Now this is not just an A/N but an actual chapter for you that I've actually had written for quite some time. I just wanted to finish the next next chapter, which I have and incorporated a fan request. Keep them coming.
Jace slammed the door behind him, tossing Clary into the room before he did. She ripped her wrist from Jace's grasp, spinning angrily on him.
"Jace, what the hell?" she shouted, angry and confused. She'd just shoved a sword through his chest, she was emotionally shattered and he was acting like a jackass. "What's wrong with you? What happened? I killed you!"
"No, you didn't, Clary," Jace said, keeping his eyes averted from her. He began pacing anxiously, like a caged lion.
"Then what the hell did he do?" she snapped angrily, throwing her arms up in frustration.
"A test, it was all a test, aided by his twisted powers that Lilith bitch gave him," Jace growled. He still wouldn't look at her. Clary rubbed her wrist gently, where Jace had gripped her. It was starting to ache, but then again, Sebastian had pinned her down last night, and suffice to say she wasn't a coward.
All of a sudden, Clary deflated, her anger draining away as she sunk down on the edge of her bed. She slowly pulled off her hunting boots, her gear vest to reveal a thin, sleeveless blouse, minus one bra and her weapons belt. With her big, sad, green eyes, she looked up at her pacing lover.
"Baby, come here," Clary asked, her lower lip sticking out. Not on purpose of course, she wasn't trying to look sad and pitiful so Jace would calm down. Not at all. She raised her arms, silently asking for him to fill the empty space there. Jace looked up harshly, his amber eyes blazing with golden fire. It scared her deeply but she didn't lower her arms. In fact she shook her arms slightly for emphasis.
Jace sighed sharply but his shoulders slumped as he trudged over to her. He crashed into her arms as though a ton of bricks pressed down on his shoulders, driving her to the bed so he could pillow himself on top of her. She winced slightly as he hit a bruise on her side and he pulled back, frowning down at her.
"I'm sorry, babe. Would you like me to make it better? I wouldn't blame you if you don't but I thought I would offer," Jace said softly.
Clary pursed her lips and turned away. "No, not tonight, Jace," Clary murmured. "Where did you go during the test? You fought me but you were dead eyed and when I… you didn't bleed," she said hoarsely, running her hands through his thick golden hair as he readjusted himself to lie beside her.
Jace was silent as nighttime. He fingered a scar at his throat, shifting uncomfortably as Sebastian had last night when he'd passed out on his back. When he still didn't answer, Clary placed a hand on his shoulder. And it felt like a dagger was shoved through her heart in turn as he rolled away, putting his back to her. She scoffed and sat up on her elbows.
"Jace! What happened?"
Jace hunched his shoulders, as though he wanted to implode on himself. "He put me in the same place you were. But your eyes weren't dead. They were full of hatred as you attacked me," Jace said. He paused for a long time and the silence began to choke her. If it was possible, he shrunk smaller. "I slit your throat without a second thought."
Clary fell back on the bed. She gave a dry laugh. "Well, I shoved my sword through your heart," Clary replied. "So I guess we're even." Jace made a laugh that sounded like a cough, but he didn't turn back to her. He was like a moody teenager all over again.
"He did it to make us doubt each other," Jace said starkly, like it was a known fact. When Clary looked at him funny, he elaborated. "I've been in his head, baby. You said my eyes were dead, that is because Sebastian knows you are terrified I'll go back to being his slave," he said, trailing off for a quiet moment. She could hear the hurt and fear beating in his chest; she took his hand as comfort and smiled when he squeezed.
"And he made your clone seem like you hated me and wanted to gut me because I fear your rejection," he said quietly, but still said it. Jace trusted her enough now that he could say anything. She already knew all his weaknesses and fears so he didn't need to hide them. She stripped him naked and didn't harm him, she covered him back up and protected him, just as he did with her. "He was attempting to drive a stake of doubt between us."
"But we're not cowards anymore," Clary confessed softly. "There is no doubt whatsoever between us and there are no secrets. That is the only way we can survive in Edom."
Jace nodded grimly and released her hand, both of them content to bask in each other's presence.
"What was your promise?" Jace asked quietly after a long, exhausted silence.
"What?" Clary asked from her side of Jace's back, her eyes closed.
