Hi guys! Here's my third fanfiction. Btw sorry that I've been deleting this story twice now but I had been having problems with the story. So here it is. Hope you like it!

Chapter 1

I drove the sword through the air, barely missing the boy's face. It whistled past his ear and sliced his shirt a little. He huffed and thrust his sword forward. I moved quickly to the side and knocked his blade aside. The force of the blow sent the sword skittering across the floor far from his reach. He growled and lunged at me, knocking me off my feet. Both us slammed to the ground, a tangled mess of bodies. Just then, the doors of the training room opened. "You two are supposed to be mastering sword fight, not rolling on the ground like children," the man at the doorway growled as the doors slammed behind him. His big bulk made him look menacing and for a while both of us just lay on the floor, panting and trying to push each other off. "But still, you two are improving," the man smiled and we collapsed on the floor, laughing. The boy helped me to my feet and I accidentally bumped into his chest, causing me to blush a little. "There's been reports of several attacks. I want you to to go investigate," the man said. "Yes, Mr. Whitescar," the boy answered as we walked off to the showers.

You may have thought the world was a normal place, just humans mingling about, doing their own business. But in truth, there are others among you. Normal humans are called mundanes. Yes, there are others who are non-human. Werewolves, vampires, warlocks, fairies and demons and angels, they all exist in this world. And to keep the world in check, the angel Raziel created a race of warriors who are half angel and half human. They are known as Shadowhunters. The man who just walked in, that is my father, head of the Toronto Institute. Currently its only residents are just the three of us and two mundane servants with the sight. My best friend, William Lightwood, lives with us. His parents were very close with my father when they were alive, his father even being my father's parabatai. They were killed in a raid of a vampire's nest a few years back. Will does have relatives in New York and other places but he chose to stay here with me, which I am grateful for.

So now you think that since my father is a Shadowhunter and I live among Shadowhunters, I am a Shadowhunter. Well, to a certain extent, that is true. But I am not 100% a Shadowhunter. I am half Downworlder, half werewolf to be exact. My mother was a werewolf, born one. My family has had a long legacy for hating Downworlders, especially werewolves, even going after them without any reason or for the pleasure. One of my ancestors went hunting for a Shadowhunter turned werewolf, who was going on a killing spree until he was finally killed, but not before leaving three scars on my ancestor's face. That was where we got our family name, Whitescar and obviously our family symbol are three claw marks. Members of the Whitescar family have been known to go hunting for werewolves and killing them for sport. But with my father, he broke that tradition.

He met her while he was tracking down a rogue werewolf years back. She assisted him in hunting down and killing the werewolf. During that period of time, they fell in love and against all odds, they got married. Most Shadowhunters hated Downworlders and see them as trash no better than demons. My father had lost his family when he was young so he had no family to challenge him on his decision. My mother even came to live in the Institute with him. And after one year, I was born. My father said he remembered the day I was born, on a cold, winters night, snow falling heavily outside. The Silent Brothers had came and helped my mother deliver me, since Shadowhunters don't go to hospitals to give birth and all. My father said that I looked like my mother. But I never knew her. A few months after my birth, she was captured by old members from her pack and tortured for marrying a Shadowhunter, which was considered a disgrace and humiliating.

By the time my father and other Shadowhunters had turned up, she was gone, her throat slit. My father had mourned her but she couldn't be buried in the Silent City since she wasn't a Shadowhunter. He had taken her ashes and scattered them across a lake where they had first fallen in love together. I had never thought of my father as a romantic kind of person, being stern and strict at times but at times he does show kindness. He had ruthlessly hunted down the pack members who had killed my mother and slaughtered them where they stood. He said he made them suffer the way they made my mother suffer before she died. The Clave, knowing of the Institute's need of a new head and my father's ability to run it, appointed him as head. They had been against of him keeping me, being half angel and half demon but after much argument, they let him keep me as long as I could handle runes being drawn on my skin.

All these years, I had faced a lot of bullying from other Shadowhunter children due to my half-werewolf heritage. One of the proof of my werewolf heritage was my eyes. They were golden, although most people mistake them for hazel. My father says it makes me more beautiful. A half-Shadowhunter and half-werewolf child. A one of a kind freak of nature. To make up for that, I trained and trained, taking to the art of sword fighting. My father says that I could be one of the best sword-fighters of my time but I never stopped training, having trained for hours and hours into the night when I couldn't sleep. My father trains me, being an expert in sword-fighting himself and when I was twelve, he gave me a sword.

