Chapter 1:
A Special Love
Sandstorm awoke on a brisk, warm new-leaf morning. She stood and stretched, then left the nursery where she had been staying ever since she began carrying Firestar's kits. Sandstorm padded up to the fresh-kill pile, feeling it was hard to crouch down with a swollen stomach. Firestar padded up to his mate.
"Hello Sandstorm," he meowed, "How are you feeling today?"
Sandstorm purred. "Good as I'll ever be with kits," she said. Firestar nuzzled her head. Sandstorm wanted them to be like this always. But suddenly Graystripe, ThunderClan's deputy, walked up to Firestar, signaling to him with his tail that he needed to talk to his leader.
"I have to go now," Firestar said. "See you later."
Sandstorm meowed a farewell, disappointed. He's Clan leader now, she thought, He has his duties. She picked out a vole from the pile and ate it quickly, then started back towards the nursery.
Firestar hated being away from his mate, Sandstorm, especially when she was expecting kits. But ThunderClan needed him. He was Clan leader, after all. But sometimes he longed to get away from it all, to escape somewhere to be alone with Sandstorm. But nowadays that rarely happened. He sighed.
"I'm going to take a hunting patrol out," he told Graystripe, and headed for the nursery without telling his deputy any more.
Once inside the nursery, he softly called, "Sandstorm," Sandstorm saw her mate and sprang to her paws.
"Yes, Firestar?" she meowed.
"I was going to take out a hunting patrol," Firestar stopped and looked his mate in the eyes. He knew that she knew what was up.
She nodded. "Of course," she whispered into her mate's dark ginger fur.
They were off, into the forest, wind trailing through their fur. Sandstorm had never felt so alive. They stopped in a sandy clearing in the midst of Tallpines, and they sat down, trying to catch their breaths. Firestar sat beside his mate and nuzzled her head. Sandstorm did the same back. They were in love, and they were going to have kits to prove it.
"I'll catch you a vole," Firestar meowed, and he bounded off into the undergrowth.
It didn't take longer than a few minutes for Firestar to catch a nice, fat, juicy vole for Sandstorm. He had just started back to where his mate was when he heard a loud, high-pitched yowling coming from where Sandstorm was. Firestar felt his blood run cold. He dropped the vole and raced through the bracken to find Sandstorm laying in the grass, her sandy-colored sides heaving and emerald green eyes wide.
Firestar hardly had time to think when Sandstorm spotted him and gasped, "Firestar," she panted, "Our kits are coming!"