Thank you for all the reviews/favs/follows! I can't believe we are at 80 favorites, 500-something reviews, and 100 follows! Gosh, I don't even know what to say. I'm so grateful to all of you for supporting me! :D 3 Thank you so much!

Anyway, a quite note. Smokepaw may not be what you guys expect from him, and his personality may seem very odd to you and confusing- but it will be explained/revealed with time. Also, keep in mind that Smokepaw will be very important throughout this plotline. :3 This chapter may also be confusing because there is a lot of POV switches ._. so I'm sorry about that. But I really like this chapter, and I reallyreallyreallyreally can't wait to write more about Smokepaw because I think the part he's going to play is super important and interesting.

...

"Do you think it would be okay if Rowanpaw came with us on patrol, Lionblaze?"

It was with an overwhelming sense of envy that Smokepaw watched the she-cat talk with her mentor. The young apprentice's pelt was groomed neatly, her dainty body seated directly in front of her mentor's body. A surprised look crossed his face, but a pleasant smile tugged at his lips as he gave her a nod of agreement, "sure, I'll go ask Berrynose right now."

The young gray tom had narrowed his eyes as he saw the apprentice sitting by herself. However, she never looked lonely, simply lost in her thoughts. After a while, her eyes seemed to clear and they trailed across the clearing in a desperate search for a red-and-white tortoiseshell whom Smokepaw knew all too well. Rowanpaw.

A familiar sense of jealousy bubbled up in his stomach, and he had to force the angry scowl off his face. The two sibling's parents had left the previous afternoon; mother crying and father giving words of advice. Just like that, the two kits were practically orphaned. Yet fate seemed in Rowanpaw's favor, as that apprentice had taken her under her wing, and they were always together.

The previous day, Rowanpaw and Firepaw had padded out of camp on patrol together, their pelts pressed together, muscles rippling against one another. They were closer than best friends. Closer than him and Rowanpaw. They were like sisters who had grown up together, who had grown up loving one another. But they weren't. Smokepaw was her sister. He was the one who had twined their tails together when she had awoken from a frightful nightmare. He was the one who had reassured her it would be alright before they left. It was all him, not Firepaw. Yet two sunrises after meeting her, his sister seemed completely bewitched by the older apprentice.

A nasty scowl had settled itself on his face, and he couldn't bear to watch the ginger she-cat anymore. He didn't know if it was jealousy he was feeling for Firepaw, since she was so close to his sister, or if it was the jealousy he felt for Rowanpaw, as she was so close to the older apprentice, and seemed to be fitting in so well.

Getting to his paws, he began to prowl around the clearing, paws restless and tingling with irritation. He wanted to claw something, to push off the ground in a tremendous leap and skim across the forest floor. To feel the breeze running through his fur, the soft crunch of leaves and earth beneath his paws, the adrenaline pumping through him.

However, as he tilted his head to the side and fixed his sister and Firepaw in yet another intense, burning gaze, he felt all the thoughts about himself running free in the forest evaporate. Rowanpaw was so cute and innocent, he thought. With her perfect round eyes and soft fur, and that cute little smile that often tugged shyly at the edges of her lips- she didn't know how pretty she was. Pretty like an angel. Firepaw, was the exact opposite. She seemed to know her beauty. She was stunning, with clear emerald-green eyes and beautiful sleek flame-colored fur. Unlike the shy smile his sister possessed, hers was impish, sly. She wasn't as angelic or innocent, but wasn't any less beautiful.

Wandering around camp, he briefly paused at a puddle, staring at his own reflection. He had sharp, harsh features, unlike his sister's soft ones. Angular cheekbones, sharp triangular ears. He noted himself to be quite handsome. Despite his not being as fit as most other clan-cats, he smirked a little as he saw the muscle rippling beneath his thick, glossy pelt with each step he took. He stared back at his beautiful, round eyes. He too, shared in the angelic beauty that his sister so delicately possessed, but it was hidden beneath the sharp, angry scowl. Hidden by that hate-filled, scornful spark in his beautiful amber orbs.

However, he didn't mind. He didn't think of his angelic features as irritating, nor did he think of his scowl and hate were tainting his purity. He thought it all fell into place- like a puzzle. A small smile stretched across his face as he tilted his head, pondering about it. It was true, he did have the face of an angel, but he had the heart of a demon. Wild, untamed, not afraid to kill. And yes, it was true, he could use his angelic features to bewitch those of an innocent heart, yet could still use it to bewitch those with a tainted soul.

