It wasn’t that Kyra’s senses got sharper. It was more that she finally learned to use them. Pashla taught her to be aware of every detail—the faint scent of a crushed leaf, a telltale snap of a twig, the scratch of tiny claws. But it was more than just paying attention. As a thief, Kyra was used to being alert, ready to hide at the smallest sign of a guard. Now she learned to approach the world as predator, not prey. Rather than reacting, she searched, and the world came to her in more vivid detail than she’d ever thought possible.

She looked forward to her walks with Pashla and the kittens. Every day was a new challenge and a chance to learn. Kyra stopped Pashla during one early morning walk, raising her finger in warning as she sampled the wind. The scent was familiar; Pashla had pointed it out to her just a couple of days ago.

“Geese somewhere close,” she told Pashla. “Probably flying through for the winter.”

“Very good,” Pashla said.

Kyra allowed herself a small smile as she shifted her attention to the ground before her. Leaves covered the dirt, decorating the forest floor with red-and-yellow piles that shifted in the wind. It all looked normal—except for one mound of leaves that moved too much. Kyra froze in her steps and pointed. Pashla nodded slightly and gestured to Libena, who was also staring at the pile. At Pashla’s signal, Libena approached and waited, one paw off the ground. Kyra saw the rabbit dart out just as Libena attacked. The kitten’s teeth closed around the rabbit’s neck.

Pashla said something in their language, which Kyra understood to be praise and a suggestion that they take a break. They settled on the ground, and Pashla handed Kyra a plum. It was a welcome change from the steady diet of raw meat, and Kyra ate slowly, savoring the sweet juices as she watched the kittens tear into their catch.

“Tell me,” Pashla asked Kyra, “do the humans really not suspect our shape-shifting?”

Talk of humans made her uneasy, reminding her that she was running out of time. “There are stories. Rumors of shape-shifters beyond the Aerins that some people believe, but no one has suspected it of you yet. At least, I haven’t heard anything.”

Pashla nodded thoughtfully. “We are most vulnerable when we change, so we don’t do it in front of our enemies. The humans always find out eventually, but it is easier when they think the cats are mere beasts.”

“Does James know?”