Morgenstern and Herondale

At the breakfast table, everything was completely and utterly awkward. Valentine's burning black orbs bored into my flushed face, demanding me to apologize to Jace. My father was sat at the head of the table, Jonathan and Jocelyn beside him. I was sat beside my smirking brother, opposite the disgusting boy named Jace.

God, this was embarrassing. My father cleared his throat aloud, startling me. I refused to apologize. Slowly, I began picking at my flavourless cereal, ignoring the harsh glares and amused grins. How did Valentine know I was hiding? He must be psychic as well as persistent. "Clarissa." I heard Valentine scold. I flicked my eyes nervously to his. "Have you got something to say to Jace?"

Pretending to think, I fingered my chin cheekily, knowing that I was pushing my luck. "Oh yeah!" I faked remembering. Looking at Jace, I sarcastically said, "Good morning."

Valentine clicked his neck in aggravation, whilst Jonathan sniggered quietly. I wouldn't ever apologize to him—especially after the unwanted kiss. "Clarissa. Apologize to him."

Jocelyn then looked between us. "What's going on? Apologize for what?"

Jace turned to my confused, questioning mother, plastering a fake angelic smile on his punch-able face. "Your daughter punched me. It's nothing to worry about, Mrs Morgenstern." Stupid arse-licking boy. I knew he was trying to suck up to Jocelyn.

"Clary, you didn't!" my mother gasped, turning to me in complete shock.

I nodded. "I did."

"Oh. For goodness sake." She closed her eyes, exasperated.

"Do you want to know what he did?! Huh?!" I shouted.

Valentine frowned. "No. We don't. Your assaulted your fiancé, Clary."

"He is not my goddamned fiancé!" I half-screamed, getting ridiculously angry with my meant-to-be-loving family. "Seriously! This marriage was forced upon me! What do you want me to do? Tackle him off the table and have a passionate make out session?!" Jace grinned at the idea. I continued, oblivious to him. "Do you really hate me that much to send me away and marry a complete prat!"

Valentine pushed himself from the food-packed dining table, walking around and violently snatching a handful of my brushed red curls. I was hauled upwards painfully, obeying as he dragged me towards the hallway. My mother stood up and followed, leaving Jace and Jonathan watching intently. "Don't hurt her!" Jocelyn pleaded.

"She needs to learn." My father hissed, tightening his grip on my hair. "Jace follow me." I heard a chair scrape horribly and then reluctant footsteps. We were marching down the corridor; I just listened to the creaking of our steps and Valentines angry heavy breathing. Reaching a door, Valentine unlocked it and pulled me inside, causing me to groan at the tearing pain of my scalp. Jace followed. The room was practically empty, except a pair of blood-stained manacles were drilled into the wall. My father shoved me towards them, forcing my face into the wall and strapping the cold metal cuffs onto each hand. I just observed the wall, counting how many flecks of dried blood there was. I had never been punished before, but I knew Jonathan had. This was his blood.

I heard an old floorboard being wrenched up and objects being fumbled around with. Then I heard Jace; it sounded as if he was pacing. "Is this really necessary?" he asked.

"She needs to learn, Jace." Valentine grunted. I heard him stand up and walk towards me. He grabbed my hair again, yanking my head back so he could see me. "Now, my daughter, you will apologize to Jace." I scoffed and Valentine released my hair. I rested my sweating forehead against the cool plaster of the wall, forgetting about the blood or dust. Hearing the clunk of a knife, my heart sped up uncontrollably. I felt my father's breath on my neck as he grabbed the back of my shirt and swiftly swiped the knife downwards, slicing my shirt in half. Thankfully, the shirt covered my front.

That's when I felt it. A flash of pain burning on my back. He actually whipped me. Another crack and I bit my lip, feeling hot fresh blood well and spill down my back. Ouch. Slash, another quick flash of pain flared. Three lashes. "What do you say to Jace, Clary?" This was a joke. Nothing. Growling, there was another crack, and another, and another. Each time, I refused to apologize. I was too stubborn. On the tenth lash I screamed out in pain, biting my lip so hard that blood trickled down slowly. Time passed surprisingly quickly, and on the twentieth crack, tears began streaking down my cheeks.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please! I'm sorry!" I screeched.

"For what, Clarissa?"

I had to think suddenly. My mind had gone blank. The twenty-first flick of the whip on my tender sore back reminded me though. Screaming painfully, I sobbed, "I'm sorry, Jace! I'm sorry for punching you! Please—god, I'm so sorry!"

I heard the click of the handcuffs and then I was on my knees, my hands clamped across my flushed, pain-stricken face. Why did I apologize? Ugh! I'm so weak! I heard Valentine say to Jace, "Do what you want with her." He then left. I needed to get to my bedroom—painfully, I searched my pockets and couldn't find my stele. Where the hell was it? I dropped onto my hands and knees and crawled around, moving towards the door to find it being blocked by Jace. He looked very pale.

"Go on," I said weakly to him, my voice painfully dry. "Rub it in my face."

Jace winced at my ripped bleeding back. "You think I would do that?" he whispered, kneeling down. I could feel the thick blood rolling off me. Jace had a hand across his mouth, watching me. He stuck his hand into his jean pocket and held my arm steady whilst he sketched a healing rune. Jace hauled me up and lead me carefully from the room, supporting my weight.