Back again. Here's another chapter for you lovelies.
Even her fingers were sore as Clary woke up the next morning. She couldn't find the strength the move anything. Her legs, her arms, her toes, her hips, it was even a task to blink her eyes open. Her breasts throbbed dully as she found a fuzzy image of Jace lying unconscious beside her. So last night had been real; both she and Jace were now bed slaves to their brother. They would always come crawling back for Sebastian fuckery magic.
She found the only comfortable position for her legs was spread, laying limply on the bed. She'd been moved from where she'd passed out, one hand lay curled and weak beside her face while the other rested on her stomach. Clary shut her eyes, in defeat as well as exhaustion, unable to keep them open anymore. Her cheeks flamed in humiliation, tears pricking her eyes. Sebastian and Jace had passed her between them like she was a whore last night. She acknowledged Jace had been used, fucked, raped. But he'd willingly manipulated her body right alongside Sebastian.
He'd screwed her in sync with Sebastian. The thought drew her attention to her buttocks. Angel, how she ached down there. She'd never done anything like that with Jace and the untested muscles were sore and cramping in protest, overused. She felt her body, sticky and hot. The result of Jace's orgasms were on her stomach, her thighs, her chest. Sebastian had been unbiased as to where he fucked Jace. Most of the time it was with her beneath them. She still tasted salt in her mouth.
Her spine hurt from being curved and manipulated so many times. She shuddered involuntarily as an image of Sebastian taking her on his writing desk last night crossed her mind. They'd moved all over the room. Her core burned, throbbed as her thighs, tinged with friction burns, cried out in pain. Her hips ached, her legs had been spread and held wide many times. By both Jace and Sebastian.
Her heart ached as a drowsy image passed over her mind. Jace screwing her…. while Sebastian screwed him. Then switching off. Sebastian had said last night was about her, her pleasure but she'd felt like nothing more than a whore being used by two men. Heart bleeding, she opened her eyes to look at Jace, still asleep. Sebastian must have hexed Jace last night, there was so much magic pumped through both their systems they might have been junkies on a marathon. But it still hurt when she remembered being passed back and forth.
From one man's lap to another and back again. Being stuck in any place they could get. But there was no doubt she'd enjoyed it, thoroughly. She hurt, yes, but the pleasurable ache surpassed that. And she'd climaxed so many times, she'd been absolutely drunk on pleasure. Everything Sebastian had done to her had felt so good, everything he'd had Jace to do her. And the only marks left on her were the love bites and marks of possession.
No bruises, no cuts, no scrapes. And the friction burns were not on purpose, only made by so much sex. She cracked her eyes open. But then she saw the blood, dried on Jace's parted lips, the dark smudges around his throat. Last night, it had been Jace who'd been used the roughest. Sebastian, at times, had almost been angry in his handling of him. The hand Jace had propped on the pillow between them was red, the wrist bruised with a bracelet of purple-blue color. He must hurt worse than her.
She looked closer though, sorting through her hazy memories of last night. Jace had bitten his own lip last night in an effort to keep the moans in as Sebastian used his hands on him. Silk ties had eventually been replaced with padded cuffs because Jace had pulled so violently at them during his climaxes. She vaguely recalled Sebastian saying something about not wanting to damage Jace's wrists.
But the thought didn't totally eliminate the hurt and humiliation Jace had caused her last night, even if it was unintentional. She managed, with great effort, to move her hand across the short distance between hers and Jace's and curled her sore fingers through his. She closed her eyes, floating in throbbing, aching soreness. She felt overused but her core, between her thighs, felt swollen, tight, still needy. She wanted an ice pack, to soothe the heat, assuage the burns on her thighs. For once, she was grateful for the ice box that was her brother's room and enjoyed the cool breeze fanning her cheeks and what was bared of her shoulders from whatever source Sebastian used as a cooling unit.
Her body gave an involuntary shudder, her mind filtering through the events of last night. Her mind had been too exhausted to process them in dreams last night. Sebastian's fingers everywhere, pressing green fire into her womb, into her buttocks. One such occasion with Jace below her, suckling her breasts, her elbows secured together with a belt as Sebastian spread her knees wide while he conjured his wicked green fire and shoved it slowly, deep inside her, not her core.