An icy cold smile replaced the small one, and his eyes were like chips of ice as he stared forward. Ever since he was a kit, he was full of contempt of his mother, of his father. What cowards they were- hiding away in that barn, with those housefolk who had fed them, not brave enough to ever flee. Smokepaw knew he would never be a coward. The gray-and-white tom knew that he was too good for that, for them. He was too good for this clan, in fact. However, with a twitch of his whiskers, he decided that this clan could be his new playtoy- if not now, then later.

It was true, Smokepaw was just an apprentice now. But soon enough he would be a warrior- an amazing one at that. He was handsome, talented, fast, and skilled. After he would become a warrior, the clan leader naturally would gift him with an apprentice. Not a blessing to him, but a blessing to the apprentice. It wasn't often that a young cat was lucky enough to be taught by someone as smart as him. Afterwards, senior warrior. Then naturally, the deputy would step down, as it was only fitting he be the next leader. If he were lucky, then the leader would pass on his leadership- yet if he was not… His gaze flitted to his claws, and a cruel, not-at-all remorseless look came in his eyes. If the leader didn't allow him to seize control of the clan, then there would be one option left- for him to die.

After all, it was only fitting for a cat as great as Smokepaw to become leader, right?

…

"Why is your brother staring off into nothingness," Firepaw meowed, looking startled by the intense fire that was burning in the younger apprentice's eyes, yet also the icy calmness as he stared solidly forward, his gaze fixated on something that wasn't visible, "it's sort of creepy."

The red and tortoiseshell she-cat beside her didn't seem to be surprised, just shrugged her shoulders. She padded lightly towards Firepaw, her black-tipped ears twitching and blue eyes round. She followed the older apprentice's gaze to her brother, who was sitting, his muscles tense, body poised to strike, a hungry, intense gleam in his eyes as he stared at something before him- something he could see, yet wasn't visible to any others.

"I don't know," Rowanpaw admitted, twitching her ears, "I guess he just likes to be deep in thought or something like that. Or maybe he conjured another fantasy about himself being the best and all that. He has a very high sense of self-worth."

The ginger she-cat couldn't help herself. "I know," she muttered, lashing her tail in irritation, "that tom thinks himself to be the greatest creature in all of the lake and StarClan. Forget StarClan's blessing- more like the dark forest's blessing." She snickers a little at her own joke, but hears no response to Rowanpaw. She is worried momentarily that she had hurt the fragile she-cat's feelings, then remembers belatedly that the blue-eyed she-cat didn't believe in StarClan or the Dark Forest.

"Well, he's coming on patrol with us," A golden tabby tom meowed, padding up to the two chatting apprentices, looking slightly amused, "Firepaw, I know you hate him- but try to be civil, okay? And Rowanpaw, I'm sorry but you won't be coming on patrol with us because Berrynose is going to be taking you out hunting."

Both she-cats looked crestfallen, Rowanpaw more than the ginger she-cat. Firepaw was already silently seething, shooting her mentor the most narrowed, hate-filled, angry glare that she could. Why would Lionblaze force her to patrol with this tom? This tom with the inflated ego that seemed not to care about anything aside from himself? She had done her best to ignore him ever since she had first met him, her eyes narrowed in hatred and disgust every time she saw him.

As the gray-and-white tom got a nudge from his mentor, a pleasant smile crossed his face. He got to his paws, his gaze locking with Firepaw's. He strolled towards her as if he were the leader of ThunderClan, his pawsteps graceful and muscles rippling beneath his thick pelt. It was odd that he was so muscular- being a barn cat. His sister was so skinny that she had hardly any muscle on her.

"Hello, Lionblaze," he greeted the senior warrior politely, dipping his head courteously. Then, his gaze fell on Firepaw. He seemed completely different than the last time they had spoken. His eyes brightened, a smile lighting up his features. He lazily drew his eyes over her pelt. He seemed to be taking in every strand of fur, every curve, every streak of color. When he lifted his gaze, he seemed to stare into her eyes, and Firepaw tried not to get lost in his eyes. "Hello, Firepaw," his voice was bright, cheery, but the sickening sweetness of it made the ginger she-cat want to gag, "aren't you looking pretty today?"

