//Un//marked

// chapter 34 //

Lightpaw had been training for over half of her life for this very moment. She had trained with DarkClan's best and the rebels' best, fighting formidable fighters on both sides. Even that had not prepared her for what she encountered now.

    The two forces clashed, fighting breaking out faster than lightning travelled across the sky. Lightpaw kept running, unsure where to make her first move. In training, she knew who she was fighting – here, it could be anyone.

    She stopped short when she saw Finch struggling under Newtfang's weight. The ginger DarkClan tom had the trainee pinned by the shoulders, jaws moving ever closer to his throat. Finch managed to swipe at Newtfang's face, but his attack did little to free him. For a moment, their pelts turned to black, and Lightpaw remembered seeing Beetlepaw pinned beneath Jet.

    Then, she realized that Newtfang meant to kill Finch.

    She spurred herself forward, willing her paws to move faster. She had vowed to fight for the rebels, to turn her back on DarkClan; if she revealed herself as a traitor by saving the life of an alley cat then both sides would know where she stood.

    Her paws connected with Newtfang's side forcefully, throwing him off of Finch. The ginger tom rolled, surprise showing on his bloodied face. A scrap of brown fur hung from the side of his jaws.

    Lightpaw turned to see the blank, staring eyes of the cat she'd meant to save.

    "Lightpaw," Newtfang said, eyes narrowed. "How nice to have you back. I've been keeping watch."

    The she-cat stared at him, suddenly remembering the times she had entered Dawnstar's den to see him and Shadowpelt speaking with her. Had they been following the rebels' movements all along?

    "Seems you turned on us some while ago," he continued. "You weren't the only spies in that camp, you know."

    Killian. Newtfang and Shadowpelt had been reporting Killian's observations to Dawnstar.

    Lightpaw rolled out of the way just as Newtfang sprang. Her claws were unsheathed and she was prepared to fight – but who? Whose side was she really on? She didn't want to kill anyone, not if she could help it.

    "Kill them all!" The voice echoed around the High Stones, as cold and poisonous as ever. Looking up, Lightpaw saw Dawnstar standing atop the Speaking Rock. Hatred filled her belly at the sight of the DarkClan leader and red tinged her vision.

    If there was one cat she would kill, it was Dawnstar.

    She dodged Newtfang's next attack with ease before bringing her own paws down his right side. He yowled in pain, rounding on her. His next blow connected with her shoulder, then the side of her face. Slightly dazed, Lightpaw moved back, trying to reestablish her control.

    He leapt over her but she whipped around too quickly, blocking his next swipe. Before she could hit him again, a black blur threw her to the side, pinning her to the ground.

    "What are you doing?!" Shademask yelled at her. "He's on our side!"

    The worried look in his eyes eased some of Lightpaw's shock. Shademask, however, didn't know the truth.

    She steeled herself, narrowing her eyes. "But I'm not."

    The surprise registered on his face and she threw him off of her, reversing their positions. Now, she had him pinned down and at her mercy.

    "You can't win!" Shademask said. "All of the rebels will die."

    "DarkClan is outnumbered," Lightpaw replied. "It can't continue to exist. You yourself said this is all about Dawnstar getting her claws on Nightchaser, that no one else matters. You don't matter to her, to DarkClan."