Sebastian hadn't allowed her a moment of reprieve as he'd lifted her legs and set them over his shoulders, pressing his mouth between her cheeks, tongue licking between core and forbidden place. Clary whimpered as her body throbbed once again. She tried, and failed, to flinch at the gentle finger tracing her cheekbone. Opening her eyes, she smiled at the sight Jace made, barely able to keep his arm up as he stroked her cheek soothingly. She sighed.
Are you alright? Clary mouthed, then frowned a moment later, realizing how stupid the question was. Jace seemed to recognize the regret in the question on her face and smiled weakly, even though it split his lip again to let fresh blood trickle down. She frowned, using the thumb of her hand holding Jace's to brush away the blood.
"Smile more," Jace whispered, his voice thick and hoarse from screaming last night.
Clary gasped, back arching towards Jace as thick, corded arms wrapped around her waist, shifting her onto her side with a quiet moan. They spanned her hips easily, forearms pressing an X over her ribcage. Her small body was enveloped against Sebastian's heater of a body. She moaned, fidgeting as her body flared with an intense ache. But nothing more happened, only warm breath blowing against her neck. It took a moment, after the ache subsided to its previous dull throb, to realize that Sebastian was still asleep.
Sebastian was pressed so tightly against her body that she could not turn her head to see the serene look on Sebastian's face that Jace could see. Sebastian's thumbs twitched, brushing the undersides of her breasts. His hips shifted against her buttocks and she was surprised to find him not aroused. He was calm and didn't growl quietly in his throat in distress or anger like he usually did in his sleep. His legs shifted and he placed one between her thighs, hooking around her calf to keep her entangled with him.
Clary looked at Jace, panicked, asking him if Sebastian looked about to do anything for she didn't see Sebastian's serene look. But Jace only gave her a minute shake of his head. There was no more shifting or movement from Sebastian as his heavy weight settled around her. She'd never stayed long enough to have Sebastian drag her to him in bed, they'd always slept apart. Being held like this was different from having sex. It was less… intimidating, though not any less disturbing. Especially after last night.
Jace only stared at the man behind her, and Clary kept her gaze fixed on the man before her. After a few strained, silent minutes, Clary could breathe again, relax a little as her eyes wandered over Jace's body, what she could see of it. After a moment, her back spasmed and she was forced to relax against her brother's chest, gently laying her spine over his broad abdomen. Clary sighed when Sebastian didn't stir and closed her eyes, still so utterly tired she wondered why she'd woken in the first place.
Sebastian drew in a deep breath against her throat, stretched a leg languidly before settling back down around her. She felt the pound of his heartbeat against her back, it was rapid, unstoppable. Plowing forward until the nerves on her spine were tingling. There was nothing she could do at the moment, so she tried to go back to sleep, calming her body and mind into peaceful bliss until she drifted in that separate plane, floating between consciousness and unconsciousness. She became absorbed in her own inconsequential thoughts, her body falling limp in her brother's arms. Every once in a while, she'd feel the slightest brush of Jace's finger over her cheek or the breeze of Sebastian's warm breath at her neck, but she didn't wake.
That was, until she felt a rough hand buried in her hair, playing with her curls. She slowly peeled her eyes open, finding she'd been shifted to lie on her back once more. Ivory curls floated into her view, her lips parting as she found Sebastian's unfocused face. His intense black eyes were bleary, watching his fingers noncommittally play in her hair. He'd wrap one curl around his finger then flick it off with his thumb. He did it over and over again until it became ritualistic. Choose a curl, wrap it around his finger, tug gently, release with thumb. Over and over again while he sat propped up on an elbow.
After a while, a question itched at the end of her fuzzy thoughts, causing her to shift ever so slightly. A quiet moan fell from her lips, followed by her itchy question. "Are you okay?" she asked, voice hoarse and scratchy. Just like Jace's.
Sebastian didn't look at her as he replied in a bedroom soft voice, tinged with wistfulness, "I don't believe it to be a matter of okay, but if one is content or not in a moment. Do you not agree?"
Clary tried to frown but her face—not even her face had been spared—was still very sore. "I think it matters how deeply a person feels to get so lost in such little things," Clary replied weakly, her face upturned towards Sebastian's face. "And I don't really think you're capable of feeling a positive emotion, so I'm going to say you feel worse than normal. Which must be pretty bad. So, I guess I answered my own question."
