"Yours," I agreed. "All of it. Yours."
We stayed knotted while the storm raged outside. Eventually we slept tangled together, still connected, the bond humming contentment between us.
I woke to silence.
The storm had stopped. The wind was gone. Outside the entrance crack, dawn light filtered in—clear, clean, the storm completely passed like it had never happened.
Drav was already awake, his hand on the swell of my stomach.
"We should check the main caves," I said.
"Yes."
We dressed quickly. The journey back across the exposed ridge was easy in the calm air, almost pleasant after being trapped for a day. But as we approached our main cave system, I felt Drav's alarm through the bond before I saw why.
The entrance had been breached.
Fresh claw marks scored the obsidian around the opening, deep gouges that gleamed in the morning light. Our supplies were scattered across the cave floor. The furs we'd left behind were torn to shreds, destroyed deliberately. And carved into the wall in deep gouges that must have taken time and effort:
SURRENDER HER OR WATCH HER DIE
Kethar's message. Left while we'd been trapped by the storm, unable to defend what was ours.
"They were here," I said, voice flat. "They raided us while we couldn't defend."
"Testing our defenses. Seeing what we'd left unguarded." Drav moved through the destroyed den, cataloging damage with the kind of systematic assessment that meant he was planning something. "We can't stay here. This position is compromised."
"So where do we go?"
His determination solidified into certainty. "Kethar's old territory. The Eyrie. Better vantage point. Easier to defend. Harder to approach without being seen."
"You want to take his territory?"
"I want to claim the superior ground." His eyes met mine. "And I want to make him come to us on our terms. We movetoday. We claim The Eyrie. And when Kethar attacks, we'll be ready."
His determination solidified into certainty. His tactical planning. His absolute conviction that we could win this if we controlled the terrain.
I looked at the carved message one more time.
"Let's go," I said. "Let's take his territory and make him regret ever challenging us."
Drav's smile showed all his teeth. "That's my female."
We packed what supplies had survived. Kethar wanted war. We'd give it to him—on our ground, on our terms.
DRAV
The destroyed den was a declaration of war.
I stood in the wreckage of what we'd built, cataloging the damage with the kind of cold assessment that came from seasons of survival. Every territorial marker I'd placed—destroyed. Every fur Hallie had nested in—shredded deliberately. The carefully prepared food stores—scattered, contaminated with sand and debris in ways that meant they couldn't be salvaged.
This wasn't random destruction. This was deliberate, calculated. Kethar wanted us to know: he could reach us anytime. Could destroy what we'd built. Could take what was mine.
Hallie stood at the cave entrance, staring at the message carved deep into the obsidian:
SHE'S WASTED ON YOU. SURRENDER HER.
"He did this while we were trapped," she said, voice tight with rage. "Waited until the storm grounded us. Coward."
