Prologue

A light silver-gray she-cat padded out of the trees. Her blue eyes glowed in the light of the moon, and she breathed in the scent of the leaves. Her fur was smooth, as if it had been cleaned recently, and she looked like she had been well cared for. Not that she was fat, or even plump: she was very slender and she looked like she could break at any second.

"Welcome, Ashstream."

The she-cat—Ashstream—jumped. She swiveled around. "Nightheart!" Her blue eyes were suddenly wide with fear. "Why have you come?"

"For you," replied Nightheart. His green eyes glowed evilly.

Ashstream shook her head. "I'm not becoming your mate, Nightheart."

Nightheart grinned. "That's what you think."

Ashstream was suddenly uneasy. Her eyes darted from side to side, looking for a place to escape. What was Nightheart going to do? It couldn't be that bad. If she yowled, the rest of FireClan would hear. Wouldn't they?

She was deputy, after all.

Nightheart growled softly. "Don't even think of escaping, Ashstream. You've always been too weak, and now I'm going to prove it to you."

Ashstream might have been deputy, and she might have been breathtakingly pretty, but she was not match for a strong, toned warrior who wanted something.

Nightheart leaped forward suddenly, taking Ashstream by surprise. She gasped and tried to struggle free, but Nightheart held her down.

"I'm sorry, Ashstream," he whispered. "But I have to do it. You wouldn't accept me."

Then he bit down on Ashstream's neck. Blood spurted from the wound. She gasped one more time, and then fell limp.

Ashstream didn't remember what happened next. All she knew was that the next thing she knew, her former mentor, Shadowclaw, was standing over her.

"Ashstream? Ashstream, are you all right?"

Ashstream tried to answer, but she was so weak she couldn't talk. Her blue eyes were wide, and she looked horrified.

"What's wrong, Shadowclaw?" she finally managed. She looked at the black she-cat urgently. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Ashstream…you're going to have kits."

Ashpaw awoke from her dream, her slender body trembling. She blinked her big blue eyes a few times. It hadn't been real. She'd had that dream quite a few times now, and she was beginning to wonder if it actually meant something. She couldn't be the beautiful silver-gray she-cat in the dream! That she-cat had a wonderful name: Ashstream, and she was so graceful that it was hard to believe. Not to mention that she was deputy.

But then she looked over at Nightpaw, sleeping peacefully next to her. He looked like Nightheart from the dream. He had the same dark fur and green eyes. But he wasn't muscled or handsome at all: in fact, he was rather scrawny. However, Ashpaw began to feel a prick of distrust, just the beginning of it…

Her mind still on her dream, she stretched and padded out of the den.

It was a glorious day. The sun streamed down into the camp, turning everything golden. Her silver-gray fur turned to gold.

"Ashpaw!"

It was her mentor, Shadowclaw. The black she-cat leaped over to her apprentice, her lithe body shining in the light. She looked down at the small silver-gray she-cat, her eyes gleaming. Shadowclaw was one of the few cats that actually trusted her. Most cats thought that she would be better off in the elders' den, caring for the old. Ashpaw hated being still. She wanted to run far off, where no one from FireClan could find her, save Shadowclaw.

"What?"

The black she-cat smiled. "There you are. I saw you staring off into nothing, and I wondered if something was wrong. But I guess nothing is."

Ashpaw nodded. "No, nothing's wrong. But why did you call me?"

"I thought we could go hunting," purred Shadowclaw. "You need to work on your hunting skills."

"Okay…"

The two she-cats headed out of the camp. Little did they know how much this little hunting trip would change their lives.