"You stopped Sebastian from hurting Izzy. He said he would hold you to your promise," Jace said and she frowned.
"I-I don't remember," Clary lied easily, tucking her hands behind her head.
"I thought there were no secrets between us," Jace said, rolling back over to his other side so he could watch her profile. "But you've gotten better at lying." Jace smiled at that, an amusing thought that she would have gained that skill living here, when the truth was so valued between the two of them.
But Jace understood that now their year was over, some things were better kept as secrets, to save the other from the unnecessary pain. So Jace sighed and kissed her cheek.
"Alright, baby, I understand. Just be safe," Jace said tiredly before laying back down beside her. He wished he could lay on his back with her but the scars prevented it, so he remained on his side, facing his redhead rather than away this time. He watched the swell and fall of her chest beneath the light sleeveless blouse, remembering a path that Sebastian's mouth had taken over her delicate skin last night while he was made to watch.
Clary had popped the top view buttons in the past quiet hour they had been laying here and Jace lifted his hand to trail along that path Sebastian had probably burned into her skin. His calloused fingers started at the hollow of her throat and his light touch made her gasp but her breathing only picked up as his fingertips scraped against her sternum, down her chest, between her unbound breasts. His thumb popped another button and Clary moaned with content, arching her back to push her breast into his open palm.
Jace smiled to himself and squeezed gently, making his little redhead sigh. He could tell, as he followed the actions of Sebastian from last night, he was burning away his touch, the feel of him. His hand trickled down from her breast, popping the remaining buttons of her vest before reaching her gear pants: tight, flexible material that hugged her legs. Clary put one hand over his, her eyes still closed, her breathing ragged as she bit her lip.
Last night, Sebastian had taken Clary's hand and done things to her with it, to make it seem she was doing them to herself, but now the position was reversed. Clary guided Jace's hand into her pants and made him cup her with his large, warm palm. Jace let her do what she wanted with his hand, and she was quietly vocal about it, turning her head so that her nose brushed Jace's as he watched her face contort and relax with pleasure, eyes closed.
His Clary needed this, needed to feel in control of her own body and do with it what she wanted after being forced to do so many unwanted things the previous night. And Jace loved the feeling of her heat, the warmth as she moved his fingers to her liking but Jace twitched them every once in a while, making her moan softly against his cheek. This went on until Clary was throbbing and she'd opened her eyes to find Jace watching her.
"I lied," she said and surged forward to kiss him. "I want you to make it better," she whispered hoarsely against his mouth. Jace nodded obligingly and swung his leg over her to brace himself as he took her hand from her pants with his free one and twined his fingers with hers, laying their joined hands by her head as they kissed heatedly.
He continued occupying between her legs with his hand for a few more minutes, greedily hoarding her moans and gasps with his lips. Clary's free hand wanted to do something naughty, so she slipped it into Jace's matching gear pants and closed her hand. She could never say Jace wasn't well endowed. Jace faltered, choking on his own moan.
"Angel, Clary," he groaned, his hips jerking in reaction.
"Yes, Jace?" Clary asked, teasing him verbally and physically. They smiled against each other's lips, soft laughter caught between them. Clary's fell away though as Jace finally pushed her over. It didn't take much for him to follow.
Jace plopped onto the bed beside her, kissing her cheek. "Good thing I'm wearing underwear," he said. "I don't think leather washes very well."
Clary laughed but hit him on the shoulder. "That's gross!" she giggled.
"Yeah, but you love me and you know it," Jace said, pushing her back down on the bed so he could kiss her blind. After a few moments, Clary shoved him off, laughing.
"Go take a cold shower, you big goof, you're still stiff," Clary joked.
"Only if you come with," Jace said with a waggle of his eyebrow.
"I have places to be," Clary said, intending it to be light hearted, but she really did have places to be. Promises to keep so Sebastian didn't kill her friend.
Jace caught the edge of seriousness in her voice as he stood and leaned over, bracing his hands beside her hips to kiss her, a deeper meaning hidden in it than what his smile told her.
"You're missing out," Jace said, straightening to pull his shirt off as he walked toward her bathroom. "I mean, look at all of this."
