled in the nursery and mocked her, unknowingly.
Yellowfang gave her no help. She behaved as though she'd been asked for help poisoning a cat. When Darkflower questioned whether she could even have kits, the old medicine cat almost seemed hopeful.
Her brothers are good distractions, especially in protecting Coalstrike from the ire of their Clanmates and defending him to Brokenstar, but they weren't perfect. They couldn't understand her burning desire to have kits.
Dewhaze had his own interests, especially in Applefur (the only she-cat she felt she didn't have to compete against), but though he wanted kits he didn't have the same drive. He wasn't even sure how he'd be a father.
Coalstrike's life was dominated by outside forces, and there was no chance he'd have kits now. Not with the whole Clan blaming him for Dawncloud's situation. She tried to avoid talking about kits with him, knowing that he wouldn't be able to visit the nursery even then.
As a kit, she had never thought she would even have kits. Leadership had been her burning desire. Perhaps, if she had an apprentice, it might even still be possible. But did it trump her desire for kits? Not now. Not with him.
A leader's kits conferred no special privileges, but to her they'd be perfect. The future of ShadowClan. They could become future deputies and leaders. Most importantly: they'd be hers and his.
When her next heat came, she dreamed of them. Ordinary dreams, she knew, though she wished she could convince herself that StarClan gave them to her. She dreamed of two kits, one with Brokenstar's bold stripes and another with her black fur. They suckled at her belly, mewling sweetly, and she saw him stand over her, pride in his eyes. Love in his eyes.
She woke in the warmth of the larger warriors' den, her brothers either side of her, and opened her eyes. Love.
It wasn't just kits she wanted. She wanted his love.
But for that, she'd have to be special.