Sebastian's smile was slow in coming, quiet in feeling but not devoid of the stuff as his usual smirks and grins were. He still didn't look at her. Choose, wrap, tug, release. He was fanning them over the pillow in a bright display of red-orange.
"How cruel an assumption. To think I cannot feel anything beyond the negatives," Sebastian replied in an almost teasing tone that, had Clary not been nearly paralyzed, would have made her shift restlessly. Choose, wrap, tug, release.
"You've never shown anything beyond negatives," Clary retorted, her voice still scratchy and raw.
Sebastian went down to the bed, slowly, as though he were just as sore as her. He didn't stop his ritual though, now he was lying with his cheek to the pillow. "Only because you've perceived me that way. We see what we wish." Choose, wrap, tug, release.
Clary, with great effort, scrunched her nose, her eyelids drooping back down but she managed to keep them open, just barely. "I only see what you are, Sebastian." Choose, wrap— "A monster." The word was spoken quietly, but it seemed to resonate between them, bouncing back and forth in the empty, suddenly chill air. Release.
"I suppose if that is how you choose to see me, that is all I will ever be," he responded in a dead tone, dead compared to the softness and almost vulnerability of his previous, as though, in the quiet and dark of a room, naked beneath the sheets, he hadn't had a need of masks. He rolled onto his back with a seemingly great effort and settled.
"I wouldn't know how else to see you," Clary pleaded, as though she were the one to have committed a great wrong. She felt warmth slither over her abdomen and thighs, her breasts and shoulders, as though tendrils of heat were wrapping themselves around her, drawing her closer to something.
"Such small playing fields," Sebastian mused to himself. "If only one piece were in play, how would one win the game?"
"I—" Clary broke off, confused by the sudden derailment of thought. "You'd have to prove you are capable of something other than murder and pain, Sebastian," she finally imparted, wanting so desperately to move. She just didn't know in which direction.
"I have." A simple answer.
"How?"
"I've taught you politics, defense training, speech. I've had many a long conversation with you. I've walked in the gardens with you. You yourself have witnessed one of the hobbies I have become intrigued by. I made love to you. It is not my fault you choose to be blind."
"M—made love?" Clary spluttered though it made her throat burn. "What you did last night wasn't making love. That was rape. I didn't give my consent, I told you stop, you didn't listen. You forced Jace and me in submissive sex and made us enjoy it." Clary hissed out the last as a lie, easily. "You did not make love to me."
Sebastian turned to her, black eyes like sharp diamonds. "I did," he said with sharp conviction. "Making love is all perspective, about the emotion one feels while interacting with the other. Whether it was fucking, rape or making love to you does not change the way I interpreted it."
"Just because you believe your sick perspective is right and justified, does not mean that what you did wasn't statutory rape, incest and sexual coercion!" Tears welled in Clary's eyes, feelings of debasement, desperation and confusion bubbling inside her chest, threatening to burst out. "When will you understand that what you did, have done and are doing is wrong?" Clary demanded in a squeaky voice.
Sebastian sighed, and responded in one of the most despondent and pathetic voice she'd ever heard him use. "Because I am a wrong person, Clarissa."
Clary's heart wrenched, just the slightest but it had her internally snarling. Externally she was practically sobbing. "Just because you're putting up the 'everyone feel sorry for me' front don't expect me to have pity sex with you," she choked.
Sebastian sighed and leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "It is not an expectation nor is it a fact, Clarissa," he whispered against her forehead. He sounded weary, tired. What time was it? "And I have no need for fronts anymore."
He pulled back, tunneling his fingers through his hair. "Go back to sleep, little sister. I will be here when you wake up again should you need something." With that he stood, stiffly, from the bed and padded over to the bathroom. The door shut definitively and the sliver of light could be seen from beneath the door as he moved within. Clary slowly turned her head to find Jace asleep again. She let the tears fall.
-Xxx-
Sebastian leaned quietly against the sink as the bowl of water filled, scratching mindlessly at an old wound on his abdomen. I only see you as what you are… A monster. Maybe. He knew he wasn't good, he knew he was a beast, he knew he was animalistic, but a monster? He sighed. Yeah, he was. Any animal or human that is different from a normal shape or character.