"I know," Clary said wistfully, truthfully sad as she stood and tied up her boots, she didn't bother buttoning her vest all the way. It would get taken off just as quickly. She put her hand on the doorknob. "I'm missing out on so much, I will be back to collect later," she said, winking at Jace as he stepped into the bathroom and her in to the hall.
Somehow she found herself in Sebastian's wing of the castle, before the moody sun had even fully set. The pristine windows made Clary's stomach turn, as did the greenish rays that cut through the glass. Clary turned to the window, hugging her elbows as she studied the garden below. The gardens used to be blasted wastelands, dead and brown and ugly. There was new growth everywhere now. Green vines wreathed towering marble columns making a circular pavilion in the center. Red roses budded and bloomed on those creeping vines like bloody fingerprints smearing her life.
She threaded her fingers into her own messy hair, closing her eyes and leaning her head back as she remembered Jace's fingers all around her body. She sighed, tracing her fingers down her own neck. She missed Jace already, she didn't want to go fulfill her promise, but if she didn't, Isabelle would get punished. A nasty knot in her left shoulder goaded her to roughly massage her neck to loosen it and she couldn't help the small noise that fell from her lips.
When the knot persisted in annoying her, she dropped her hand and leaned against the cold stone windowsill and lowered her head. How did she ever get into this mess? Oh yeah, she made a stupid mistake and tried to kill her brother. Why did she think that would ever work? She was young and stupid and inexperienced. It was odd to think that even though a little over a year had passed, she was a completely different person. She was bitter where before she'd been hopeful, cynical where compassion had been, pessimistic which in this world was really just realistic because the worst always happened. The worst had never failed to show up for their eleven o'clock luncheon where they spoke about how to make her life worse.
That was about the only reliable thing that existed in her life right now, the worst and Jace. Her lovely golden lion. She winced as memories of last night decided to slap her cold across the face. Rubbing her wrists, the phantom cuffs scraped her wrists raw as she struggled to get free and beat the hell out of Sebastian. But that had only drawn his attention to her, which she'd regretted. But didn't, it'd gotten him away from Jace.
He'd used her the worst. Jace was only sore when they'd gotten to their room, she was bruised. Her hand went to cover the black and blue splotch lying on her throat. Sebastian had squeezed too hard. She leaned down and pressed her forehead to the cool stone as she tried not to cry. The word hadn't come to her before, she didn't want it to, but it spelt itself out in her mind with giant, dayglow orange block letters. Rape.
She shuddered as that word threaded itself through her veins, turning them ice cold. That is what he was going to do to her tonight. A glacier decided to make its new home in her stomach, making her blood sluggish and lacing her throat with ice crystals so it was hard to swallow. She groaned and dug her nails into her palms. Stop! Please stop!
The same words she'd screamed to Sebastian. He didn't stop, didn't even look at her. She took a deep, sharp breath as she raised her head. She would not cry. She wasn't a pathetic school girl with a broken heart. This was war, and if you sat down and cried, you lost.
She took another shuddery breath and when she heard one that didn't quite match her own, she spun, a fist aimed for someone's throat. Had it not been Sebastian, she would have crushed the person's larynx. She wished he hadn't caught her wrist, he needed a good throat punching. She ripped her hand back from her brother, raging at him.
"What the hell do you want?" she snarled angrily, circling her own wrist with her hand, rubbing the sore spot Sebastian had caused the night before.
Sebastian shrugged.
"You seem distressed, sister," he said calmly. "Come walk with me,"
"Why should I? That wasn't part of our deal," she said, acid dripping from her voice as she took in Sebastian's wardrobe change from his kingly garbs to casual jeans and black t-shirt.
"I just want to walk, Clarissa. Can't we be civil?" Sebastian asked politely. She wanted to smack him hard into next month but she conceded, not wanting to start a fight that would drain her more than her promise would. So she sighed and ignored Sebastian's outstretched arm. His lips twitched in annoyance but he replaced it with an easy smile as he walked with her through the halls of his pretentious palace.
"You did well this morning," Sebastian commented off handedly as they entered the garden she'd just been pondering down at.
"By well, do you mean you're proud I killed my boyfriend? The brother you acclaim him to be?" Clary asked icily.
