Tessa never thought she would be walking the streets of London ever again after she had so hastily fled from it right after she had recovered from their final battle with Mortmain. She still feel her flesh burn as she was engulfed by the Angel Ithuriel's heavenly fire when she Changed into him to stop Mortmain from killing the Shadowhunters of the London Institute.
She winced as she absentmindedly rubbed a hand over her heart. The pain never went away, even after spending 8 years away from the source of this pain, a certain boy with black hair and eyes as blue as a night sky in hell-as the warlock Magnus Bane had once said, although she and Magnus had remained friends over the years-the same boy who she once thought was broken and had wanted to fix but instead had fallen hopelessly in love with. Before he had pushed her away to protect her from a curse. Before she became engaged to his parabatai.
Their names crept into her mind and with them brought a fresh wave of pain. Will and Jem.
Her mind was instantly flooded with memories of the two boys who had equally possessed her heart. And with the pain at the thought of losing either one of them, one to his terminal sickness and the other to the darkness of his curse. She dared not think of the day she was taken by Mortmain and Jem's face of pure sorrow when he could not save her, blood trickling into his clothes. She dared not think of Will's soft voice when he held her in his arms when he found her in Cadair Idris, whispering words of comfort while shedding his own tears as Tessa mourned Jem's death.
She dared not think of the feel of Will's lips, desparate and urgent on hers, as they molded into one.
And she most definitely cannot think of the shock-and the shame-that went through her as she saw Jem, alive and strong and bearing the runes of a Silen Brother, fighting side by side Will against the automatons.
After that battle against Mortmain and his automatons, after she had regained full recovery, Tessa had escaped from the Institute in the dead night, and got on a ship to New York. She watched as the ship sailed away from London, away from the Institute, away from them. She vowed to herself that she would never come back.
Tessa was shaken from her reverie when the ship's horn had announced they were about to make dock. She looked around and gathered her bearings.
She felt a gentle tug on her skirt and looked down to see big, golden eyes stare back at her. Messy black hair, curling at the humidity and pale skin, he was the picture of perfection and felt her heart warm.
"Momma, are we here?" he asked
Tessa gave her son a tight smile and gently squeezed his hand.
"Yes, James." She looked toward the dock. "We're here."