I remembered the day he pressed it into my hand, the metal cool in my hands. "This sword was used by our ancestor to kill the Shadowhunter who had turned himself into a werewolf, hence giving us our family name. It has been passed down in the Whitescar family for generations. Even though we have a bad history with Downworlders, I hope that we will be able to wipe that taint from our history," he said, pressing it into my twelve year old hands. I had squealed with happiness, having seen my father use it and carrying it around with him. All along the blade were multiple claw marks, marking it as the Whitescar family's sword. I had held the sword with both awe and fear. This very sword had been used to bring down many Downworlders, werewolves in particular, whose blood ran through my veins as well. I had often thought where I actually belong. Most Shadowhunters don't take the marriage of a Shadowhunter with a Downworlder very well and often scorned them. Downworlders hated half-breeds like me because I had angel blood mixed with their blood, making me neither one of them.

"Hey you, lost in your thoughts again?" Will asked and I snapped out of my reverie. I was currently soaked with sweat and smelled like a garbage can. I hit him in the shoulder before taking to the showers. I let the water pour on my face, washing all the dirt off me. As I rubbed soap all over my body, I took a glance at my Voyance rune. It marked me as a Shadowhunter but my eyes were my mark of being half Downworlder. My skin was scarred all over from being marked over the years. I showered quickly and toweled myself, wrapping my body and head with towels. I retreated into the changing room, pulling on my gear since we had to head out after dinner. Better to be ready now than later. Will came out from the shower as I exited, a towel wrapped around his waist. I couldn't help but blush. Muscles corded his arms and stomach, his skin scarred like mine. A smile played about his face and his green eyes seemed to light up. "So soon?" he grinned and I threw my dirty towels at him. He yelled as I left, grumbling that he had just showered.

I picked up my sword where I had left it and slung it over my shoulder. I walked down to the living quarters, since the training room was in the attic. The Toronto Institute was one of the biggest Institutes around and had one of the best training rooms. I went into my room and threw myself on the bed without taking of my shoes. I groaned softly into the pillows and turned around. My eyes fell on the only picture I have of my parents and me. My father had his arm around my mother, his face shining with happiness and love. My mother, her face tired but bright, her long black hair tumbling around her face. In her arms she clutched a small bundle of blankets, the little creature inside sound asleep. Me. I had looked in the mirror and seen my mother staring back at me. Sure, I had my fathers height and size but my face was a near mirror image of her. My father had often looked past me as though I wasn't even there as if I were someone else.

I had asked my father once why he didn't attempt to find another woman. " We Shadowhunters love differently from mundanes. When we fall in love, we hardly ever come out of it and if one dies, we never recover from it. It wouldn't be fair for you to have another woman as your mother. I still love your mother even after all these years and I never regretted having her or you. You were our greatest creation," he had said, looking distant. Well, I don't know how true is that for having a half-breed of a child. One of the Toronto Shadowhunters, Thomas Cartwright often tease me when he came over for training. By the angel, I had never had the urge to not thrust my sword through him. His parents were just as bad as him and rarely helped my father and the other Shadowhunters in investigation work. I sat on my bed, staring at the picture in my hand. "Why, mum? Why did you have to die?" I whispered just as the dinner bell rang.

During dinner, my father filled us in on the killer, who apparently was a vampire had gone rogue and went on a killing spree. His clan had handed him over to us to be dealt with.. "Shouldn't be difficult. They had managed to find him lurking in one of the Downworlder haunts. If negotiation fails, you know what to do," he said. I felt my stomach clench. Missions involving catching and mostly killing Downworlders often make me feel sick due to my connection with them. So I tried not to engage with them often and let Will do the finishing blow. As we headed to the weapons room to get weapons, my father pulled me over to a corner. "Don't worry. Don't think so much about it," he said as Will came over and handed me a few seraph blades. "I will," I said but deep down I felt worried.

Hope you guy enjoyed it. I started a fanpage called Shadowhunters Fanfare and I hope you'll go like the page. Reviews below!