He most definitely didn't fit the normal category, at least in Clarissa's understanding of the word. But he thought he was normal by his own perceptions. Reality is based off perceptions. Reality doesn't exist. He was sick to his sister, not right in the head, but really, he was the best he'd been in his entire life. Clarissa just hasn't seen that yet, and he couldn't really blame her for not seeing it.
He shut off the faucet and retrieved a few washcloths before picking up the bowl and limping back into the bedroom. He was sorer than he'd originally thought, but he didn't mind. Sebastian heard the soft fall of tears wetting his sheets even before he turned the nightstand lamp on. She was crying, of course she was. She'd emotionally disturbed herself. Her eyes were closed, Jace still comatose, but her body hadn't moved.
He kneeled on the bed and gently propped her body up as he slid behind her, damp washcloth in hand. She gasped as her eyes flew open, right before she moaned in protest to the movement. He brushed her wild hair back.
"You're alright, little sister. I just thought I'd clean you up a bit," Sebastian murmured to her. She seemed resigned as she laid back against his chest, the cool washcloth wiping at her stomach. The scent of strawberries filled his nose as he set his chin on her head. "Why were you crying?" he asked softly, wanting just to distract her. He knew why she was crying.
"Because of you," she sniffled, issuing soft whimpers when he pressed just a little too hard.
"Why?"
"You—you…" she hiccupped, causing herself to whine as it drew at her taut muscles.
"Take a deep breath," Sebastian soothed, leaning over to dip the cloth in the water and wring it out. "Take your time, don't force it."
Clarissa, too weak to protest he suspected, did as he bid and breathed, letting one, two, three beats of silence echo between them. Then she spoke. "Because of what you did to me and Jace last night, and the nights before."
Neither of them really took notice as Sebastian brought the cloth to the underside of her breasts. "Did you not enjoy them?"
Clarissa shuddered, hand curling against his thigh. "You know I did. I enjoyed what you did so much," she admitted, and he watched her mossy green aura pulse with her heartbeat. "But arousal doesn't mean consent. You still raped me."
His nose brushed her thick hair as the cloth moved to her chest. "I know," he conceded into her curls. He had, he'd known it the whole time but he didn't know how else to do anything. He'd only tried to make it pleasurable because he had that need to sate, the demon to leash. She was his, but he wasn't entirely assured of what he was to do with her. He was trying.
"What?" Clarissa said, trying to turn and see his face.
"You heard me," he replied, shifting slightly so she couldn't twist and moan. He'd finished her chest, throat and arms. "Do you want a shirt?"
A quiet nod as Sebastian finished her legs, taking particular care with her inner thighs. He was across the room in the next minute, digging out one of his older shirts, a plain gray one with short sleeves. He felt emerald eyes track him back to the bed as he lifted one of her arms to thread through the sleeve, then the other and finally her head. He gently tugged the shirt down her body until it settled over her thighs.
She made a great effort to turn her body away from him so she lay on her side. A fleeting impulse drove through him, telling him to lie down behind her, lock his arms around her waist and draw her back against his chest. Told him to lift one of those silken thighs and slowly sink into her as he kissed her neck. He could hear her soft moans as he slowly plunged in and out of her. He could feel the smooth expanse of her stomach as his hands slid beneath that shirt. Feel her head laid back on his shoulder.
He shook his head and looked at her as she was. Somber, still, facing away from him, towards the golden blond. Sebastian blinked slowly, rubbing the stubble on his chin. The next thing he did was turn and leave, the door shutting with a flare of blue magic. Not that his siblings could get out of bed.
-Xxx-
Jace hurt so much, it felt as though he were back in his childhood, the morning after his first whipping, courtesy of the blond headed bastard himself. The older one. He'd only woken in time to hear Sebastian say 'I know.' To what, Jace would have to ask Clary, once he could talk well enough. The door had just shut when he managed to peel his eyes open and find Clary's pouting, tear stained face. She had a shirt on now, Sebastian's grey one that he seemed to favor.