The ginger she-cat had to force herself not to strike a paw forward and slash it down his cheek, but took in a deep breath and tried to contain her anger. Gritting her teeth, she forced out an angry mutter, "just go talk to somebody else. I'm not interested in you or your inflated ego." With that, the she-cat forced herself to tear her gaze away from the tom and to busy herself in staring at her mentor. There was something tugging her back to him, to stare at his dazzling amber eyes once more, that fake yet so angelic smile, his neatly groomed yet so ruffled pelt. In order to busy herself, she counted every stripe on her mentor's pelt, forcing her mind off of him as they awaited Mousewhisker.

The gray-and-white tom, pelt similar to his apprentice and half-brother, bounded towards them after a while. "Sorry," he apologized, blinking his blue orbs, "I hadn't eaten this whole morning and was completely famished, so I had a mouse." Mousewhisker flicked his tail at his apprentice, beckoning him towards himself before the two of them padded forward. Lionblaze padded forward as well, with a harsh nudge at his apprentice as she sulked, walking gloomily behind the rest of the patrol.

There was something about Smokepaw that just seemed so odd. It may be the way he looked so focused at her, as if he were stripping her down with his eyes, and yet they were so clouded, that he was so lost in his own fantasy that he couldn't see her as others would see her.

She didn't know what it was, but it frightened her.

…

Smokepaw didn't mind the coldness of which Firepaw had addressed him with. Of course she would be ice-cold, after the harsh meeting they had the previous day. That day he was in an angry, kit-like mood. He had thrown a tantrum the morning before leaving, bawling and screaming with his piercing cries that he did not want to leave. And yet, now he was here, and he felt no longing to return to that dreadful, piteous place of which he had once called home.

The tom didn't mind having to wait. He was patient. He had a whole life-time to wait for her, and soon, very soon, she would be his. Soon enough, they would all be his. For he was more powerful than their so-called silly StarClan. He was more fierce, more deadly than their so-called Dark Forest. He had a heart that longed for love, but possessed an equal longing for blood. Blood for what- he didn't know, but he had always had a sick fascination.

Perhaps it had begun when he was a moon old. That day, his parents had given him a mouse and warned him not to play with it before eating it. His spoiled, kit self threw a tantrum about that, and of course the rebellious streak, and his inflated ego told him that he was better than his parents and could do as told. So he took the mouse, and he delicately scratched his small claws across it. It was warm, freshly-killed, and it had bled. The blood soaking his claws had put a sick, yet insanely happy smile on his face for days.

The young tom had been taught to hunt at an early age. Catching mouse in that barn was the furthest thing from difficult. They were so pathetic and fat that he could catch it without even putting any effort- a single swipe of his paw, if lucky, would knock over some mouse that happened to be passing by. But he never killed them. Not before playing with them a little. He would often slice his claws across their fur, to mutilate and make them bleed, before ending their miserable lives. He wasn't fascinated by blood, he was obsessed with it.

…

Firepaw unease only grew as Smokepaw's gaze lingered on her pelt, refusing to leave. They had padded for quite a while, and although she was chatting with her mentor, every time she turned around she saw that Smokepaw's intense gaze was fixed on her pelt. As they padded along the lake, Lionblaze's eyes widened in alarm.

"A RiverClan patrol is in the marshes at the gathering island," Mousewhisker reported, his ears twitching as the cats in the own patrol noticed them. The patrol was lead by Reedwhisker, and there were four other cats with him. Duskfur, Fishpaw, Icewing, and a she-cat that Firepaw didn't recognize. When the RiverClan patrol noticed them, Reedwhisker muttered something to Icewing and the white she-cat dove into the water, her apprentice following her, and the two swam towards the ThunderClan patrol.

Suddenly, she felt as if the scorching gaze was lifted off her pelt, and she twisted her head around to stare in surprise at Smokepaw. The gray-and-white tom's eyes were wide with shock as he stared forward, leaning forward slightly, his eyes fixated on that she-cat that the ThunderClan apprentice didn't recognize.

…

That she-cat, who he didn't even know the name of, was the most beautiful creature that Smokepaw had ever laid his eyes upon. Her pelt and eyes more vibrant than Firepaw's. Her features more angelic than Rowanpaw's. She had a spark of the fiery passion and determination of which Firepaw had, but her smile was shy, embarrassed, pure. She was an innocent soul- just like his sister. A blush snaked up her cheeks as her gaze locked with his.

