PROLOGUE

The house was silent, its occupants sleeping in their beds unaware of the danger they faced. The yellow-eyed man walked up the stairs of the house without making a sound. The man was a demon, a supernatural creature that took pleasure in causing chaos in the lives of humans. This family in particular had caught his eye, given their lineage.

Beelzebub opened the door to a room, the sleeping couple unaware of their impending deaths. He had cursed their family with his blood for centuries. The Branwen lineage had been a proud hunter family stretching back thousands of years, and they had a particular interest in hunting demons, it was their specialty. The family had set their sights on Beelzebub, as he was the acting King of Hell while Lucifer was locked away. Beelzebub was previously an angel and had fallen alongside Lucifer, and had become the first of the angels to be changed into demons, who led the Princes of Hell.

Instead of simply killing them off, Beelzebub had thought of something even better. He had always wanted a child, and so he cursed the family by possessing their loved ones and conceiving a child of his own. He had watched through the years as the power of his blood wrecked the family. While the Branwen's had been formidable hunters, they were also very family orientated and wouldn't kill one of their own let alone a child. But his offspring would eventually die and his fun would be over until he conceived another.

Beelzebub was under the suspicion that the Branwen family was somehow protected by the Angels. Even though they were conceived of his blood, the children were not as powerful as he thought they would be, and always died young. But this child, this child was different, and he had come up to Earth to make sure of that.

He made quick work of the parents, pulling their hearts out of their chests before they could even become aware of what was happening. Then he went to his daughter. She looked like her mother, the woman he had laid with to conceive her. She had black hair and pale skin, and when he approached her eyes opened revealing the lightest pair of blue eyes he had ever seen. She already had his blood flowing through his veins, but Beelzebub had recently discovered that there was more that he could do to ensure that she was truly his child. The baby giggled at him when he touched her face, and held out her tiny hands to grab his single finger. "Daddy's little girl." He murmured to himself.

A sound alerted Beelzebub to another human in the house. This one he intended to leave alive so that she could be raised. He had planned everything out, and when the time was right when Lucifer was raised again, he would come to collect his daughter. A scream of despair shook the Branwen ancestral home, and Beelzebub knew he would need to hurry. He sliced open his hand and let a generous amount of blood pool before forcing his daughter to drink her father's blood. The blood would unlock more of her demonic powers as she grew older, and he would have a true successor.

The door burst open and a tall man with the same features as his child stood in his way. The gun he held fired a shot at him, but he had long since exited the body of the human he possessed.

Mason Branwen clutched his niece tightly to his chest, wiping the blood off of her mouth. Tears streamed down his face as he held the baby in his arms, his sister was gone. He didn't have time to think about their deaths he needed to protect the only family he had left. The girl cried when he ran down the stairs, jostling her. Hastily he packed a bag for the two of them, and with a heavy heart, he set fire to the home that had been in the Branwen family for generations.

Mason watched broken as his home burned in a blaze and his life fell apart. He swore up and down that he would kill Beelzebub once and for all so that his niece wouldn't have to go through what his family was cursed too. The fire brigade and the police showed up later, taking in the lone survivors of the unfortunate accident.

Freyja's life had been a brutal one not fit for a child. She was taught how to shoot as soon as she was old enough to hold a gun. Her uncle Mason had also made sure that she was well educated about the monsters that were out there in the world, and Mason made sure that he had trained her to take down a demon efficiently.

Mason had created a perfect soldier in Freyja and had most of all prepared her to one day kill Beelzebub if he was unable to. The only life she had known was the life of a Branwen Hunter. The life of killing.

The Branwen's were famous Hunters in the community and everyone respected them. Similarly, Freya had earned this fame as well when she had started hunting on her own at the age of 7. Many of the monsters underestimated Freyja because she was a child but that was where she took advantage of them. Freyja had been killing the toughest and most deadly monsters better than the grown hunters could. She had easily become the most renowned Hunter the Branwen family had seen in generations. Mason had been proud of the cold calculated hunter he raised for revenge for the Branwen family. He was obsessed with killing Beelzebub, so obsessed that he became erratic and unfocused, which resulted in his death.

When Mason died Freyja was only 11, but he had already taught her everything she knew, about hunting and about how to survive on her own.

She had salted and burned her Uncle's body then set out to begin her life alone.

Freyja's Uncle left her with a dark secret, of which she wasn't aware of herself.

A fate that would soon be revealed by her involvement with two equally destiny-bound men.