The night was still. Above the town, stars studded a beautifully clear sky, glittering gems in a sea of deepest black. Not a cloud was in sight, allowing the moonlight to stream freely and decorate streets and rooftops with a dim silver glow.

It was a magical night. A night that promised of dreams and adventure.

Or, in Felicity's case, a slice of revenge.

She ducked into a dark alley, shrinking into the shadows. The moonbeams felt like spotlights, searching for her, watching her every move. Any other night, the silver light would have sparked easily off her bright fur, alerting any wolf who happened to look to a smudge of pink amongst the darkness. But tonight was different. Tonight, she was darkness.

From the tips of her ears to the tiniest wisps of her tail, Felicity was cloaked with a colour that faded into the night perfectly. It was strange to look down at her paws and see black. It had also been extremely difficult - and messy - to dye every inch of her fur without any help. But it was all necessary.

As she slipped from one street to the next, honing in on her destination, she reminded herself that every inch wasn't exactly accurate. There had been one place that was simply too risky to attempt to dye herself. So, around her eyes was a thin stripe of vibrant pink, curving like a bandanna across her snout.

Anyone who saw her would think she was a Shadewylf who had added the pink dye. No-one would ever consider the other possibility.

Crouching, she turned the final corner, placing her just a few pawsteps from the desired house. She was thankful that she'd thought to check the route in daylight beforehand, otherwise the journey would have been much more difficult.

Casting a sweeping glance at her surroundings, she spotted two wolves standing outside a few houses down, conversing in a volume that was inaudible to Felicity's flattened ears. Hurriedly, she bent lower, angling her snout in a way she hoped hid the glinting pink marker.

Fortunately, they seemed too focused on their conversation to notice her. From the corner of her eye, she watched them curiously.

Then she recognised them.

It took all of her willpower not to flinch or gasp at the realisation. Pressing her fangs together, she observed them more closely, confirming her suspicion.

The same teal and yellow pairing she'd seen earlier that day. The same wolves she'd glared at fiercely from behind a wall, and who she'd sworn to hate for what they had done to Kyra.

Even after they'd disappeared inside the house, Felicity still trembled with pent-up anger. She let out a low snarl. Her mind flashed with memories of their yells, of Kyra's sobs. It didn't matter how many times Mak warned her. She couldn't prevent the roar in her heart, or the hiss of the darkness lurking within.

Shaking her head, she tried to shift her focus. She couldn't punish Kyra's parents, not yet. Right now, her task was revenge on a horrible Watchwolf.

In a few bounds, she crossed the street and approached the door. It clicked open with ease, and she slipped inside.

The first room was well-furnished, but untidy. Blankets and cushions lay strewn on the wooden floor, beside a central fireplace. There were vials of green liquid - which she guessed was his own poison - shoved on a shelf at the back, with some lying on their sides. She stared at them, wondering if they were worth stealing, before deciding against it. They were most likely of no value to him, since he could easily create more.

A quick scan of the second room at ground level confirmed it to be just as useless as the first. This one contained a few piles of dusty books, but nothing particularly valuable. Nothing he really deserved to lose.

Perhaps, like Rowtag, he keeps his most precious possessions near where he sleeps, Felicity thought, casting a glance towards the stairs. Was it worth the risk of waking him up?

Yes, whispered her heart. Go and gaze upon him, Fliss, as we exact our revenge.

She nodded. Even if he did wake, he wouldn't recognise her. All it would take was a soundless swipe.

Her blackened paws pulled her up the stairs in a few leaps, and into the Toxiwylf's sleeping chamber. It was smaller than the rooms below, yet still just as filled with mess and disorder. A pile of documents towered high in the corner, dangerously close to toppling over. One of the books, its dust momentarily brushed away, was discarded nearby. Right in the centre was the target wolf himself, a sizable blanket draped over his green bulk as he snored away.

Slowly, Felicity approached him, taking care to avoid any items that might betray her presence. As she stared at him, sleeping peacefully, not even vaguely aware of her approach, her previous fury pricked at her fur. Her claws curled in a silent threat.

No. Stop. She shook herself, yanking her gaze away from him. She was here only to steal from him. That was what he deserved. Nothing more was necessary.

Are you sure about that, Fliss?

Her tail flicked anxiously. You won't control me again. The thought felt like more of a whimper, a desperate plea to something far stronger.

The darkness persisted. Fury crept ever further across her torn mind. But don't you want to avenge me, Fliss?

Eyes flicking around the room, she desperately fought the rising anger, but she could feel her strength fading. Her fangs revealed themselves. She knew what she had to do. Every muscle, every bone in her body begged her to do it.

Maybe it would fix the broken piece of her heart.

Her eyes darkened. From her throat erupted a deep, vengeful growl. Her claws nicked the floor, tearing small scratches in the planks. With every step, she grew closer to him. Her victim.

Finally, she stood above him, one paw ascending to rest on his stomach. The rise and fall of his chest felt so soft, and so delicate. In sleep, he was vulnerable. Alone.

Yet she felt no pity. Her mind whispered of his cruelty, and Rowtag's selfishness, and Kyra's shaking limbs as she tried to weep away her pain. Even Jael's tiny comments and dismissive looks echoed in her ears, fuelling the intense fury that tinted her vision.

But it was a pair of eyes that drove her final action.

They glowed with a deep violet, sparkling with delight as they watched the life drain from a wolf below. Droplets of blood reflected in the void of the black pupils. They were the eyes that stared from her darkest nightmares, and lurked beneath even her most pleasant of dreams. That same scene. That same expression.

With his murderous gaze fixed at the forefront of her mind, she opened her jaw and leaned down.

Her breathing was rapid, which must have awoken the Toxiwylf, because his eyes snapped open. For a moment, the darkness receded. Their eyes met, and she saw the fear shining in his eyes.

Was I shown any mercy, Fliss? Did anyone care for my fear?

Her fangs sunk into his throat.

His cry only lasted a second before it cut out, fading into choked splutters. Her ears drank up the sound as she dug deeper, cutting into his flesh. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth, coating her fangs.

Even long after his life had been severed, she kept biting.

When at last she did pull away, her chest heaving and heart pounding, she gazed upon his broken form. Scarlet pools trickled from his neck. Splashes of blood had even reached the paper documents in the corner, painting them with red splatters.

As she studied the scene, Felicity felt a strange sense of satisfaction.

Her mind was completely blank as she dipped a claw neatly in the thick liquid. It was as if her body was moving of its own accord, acting on instinct and emotion rather than logical thought.

Stepping over the Toxiwylf, she crossed to the only section of floor not blood-stained. Her claw dragged across it, leaving a red line in its wake, to form a letter. Then another. She bathed her claw in blood again before scratching out a final two letters.

Pynk.

It was a name she'd come up with whilst she'd been administering the fur dye. Now, with her thoughts filled with blood, it was the only word that rose to the surface.

With a dismissive glance at the Toxiwylf, she strolled out of the room, her pace steady and calm. Her paw pads left scarlet stains on the stairs. Her tail swished behind her at a constant speed.

It had felt good to snatch his life away. But not good enough.

I have another victim, her heart snarled, fixated on the image of those speckled violet eyes. As she slunk out of the door, hiding her bloodied snout in the shadows, the wolf they belonged to was the only thing on her mind.

You're next.