The blatant mark of possession, be it conscious or unconscious, rankled deeply. So did the many blue-violet marks lining her neck, shoulder and jaw. Some he had made in his magic driven frenzy, but he knew for sure, that stark almost black-blue splotch directly over her pulse was Sebastian's. Jace made the enormous effort to slide his hand across to her curled fists and gently open her palm. She let him tangle their fingers.
Had he been able to move better, he would have pulled her pathetic form against him, but he could not, the slightest movement pulling on taut, sore muscle. And dear, holy Angel did his back end hurt. He hated himself for having enjoyed it, but damn if Sebastian didn't know what he was doing. Jace noticed Clary's legs were spread, and he knew it was to alleviate the throb between them.
Her bottom lip stuck out sadly and her eyes didn't meet his when he tugged gently on their joined hands.
"What did he do?" Jace finally managed to croak.
"He used his stupid Sebastian logic and made me wrongfully conflicted," she murmured, her voice less scratchy than his, as though she'd been using it a bit more than him.
"What?" Jace asked, wanting to know what his brother had done to make Clary so sad and downtrodden. He'd seen pain and anger conjured in Sebastian's name, suffering and tears, but never pure, unadulterated sorrow.
"I told him he was wrong in what he did… and he agreed."
Jace blinked, knowing the enormity of such an occasion. Sebastian never admitted he was wrong, especially in things having to do with Clary and his own sense of right and wrong. He carefully watched Clary's downcast eyes as she brooded, her frown growing as the tears she was most likely unaware of fell down her cheeks. Jace groaned even as he reached over to wipe the tears away.
"It's alright," he consoled, reaching for the only comfort he could provide. "We're together. We'll figure this out." To his amazement, Clary somehow dragged herself the scant inch between them across the bed to nestle against his chest. She sobbed quietly into the dimly lit room and filled his heart with her tears. He could do no more than drape his arm around her waist, and even then it was a pathetic effort. Clary eventually cried herself back to sleep, and Jace was not surprised by how much she'd slept today given their binge of energy last night.
Ugh, Jace still shuddered at the thought of Sebastian's hands in places his hands should never have gone, wrapping him in that wretched blue magic, leaving him writhing and begging on the bed. His wrists still hurt, throbbed with the remaining bruises. He moaned when he tried shifting his legs, his backside as well as certain extremities ached immensely from such vigorous use, and in ways Jace was certainly a novel to.
Jace was so wrapped up in the soreness of his entire body that he did not hear Sebastian reenter the room. Not that he would have heard him had he been listening. The bastard was stealthy. "Thinking of me, brother?" Sebastian questioned, moving to sit on Jace's side of the bed. Odd, he usually preferred Clary's side and the close contact with her.
"Of your sick perversions maybe," Jace retorted, not even bothering to turn his head. He didn't have the energy.
"If you're thinking of them, I don't suppose you find them sick, now do you little brother," he taunted, the bed dipping under his weight.
"You have a twisted mind, Sebastian."
"All the better to pleasure you with," Sebastian replied smoothly, lifting the sheet from Jace's waist. He stiffened, causing his muscles to call out a protest at the sudden movement. Sebastian made a tsking sound and drew fingers over Jace's spine, making him shiver.
"Get your filthy hands off me," Jace growled low in his throat, trying for all the world to be menacing, but it was a hard feat when he could barely move and his back was turned.
"Do you want an iratze or not? I don't particularly care if you can move or not." Sebastian flung the statement casually in Jace's face, a declaration of what little he mattered in Sebastian's relationship with Clary.
Jace begrudgingly accepted the iratze, though it only lessened the ache to the point where he could slowly limp across the room. At least he wasn't stiff. Jace rolled his shoulder, slowly shifting onto his back so he could take a full breath and release the tension in his other shoulder from lying on it so long.
The clatter of the stele in Sebastian's drawer drew Jace's attention. The other blond had dressed in sweats and a loose shirt, not his usual attire Jace noted. But aside from the limp Sebastian sported, there wasn't much else physically different about him. Not even the air around him had changed, at least as far as Jace could tell.
As Sebastian locked himself in the bathroom, Jace struggled to sit up, groaning, body protesting with every move but he managed to sit up. He arched his back in an attempt to stretch his muscles but it only hurt so he only shoved his hands through his shaggy hair. Angel, he needed a haircut. Whatever Sebastian was doing took him longer than Jace expected and when the door clicked open, Sebastian only had damp hair.