"I mean you performed like I wanted you to. You killed in your own defense without a second thought. Today was not exactly a show of devotion, rather a test of how well you've taken the training. Both you and golden boy. Trained to perfection," he said with a satisfied sigh.
Clary refused to speak, for fear she would either scream or just all-out attack her brother. She only closed her eyes and took a deep breath like Alec and Magnus had taught her. Apparently, Magnus had at one point in his long life, been a yoga instructor. All the Zen stuff and whatnot. Amazingly it actually worked. They sat on the fountain's edge, where they had sat yesterday and she had agreed to be his queen.
"Well, Clarissa? Are you going to be boring the entire night? It will make for a rather uneventful time," Sebastian said, dipping two fingers in the fountain water. The action sent soft ripples out across the pond to clash with the ripples of the falling water, distorting the image of the imposing greenery and the now icy colored sun.
It made Sebastian seem even paler than he was. Porcelain skin laid over with ivory paint. And his black eyes were startlingly piercing. Even as they looked down over the moving water. He almost seemed at peace, if Clary wasn't an idiot.
"Why are we even out here?" Clary asked tiredly, leaning back on the wide pond rim to soak up the moody sun's warmth.
"To unwind, little sister. Can you not just take a moment and relax?" he inquired, his voice drawn out, a mockery of soothing.
"Not anymore," Clary breathed, closing her eyes.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I haven't relaxed since the moment you broke those windows. Because this is hell and you're king," she said slowly, like Sebastian was dumb and hard of learning. Despite him being anything but though sometimes Clary thought he was pretty naïve in regular human morals and practices. But that didn't surprise her, seeing as he was raised by a monster. On very rare occasions, very rare, she almost pitied her brother.
But later, as she lay on her stomach in Sebastian's bedroom, on his repugnant, black silk bed, the thought of ever having pitied her brother tried to fly out the window, hit the glass and now lay twitching and dying on the floor with no hope of resuscitation. Her cheek was pressed up against the silky sheets and she was grateful there was little to no friction as her body was invaded. She was left with no clothes like last night, but unlike last night, Sebastian's touch was soft, gentle even, however impossible that was.
It was as though, without another male in the room, he had no need to assert his dominance with females. She hissed at the memory of Jace being here, and at the growing pleasure Sebastian was cultivating. He hadn't done that last night. After their brawl in the throne room, Jace had been too humiliated to even look at Clary once they'd arrived in her rooms. She'd tried to console him while she patched his minor wounds, but he wouldn't listen. He kept telling her that he was a pathetic failure, how Sebastian had debased him in front of her. Stripped him of his dignity.
She'd made him look her in the eye though, and had told him that Sebastian couldn't win so easily after a whole year. Sebastian had done nothing to change Jace in her eyes. Her brother was a sick, twisted being and they had both been tormented and tortured by his hand. She and Jace were in the same boat and nothing would separate him from her and vice versa.
Clary winced as Sebastian's hand brushed a bruise on her hip and she buried her face in the sheets, embarrassed and ashamed. She was glad she hadn't told Jace what her promise had been. This was a secret kept between her brother and herself, at least the details were. After the 'relaxing' session in the garden, which, if Clary thought about it, was truly somewhat relaxing, she and Sebastian had strolled back to his chambers. She had stripped without prompting.
Sebastian had the nerve to ask, to ask her to kneel before him—he had a serious inferiority complex—and take off his jeans for him while he removed his shirt. And his tone was casual, chit chatty and it rubbed her the wrong way but she hadn't fought him. That was part of the deal. As were other things she had to do on her knees. She was going to raid Jace's bathroom for mouth wash and his extra tube of toothpaste later.
The only thing she hadn't expected from this encounter was for her body to actually enjoy it. Last night had been a total nightmare; last night hadn't been about pleasure, it had been about domination and total subjugation. Her body still hurt beyond belief now but someone, the same man who had inflicted that damage, soothed it. At least somewhat. She felt him when he laid his body over hers, finally deigning to come down from his dominate stance to kiss her shoulder blades, her spine, her neck.
He stopped for a moment, leaving her body a throbbing mess before he slowly, torturously so, forced his way back into her.
"Sebastian," Clary moaned low in her throat.
