Work with me, child, Vihar begged silently as the foal seemed to claw his way out of her body. He was just as eager to be rid of her as she was of him, but was apparently unaware of their shared goal as he writhed, sending waves of pain through the painted mare’s body. If only he could understand that they shared a common goal —

Vihar whimpered, and suddenly she was no longer alone. The colt was wriggling in the dirt at her feet, gasping his first breaths, his baby-blue eyes rolling to look back at her. In the same instant as she met her son’s gaze, she felt that of another: the green-gold eyes of the Paradise King, boring hungrily into her. She twisted her head to look at him, saw the flared nostrils and lowered head, the twisting grin on his grey-black mouth. Fear and fury rolled through Vihar in equal measures at his expression, and she rolled her eyes at him as he drew close.

“Stay away,” she hissed, baring her teeth and curling her neck protectively around the pale colt staggering to his feet. Vihar did not yet know if she could stand, and she realized that it was probably not smart to try; if she stumbled and fell, she would only be more vulnerable than she already was, curled on the ground like a cat.

Daughter of a traitor, he purred at her, and Vihar struggled to hide her confusion. Her frenzied breathing had slowed when Rougaru settled into place, showing no sign of further movement, too relaxed to attack — yet. Her dark auburn tail snapped at her sweaty flank, but she forced her face out of its mask of twisted fear, willing her expression to calm. Have you heard the stories?

In truth, she had, but until now she had hoped they were just rumors. The more she heard, the harder it was to convince herself that everything was fine, especially after witnessing the gaunt and grief-stricken face of the silver bay mare who had lost her colt. There had been two betrayals, it seemed, but Vi was not sure if (or how) they were connected. Only that they worked together to fuel the fire within Paradise, and served to isolate her further and further, until Annubis’s was the only company she sought.

“Enlighten me,” she said dryly, her voice betraying far less of her fear and discomfort than she had expected, considering she felt a substantial amount of both. Her ears remained tightly locked to her neck, and her eyes never left the Wolf King, though she paid attention to the child moving about in her peripheral vision.

No sooner had she made her request of Rougaru than she was startled by the scrabbling of yet another set of hooves. A silver blur inserted itself between her and the tawny stallion, and Vihar’s heart fluttered with relief. She felt foolish for going off on her own and inviting trouble, and was gladder than she would have thought to have Annubis with her now. Rougaru might have been his father, but the two had more differences than similarities, or so it seemed to Vihar from outside of their relationship. She knew the younger stallion craved his sire’s approval, but it was clear that Annubis was not so much a puppet of Rougaru’s as a pet. Rougaru kept him on a leash, but could not play his strings.

Annubis’s arrival had given Vihar confidence, and now she struggled to stand up behind the protective shield of the silver buckskin’s body. She was steadier than she had dared to hope, and as their son began to nurse, she pressed a grateful touch of her muzzle into Annubis’s silver hip. She is not him, he was saying. “Sorry to disappoint,” she said, emboldened by the young stallion’s defiance, “but I think you would have noticed if I was sneaking off to the Cove to plot with my father. And anyway, it sounds like what that Ridge mare did was worse. I don’t know what my father did, but he wouldn’t kill a child.” As much as she may have been in denial, this much at least she was sure to be true. Her father would not — could not — harm a child. She was unsure of many things, but not this; so she fell silent, standing stubbornly behind Annubis, prepared to stubbornly defend her father in this at least. Beneath her, the colt nursed hungrily, apparently oblivious to the tension in the air, his fuzzy little tail swishing over his damp, scrawny hindquarters. Vihar ignored him, willing the child to stay quiet and out of the way, praying for him not to put himself in the hungry gaze of the Wolf King.