Using the bed post to pull himself up, Jace stood and staggered uneasily to the bathroom, his cheeks flaming in embarrassment as he heard a deep chuckle from his brother. "Shut up!" he snapped, slamming the door. Though he regretted it as it might have woken Clary, but a quick peek back in the bedroom told him that she was still asleep and that Sebastian had settled in his desk chair, feet propped on the desk, something cradled in his lap. His head was tilted toward the bed where Clary slept.
A quick shower, Jace decided, not wanting to leave those two alone together but wanting to clean himself of the… substances coating his body from last night. After he'd scrubbed his body vigorously, twice, he stepped out of the shower. Though he felt cleaner, now he just felt even sorer. He groaned as he wrapped a towel around his waist, at least a decent covering, and walked back out into the bedroom to find Sebastian gone. The door was firmly shut and Clary was still asleep in the bed, though the covers had been rearranged to wrap around her shoulders and legs while dipping to the base of her throat in the front.
Jace painstakingly searched for the boxers he'd been wearing last night but found both Clary's and his clothes gone, not even in the laundry basket. So Jace, striving to be as much of a pain in Sebastian's ass as he could be, rifled through his already unorganized drawers until he found a shirt and a spare pair of sweats. Though he stole Sebastian's clothes, he certainly was not wearing the beast's underwear. Feeling much more comfortable now he was covered, Jace hobbled over to the drawer Sebastian had dropped his stele in.
The desk was scattered with papers in a presumably demonic dialect as Jace didn't recognize figures nor characters as he rifled through them. There was a bit of crumpled paper titled The Shades of Green in German and a bit of writing but it made absolutely no sense to Jace as he scanned through the words. There was mention of an aura and a woman and blackness but the way Sebastian had phrased it was odd. Jace knew from his time inside his brother's mind that Sebastian was a poet, just a morbid one but this piece had an odd emotion scribed across the page.
It wasn't exactly curiosity but almost obsession, the way he repeated how different shades of green moved around a woman. Jace had a sneaking suspicion the woman was Clary. Jace crumpled the unfinished prose back up and tossed it across the room, causing his arm to protest, before moving his attention back to the drawer, aiming to get the stele. He wasn't stupid enough, right now at least, to try anything foolish when he was so sore and handicapped. He just wanted another iratze to get rid of the damn tenderness.
His fingers curled around the cool handle and gave a sharp tug before something gave him a sharp tug. He was jerked back from the drawer a step, the sudden movement making him gasp. Jace glanced around the room and found no one save Clary, who slept on, eyes still swollen and red. Frowning he stepped forward and tugged on the drawer again. He was shoved back by an unseen hand and the shockwave of the impact racked his body until his already weak knees buckled. He hit the thick carpet surrounding the bed, trying to catch his breath.
"Damn bastard and his magic tricks," Jace growled to himself, hauling himself shakily off the floor. He leaned on the desk, catching his breath, when he caught sight of a little black book, a pencil protruding from between the pages. He saw familiar wisps of hair and a delicate chin as he began lifting the cover.
"Snooping is uncomely brother," came the sound of Sebastian's voice as the bedroom door clicked shut.
"So is rape," Jace said, turning to glare.
Sebastian loosed a breath through his teeth. "Harsh," he deadpanned, setting a tray of covered plates on the dresser on the other side of the room.
"Not as harsh as you were," Jace retorted, feeling vindictive rage bubble up in his stomach. Poking the bear was foolish, yes, but some part of him needed to dig that needle under the monster's skin. After what he did to Jace, what he did to Clary. Jace's gold eyes dared Sebastian to hit him. It would be better than what he'd done with his hands last night.
Sebastian's eyes narrowed on Jace's face before quickly flitting down his body, seeing the stolen clothing, before returning that same gaze to his face. "Careful brother, I'm not as tolerant of your ego as I am of our sister's."
Jace lifted his chin belligerently. "And what will you do? Kill me? Clary would make your life hell if you did," Jace spat.
"I would have thought father taught you there are worse things than death to be had," Sebastian replied evenly.