He sucked in a breath. She had the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen. They were almost a crystal blue, simply dazzling, and he felt himself drawn towards them like a cat towards a mouse. Her pelt was also gorgeous, just as the rest of her. It was soft yet sleek, and was thick and lush. It was a beautiful silvery-gray color by itself, but he could see that it was tinted with a unique yet so fitting blue color that seemed to remind him of her eyes, and of the beautiful lake of which they all depended on for life. She had an angel's smile, so pure, so innocent, but her eyes showed that she was no pushover, and could stand up for herself if necessary, as they were alight with a flame. A beautiful, crystal blue flame.

"Hi," he breathed, his voice shaking. As he leaned forward, he almost stepped over the border before a voice in his head briefly reminded him not to. He saw her blush more fiercely, and he couldn't resist the giddy smile that had stretched itself across his face, "my name is Smokepaw, and may I just say that you are the most fine specimen that I had ever lain my eyes upon."

As he spoke, he heard a scoff from Firepaw as she stared at him with a disgusted look in her green eyes. His gaze flickered from the gray-blue she-cat to her, and he almost hissed in disgust. Standing next to this stunning she-cat with her beautiful blue eyes, Firepaw looked as plain, as ugly as any other cat. She was worthless to him now, meaning nothing. All he wanted was that she-cat, and no border would be able to separate him.

If he was greater than StarClan, then he would be greater than some silly code, wouldn't he? Yet, getting her to believe that would be another matter. He could see it in the way she walked, the way she composed herself, that she was as loyal to her clan as a dog to it's housefolk. But he was determined to break that loyalty, to replace the loyalty to the clan with the loyalty to him.

"I'm Frostpaw," she meowed shyly, not even willing to meet his eyes. Oh, how desperately the young tom wanted to stare into her beautiful eyes once more. He was staring at her pelt, fantasies consuming his mind. How much more beautiful she would be, standing next to him. His pelt brushing against his, his muscles pressing against hers, his sharp-tipped ears brushing against her soft ones. He wanted her so much it took his breath away. He had thought that Firepaw was the most beautiful she-cat he had ever seen once, but next to this… this… this Frostpaw, the comparison seemed a beautiful crystal to a pile of dirt.

The rest of the ThunderClan patrol, and Icewing, seemed to be staring, startled, at the two apprentices. At the tension that crackled between them, such so that drew Smokepaw to the very edge of the border. He was so close to her, he could almost feel the heat pulsing off her body. He could almost feel the softness of her fur against his own. Her heartbeat mixing with his. She was so unique, so beautiful. He had to have her.

He didn't even hear when his mentor began to strike up conversation with the other patrol. He ignored the fierce, but also confused glare that was fixed on his back from Firepaw. He ignored the flashing, threatening eyes from the white she-cat across the border who seemed protective of the RiverClan apprentice- her mentor, he assumed.

Almost as if she couldn't help herself, Frostpaw slowly inched towards him as well, until their pelts were not even a full fox-length from touching. "Will you meet me?" Smokepaw whispered, not at all afraid to ask. He knew with an overwhelming sense of confidence that she was as smitten with him as he was with her, as he was a remarkable tom. He was not at all afraid of rejection. And he shouldn't be.

Her mouth opened and closed, before a soft sigh slipped out along with a murmur, "okay. Do you want to meet here?" she asked him, her crystal eyes locked with his, "but my clan cant find out. I'm a RiverClan apprentice, and I care about the code, StarClan, and RiverClan."

He wanted to tell her that he was greater than StarClan, greater then the code, greater than RiverClan. But he didn't. Biting his tongue, he nodded rapidly. "Of course," he murmured to her, glancing upwards to see if anybody was watching, and grimaced as he saw Firepaw's eyes still fixed on the two of them. So desperately he wanted to touch Frostpaw. "Lets meet here tonight," his eyes were focused as he stared at her, and she gave him the tiniest of nods. Then the two pulled back, just as the Lionblaze had stopped meowing to Icewing. The she-cat nodded and beckoned her apprentice towards her.

Smokepaw smiled and smiled.

He had found someone more pure and innocent than Rowanpaw.

More beautiful and spirited than Firepaw.

More fascinating than blood.

Someone that was supposedly off limits to him.

He had found someone that would fill in all the emptiness in his soul.

And he knew that it wasn't just love he felt, but also the dark, never-releasing feeling of obsession.