Chapter One

"The Wayland Boy must wed."

I roll my eyes at my impertinent mother.

"His third wife just left him, Mother," I say calmly, keeping my composure, "why would I want to marry a man who arouses such hatred from women?"

She pulls my hair tight, fixing the messy copper curls into a pretty braid and spinning me around to face her. "He has money and power and we are poor, Clarissa. Your Father and I cannot support you any longer,"

"Step-father. That man is not my father," I spit, venom laced in my voice.

She ignores it. She always ignores it.

"Michael Wayland wants a grandson. He will be more then generous to any women who can tie the young lad down."

"I don't want a kid, Mother! I'm barely out of childhood myself."

"It doesn't matter what you want anymore Clary," Mother hisses in my ear, bringing goosebumps to my skin. "We need this. You need this."

"You truly believe you took care of me, don't you? We both know that your husband snuck into my room every night, at least I surely did, and you still protect him and love him after knowing what he did to me. What he did to me every fucking night while you were reading a god damned book in the family room until finally I grew out of his type. I guess you're lucky that you've always looked young or else he would've left you to fondle someone else's daughter."

My face burns and I realize she has hit me, her palm's redness must match the color of my cheek.

I bite my lip, my teeth sinking into the supple flesh and piercing it and I savor the metallic liquid that floods into my mouth. I've always found that I like blood. It sounds weird, but I like the way it looks and feels against my fingers as I draw line after line across my skin. I like how it tastes when I'm holding myself together so tightly I must destroy a part of my cheek or lips in order to find a release. It feels good. It feels like control.

"Stop that," my mother orders, swiping the blood off of my lip and wiping it against her dark dress.

"I'm so happy for you, Mother," the words tumble out of me like an avalanche. "You're finally able to get rid of me, you're finally able to try again. Isn't that what you've always wanted? A new start?"

I look down at her extended belly. My brother is in there, tiny and innocent and loved. He'll never even know about me or what I endured. Maybe it's for the best. Maybe leaving this awful place will be better.

Or maybe I'll just have a different man touch in the middle of the night.

()()()()

The Wayland Estate is absolutely beautiful. A literal golden gate surrounds the entire property and it looks large enough to house three dozen families and each of them would get their own rooms. Many people live in the Wayland Estate, but the Lightwood Children are the most surprising. They were left there by their parents at the young age of eight and just grew up with the Wayland Boy and his father. My biological father actually lives in the Wayland Estate, I've never actually met him, but I've always known about his luxurious lifestyle. It was a lifestyle he didn't feel the need to include me in. The Wayland Estate has always posed itself as a place of greatness, but for some reason, I just feel like I'm walking into the next trap of my life.

I smooth down my gown as I enter the historic doors into the Mansion and the lack of color surprises me. I always thought the walls would reflect the creative minds and brilliant business men who have passed through here, but alas, the cream colored walls do nothing to excite the child in me.

The Choosing Ceremony happens every time someone of power needs to wed. Each of the Lightwood children got one, Aline Penhallow had her choosing ceremony just a few weeks ago, but somehow her engagement will be clouded by the Wayland Boy's third ceremony. No one knows why he can't keep a woman, he's heard to be absolutely gorgeous, but his spirits must be quite low in order to drive off so many ladies.

"Hi, um, that is a beautiful dress," a young man says to me, offering to help me out of my coat. I let him and he grabs the dark fabric and removes it from my shoulders, leaving me in the emerald gown my mother had picked out for me.

"You don't see much color in here, the Waylands keep it pretty plain," he continues, folding my coat over his arm.

"Well, that is an absolute shame," I respond, smiling sweetly at the boy.

He stares at me for a moment, too intently for my liking, but I don't dare say anything. I already have a low chance of being chosen to begin with, I should be friendly to as many people as possible.

"I'm Simon by the way," he reaches out his hand to shake mine and I take it gracefully.

"Clarissa."

"Well, that's a mouthful," he laughs and I raise my eyebrow, trying to make him nervous, and it works perfectly. "I mean its pretty, it's a really pretty name," he scrambles.

"I'll see you later, Simon."

"Yes, of course. I will also see you later too."

I walk into the room that holds the ceremony and I immediately feel misplaced. There are hundreds of woman and they're all dressed in dark gowns, except for me. They all wreak of elegance and poise and I am just the poor girl from the other side of town. This could not get any worse. The event has been going on for hours and I have just arrived. The Wayland Boy is probably too exhausted to even look at another woman at this point.

"Fuck me," I curse to myself, letting out a deep sigh.

"I would, but I feel like I should learn your name first?" a smooth voice calls out from behind me and I freeze. Slowly, I turn around and confirm my fears, I am faced with a man with golden hair and golden skin and even golden eyes. He is absolutely stunning and I can't help my jaw from dropping.

"Hi…" I say awkwardly, extending my hand, "I'm Clarissa."

"Jace Wayland," he says confidently and then grabs my hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it softly.

"I was afraid of that," I say to myself quietly.

"Pardon me?"

"Nothing," I respond.

"The staff will escort you to my room in a little while, I see you don't have any bags with you so I assume we'll have to pick you up some clothes, but that shouldn't be a problem."

My eyebrows draw together in confusion, "I'm sorry, what?"

"You are here for the Choosing Ceremony, right?"

I nod my head.

"Okay, well I chose you," he states matter of factly.

I let out a laugh, annoyed, "you don't even know me, shouldn't have a conversation first or something?"

"No, I'm good. We'll talk later tonight," he responds, starting to walk away from me.

"Wait," I grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks, "why me?"

He wraps his arm around my waist, before squeezing my hip through the fabric of the dress and his face is right in front of mine, his golden eyes glowing.

"I liked the dress," he says simply, and then he's gone.

So I haven't written a Clace story in a really long time, but I'm missing this coupe alittle extra right now, so let's see where this goes!