Prologue

                                    

                                          
A/N: Hey y'all! New book and new chapter! And, as a bonus, two new perspectives (POVs)! Yay! Hope y'all enjoy. Let me know what y'all think in the comments.
                          
*********Frostfang's POV********
                          
Frostfang moved at a leisurely pace through the Twoleg Place. The empty streets were lined with trash, the alleyways dank a dark. The city was no place for a forest cat to live. It was no place for him to live. Unfortunately for him, Frostfang didn't have the luxury of living in the forest he called home. The fox hearted cowards that lived their currently didn't want him there. It wouldn't be too far to say they happily kill him if he tried.
                          
He looked at his paws. A soaking wet object was concealed underneath one, the Mortal Moss was never dry, as all the legends said the Angelic artifact remained wet as long as an angelic influence was in the world. Without an Angelic influence, it would dry up hence forth ceasing to be. It was a strange thing to think about, a world without light. Surely that could never exist?
                          
Frostfang knew that the nephilim are superior above all other cats, but many other Shadowhunters did not share his ideals. Blossomstar and most all of HunterClan have lost their way...it is up to me to return them to it. He tried his experiments in the past, hoping to better himself. It was only several experiments later that he realized that his injections did not work on full grown cats. 
                          
He understood that the only way to make powerful cats was to alter their DNA before they were born. Wanting only the best for his children, he injected them first. Slashkit was his very first trial. His demonic blood would make him a brand new sort of powerful, that was for sure.
                          
His thoughts drifted to Goldenpaw, the scratch he'd left on Frostfang's muzzle a pink slice on his skin. He doubted the stubborn young tom even realized he'd managed to nick the Circle leader before Frostfang had flung him into a tree. Not that it matters, but it's nice to see how strong he is already...the experiment clearly worked. 
                          
As the young tom wasn't a warrior yet to his knowledge, he doubted Goldenpaw knew of the power he possessed. He will soon, and once he joins my side I'll give him plenty direction on how to use that power. In the mean time, I'm going to further enact my plan. 
                          
He smirked at his surroundings, he was just where he wanted to be. Before the Circle leader was what could best be described as a demolished building. All but the front of the structure was completely destroyed. Piles upon piles of ruined brick lay atop the surrounding street and sidewalk. It was no surprise that the Twolegs had closed down this Thunderpath. Bright yellow tape with black lines were stretched across the pavement, connected to equally bright orange cones.
                          
Sometimes, Frostfang did not understand Twolegs. To him, they moved around like unchallenged prey. They had no real predator to stop them from doing stupid things....except for themselves. This made them foolish and stupid by all means to him. Without an enemy, they were left to squabble amongst themselves, many refusing to fight for a common cause. This is why cats are better than Twolegs ever will be.
                          
With a determined nod to himself, he made his way into the structure. With careful paw steps he moved around the bricks hapzardly strewn on the ground. Going through the front would make no sense. Not only was the brick walling intact, the green sign reading Barney's Hardware and Weapons was still there, it's oval plate having lost its fluorescent lighting ages ago. Underneath the sign was two small square windows and a door. 
                          
The door wasn't one of those revolving things. No, instead it was a dull blue, the paint faded and chipping away slowly. Underneath was the original brown color. Its doorknob was rusted beyond repair. He had to hide behind one of the cones earlier, watching as a Twoleg kit toddled over to the door, tugging the knob. It didn't have any understanding that the thing wouldn't budge, no matter how hard he tried.