PROLOGUE

There was no moonlight. No stars, no moon, not a single pinprick of light hung in the black sky. The landscape was lit up by an eerie, yellowish-green glow, cast by fungus that grew on the sides of tall black trees with broad, dark green leaves. In these trees, crouched in the shelter of a root, was a small, dappled silver she-cat, her blue eyes wide and her body shivering with terror. As pawsteps sounded on the ground, she shrank soundlessly further into the large, curved root.

But the cause of her terror found her nonetheless. A pale gray tom leaped up gracefully to the root and gazed down at her coldly. His fur was flecked with dark gray, and his eyes were a clear, icy blue.

The she-cat let out a tiny mewl of distress as the sickly light of the fungus touched his fur to white and he blazed before her, so powerful and handsome, so admirable, and yet so terrifying. For with his presence was always pain, and she could not understand it, no matter how hard she tried. She walked this place in her dreams, against her will; he forced himself into her dreams. She was always brought here, and he always found her. Always.

Part of her hated him, down to her very soul, down to her very fiber of being. But part of her loved him, wished she could love him.

"Don't," she whispered.

But it happened anyway. It always did. He leapt down to her and within moments the pain came, and she couldn't fight it; this was his territory, his element. Here he knew what to do. He knew cruelty, and he knew love. Both of these things swirled together when he was with her.

Then the pain was over, and she lay trembling. He backed away. "I love you," he told her, like he did every night.

"I love you too," she whispered, like she whispered every night.

And he turned and padded away, and she admired the play of muscles under his pelt, and the confident sway of his tail, and how the eerie light of the fungus didn't turn him green, but blazing pale gray and white, and how his paws almost seemed to float above the ground.

One day, StarClan would find out, and she dreaded that day, just like she dreaded every night, and fought sleep so she would not come here, but eventually it claimed her, and half of her let it claim her, and brought her here willingly.

Will I never get away?