"I do love the sound of my name on your lips, sister," Sebastian murmured in her ear. Her cheeks flamed a horrible cherry color and she turned away into the sheets, hoping to hide her face in the black silk folds. She wanted to curl up and die because of the sounds he was forcing her to make. He enjoyed every one too.
And throughout the night, she made a lot of them, all in various positions as she allowed Sebastian to move her body as he pleased. And she did nothing but let him. He'd successfully crushed her resistance for the night, so she blocked out the sound of his voice and pretended he was Jace. But no one could be like Jace, she knew his body and mind inside and out and some of the things Sebastian did were nothing like Jace.
Especially every time her knees got rug burn. But Clary kept her mouth shut against acidic retorts as her hands wrapped in the sheets instead of around Sebastian's neck. At the end Clary was out of breath, her chest heaving as she was trying not to cry. Sebastian making her feel good was worse than feeling horrible. At least when he was abusing her, she had a physical reason to hate him.
She placed her hands over her eyes, barring the tears from coming out. Sebastian rolled over and kissed her stomach, her shoulder before taking her wrist and removing her hand from her face. She stopped breathing immediately, scowling and turning away from Sebastian.
"Leave me be. Isn't four hours enough for you?" she quipped.
He kissed her cheek. "Just go to sleep, little sister. Get some rest."
Clary didn't want to, but she scooted to the edge of the bed, curling in on herself and went to sleep. Sebastian on the other hand, laid awake for the next few hours, reveling in the sweet soreness holding his muscles taut. He looked over at his sister's back, crisscrossed with fading scars. His fingers, surprisingly gentle so not to wake her, traced the pink lines. He liked the way goosebumps littered her skin. He knew his room was cold but his body always burned and stung. He was never quite sure if it was from the demon blood or the demon metal scars. Either way his body was an atomic heater.
He pulled a blanket over her shivering form, before tugging a quilt from the floor and the comforter from the edge of the bed. When he was done wrapping her up, the only visible part of her was from her crescent-shaped, closed eyes up. He saw the tension loosen a little as he rose from the bed. He'd never been the best sleeper. And even if he managed to get some rest, it was fitful and uncomfortable.
He wrapped a towel that was laying on the floor around his waist and strode over to his desk. He quietly pulled open a drawer, digging around in the crumpled papers and pencils and daggers. A small black book emerged in his palm, along with a worn pencil. He plopped down in his desk chair and placed his pencil against the paper. An image of his sister appeared in a sloppy sketch on the page, specific details darker and more prominent than others. It was how he saw her. On the page her hair glowed softy, her eyelashes darker, mouth defined and pouty.
As he watched the page, he was unaware that a single green emerald was watching him intently, even if it was very sleepy.
"I was beginning to think that you hadn't gotten anything from Mom," Clary said, her voice groggy and quiet.
Piercing black eyes stabbed into that single green one but Clary didn't back down, even as her brother's razor sharp gaze tried to dig into her mind and remove any memory she'd gained of his humanity. His vulnerability. Sebastian remained silent.
Clary shrugged beneath her blankets and rolled over, going back to sleep. Those black eyes did not move from the speck of red hair in the wealth of his black sheets and blankets. Sebastian, after ten minutes of watching his sister's breathing slow and even out, continued his sketch of his sister. But what his mind couldn't drop was the fact that she hadn't teased him about his hobby.
He would have expected, after acting inhuman—because he was—for so long that if his sister caught him acting with a shred of humanity or normalcy, she would have relentlessly teased, made fun of, or used it against him. She had done none of these, just rolled over and gone back to sleep like it was no big deal.
Though it wasn't supposed to, it confused him. She hadn't even asked to see it, to tease him more. The sketch was sloppy and unprofessional, a stark contrast to the things he'd seen in her sketch books when he'd snuck a look. But it was still better than most he'd ever seen. But after he got tired of marring his hand with graphite he went to his bathroom to wash off the mineral before dropping the towel and putting some boxers on.
He climbed back into bed, facing his little sister, who—now that she'd turned away from him sketching her—was facing him in bed. Her hand had fallen from her blanket cocoon, lying on his mattress between them. He laid his head on a pillow and brought his fingers up to trace her open palm as he thought. What he was thinking about eventually brought a frown to his face. So he just laid his palm over hers and fell asleep. Actual sleep for the first time in a while.