"Like what he did to you," Jace said, his voice low.
Sebastian turned toward the dresser with the tray of plates; he nodded slowly. Jace, though he shuddered at what he'd seen in Sebastian's mind, didn't care for the threat. "You deserved it," Jace said slowly, eye blazing with antagonism. A rabid growl and Jace was pinned to the wall, Sebastian's hand clamped around his throat.
"Then you deserve worse," Sebastian snarled, quietly, still cautious of the sleeping woman in his bed.
"Why?" Jace gritted, baring his teeth back at Sebastian.
"Why don't you share with our dear sister and see which of us she thinks the monster then? At least I act upon my desires and sate my needs instead of repressing them until they build into an ugly cloud of sickness just waiting to overtake the next being it comes upon."
Jace's rage turned indignant. "I already told her, you bastard. Guess you don't know everything, now do you?"
Sebastian's hand tightened around Jace's throat, making him wheeze. "Be very careful of your next words, Jace," Sebastian spat the name. "I can very easily eliminate you from the equation between my sister and me. You aren't essential in my plans for my queen; you are a pawn and a toy for Clarissa to play with when it pleases her. Understand that and you may live through the year."
"You wouldn't dare risk her anger," Jace rasped, a hand on Sebastian's wrist. "I know what you think of her. You seek her approval."
Sebastian drew back and slammed Jace into the hard wall. "Shut your filthy mouth. It's only good for one thing and that is not speaking. I do not need her approval and I certainly don't need your pathetic two cents on the matter because you think you know me from our brief connection in the apartment."
Jace's head was ringing, his vision swimming and his body flaring in pain as the relief he'd had from the soreness went out the door, leaving his body shaking. But not out of fear. He continued to glare. "You lust after her approval, like a dog after its master. I saw more in your sick head than you think and I can share it with Clary should I choose." Jace coughed as Sebastian's fingers tightened. "You wouldn't be so intimidating then, would you?"
"I don't know what you saw," Sebastian hissed, "but I couldn't give a damn if you told my sister. But if those words do pass your lips, your life will end. Regardless of Clarissa. I don't think you would want to sacrifice your life for information that is not yours to share, nor would it make a single damn difference to me or to Clarissa. She's still mine and you're still a toy that can be thrown away when its use had reached an end. Careful you don't wear yours out too quickly."
Sebastian's hand slid around the back of Jace's neck as he tossed him to the ground, landing with a muffled thud against the carpet. The last thing Jace heard was the click of the door. Blood dribbled down from his split lip as he smiled. Sebastian may be an expert liar, but Jace knew the truth.
-Xxx-
Fuming, Sebastian stormed down the halls of his palace, wrapped up in his anger. He was just about ready to slit the boy's throat. He was surprised he hadn't yet. A warm body slammed into his and he reacted on instinct, grasping slender wrists and pinning them above a mop of raven black hair.
He snarled down at the Lightwood girl. "Watch where you're going, bitch."
"Why don't you use your eyes for once, you stupid bastard?" she retorted just as nastily, jerking on her wrists. He squeezed until her slender bones were on the verge of snapping. She cried out, and he relished the sound of pain, the writhing of her struggling body, the snap of her deep blue aura as it grew more opaque—a sign of distress.
A peculiar sound pierced his ears and made him pause in his enjoyment. The sound of two heartbeats. One was faint, almost indiscernible from the louder, deeper one, but it was there. Sebastian snarled and stepped back.
"You carry the vampire's spawn," he spat. The Lightwood girl's eyes widened.
"What?"
"Get out of my sight before I snap your bones," he snarled and she went scurrying down the hall way, the news placing a healthy dose of self-preservation within her. Good, maybe the bitch would stay out of his way for once. He set off back down the hallway, away from his sealed chambers where that stupid golden blond lay. In the same room as his sister.
Sebastian let out an inhuman snarl at the thought but continued on his rampage down the hall and out to the gardens where he stormed past the fountain, past the Zen garden, past the outer gates until he hurdled the boundary gate and was out in the demon realm. His realm. He breathed in the burning air, the deep blue sun pulsing with light as he trekked deeper into his immortal territory. His mother waited for him among the ruins of an alternate Alicante.
Now what? Review and tell me what you want to happen next.
