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I cannot move my legs. Both arms are trapped against my sides. The snake's body coils around me, ensnaring me in its deadly embrace. I twist and writhe in a futile attempt to break free. The snake brings its face toward mine and flicks its tongue across my cheek. As I jerk away it rears back and quickly strikes. The pressure at my shoulder jolts my entire torso. I stiffen as the snake lunges at me again, sinking its fangs into my shoulder. It pulls back a final time and spreads its jaws in a wide hiss. My blood goes cold to see liquid dripping from the curved fangs. Venom.

I realize this is a game. The snake is not going to crush the life out of me; it is only playing with me, savoring my fear. But now that it has had its fun, it is going to paralyze my body and eat me alive. Even though it is amusing to keep me alive, my death will be just as satisfying.

The snake shoots forward, fangs bared—

I sit bolt upright with a shout, throwing my arms in front of me to defend myself. Breathing hard, I blink away the fog of sleep and let my vision adjust to the darkness. Through my arms I can see a figure crouched in front of me, but it is not a snake.

Magnus's eyes are wide and his hands are raised in front of him in surrender. My sudden outburst has startled him just as much as it has spooked me. With a long exhale I wipe a hand across my face.

"Magnus—" I start.

"Shh!" he whispers urgently, raising a finger to his lips. "Listen."

My eyes wander as I wait for the mystery sound. Magnus's expression of excitement lulls my concern back to sleep. Just as I part my lips to question him I am cut off by the roar of cannon fire. Magnus's face splits with a grin, but I fail to see the reason behind his giddiness.

"Don't you know what this means?" he asks.

"I can go back to bed?"

Magnus scrambles closer and takes my face in his hands. "There are only three Tributes left!"

"Three what?"

Magnus groans. "Wake up!" He pats my cheek roughly and snaps his fingers in front of my face. He notices my poor attempt to stifle a yawn and cranes his neck forward, capturing my mouth with his. His tongue bursts inside my mouth without permission or hesitation, but I welcome it nonetheless. His teeth clamp down on my lower lip before he tears his mouth away and studies me.

Every inch of me is wide awake now. I reach for him, wanting more, but he clasps my hand in one of his and cups my cheek in the other.

"There are only three Tributes left," he repeats quietly.

"Three." A smile breaks free. "Including us."

"There's only one other person with us in this arena. We're so close."

"Yes. We are." Freeing my hand from his grasp, I scoot closer and touch my fingertips to the back of his neck. He shivers under my featherlike touch. My hand skims around his shoulder and trails down to the centre of his chest.

Magnus grabs my wrist. "We could go out and end this now."

I inch my face closer to his and whisper, "Or we could stay here."

He groans. "Alec, I want to do this with you, but not out of desperation."

"It's not desperation. What if something happens to you? What if something happens to me? I don't want this to slip through our fingers."

"Fear and desperation go hand-in-hand."

Expelling a long breath, I put my hands in my lap and look away. "I've never wanted this with another person, and I've never felt so wanted by someone else. I need you." I channel the pain of my words into my eyes and lock gazes with Magnus once again. "Don't you need me?"

"Of course I need you. I've wanted this so much." Magnus leans in to kiss me but I pull back.

"I'm not trying to manipulate you, and I'm not looking for a quick fuck. You're the person I've been waiting for."

"I'm the person you've been waiting for?" I nod and Magnus leans in again. "Then shut up and kiss me."

I do. Our lips collide so softly it brings an ache to my chest. Magnus slides his tongue into my mouth and groans. I nip at his lip and slide my fingers into his hair. Magnus rises to his knees, bringing me with him. Our bodies are not yet touching but I can already feel the heat of him. He holds my face close to his as his lips move from my mouth to the bottom of my ear, where he places a strategic bite that sends a jolt straight to my groin.

Emboldened and hungry for more, I grab the hem of Magnus's shirt and yank it up and over his head. I toss it aside and he reaches for me, but before he can make his grab I shove him back against the ground. My body covers his and I kiss him hard. One hand grabs my hip and the other curves around my neck, pulling me tighter against him. My fingers fumble for the clasp of his pants and I almost moan in relief when it finally pops open. Magnus sits up and lifts his hips to help me drag the material down his legs. As I yank his boots and pants free of his feet, I catch sight of something on his calf. I turn his leg and cannot hold back my gasp of horror.

"What's wrong?"

I point to the greenish-purple discoloration. It is about the size of my palm and surrounds two dark puncture wounds. Veins and arteries are clearly visible in the patch of darkening color. I do not need to rely on my minimal training to tell me that this wound is serious.

"How long has it been like this? Does it hurt?" I start to get to my feet but Magnus snags my wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"There are some herbal remedies that can help with this. We can't let it fester."

"Don't go."

"Mags—"

"Alexander, there's nothing we can do." The sharpness of his tone freezes me in place. "I'm not in any pain. I don't know if it will get worse, but if it's fatal I can tell you that the antidote is not in this arena. So stay with me."

"I can't sit back and watch you die," I counter.

"I'm not dying. I'm with you."

"There has to be something we can do."

"If you want to help me, stay with me." He fixes his gaze on me. "I need you."

After a moment of reluctance, I kneel down and hold Magnus's face in my hands. I place once soft kiss on his lips before wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him against me in a tight hug. His arms wrap around me and he nuzzles my neck, planting a trail of kisses against my skin. When I start to relax against him, he lifts my shirt and pulls it off, dropping it beside us. I know exactly which parts of my torso require more muscle compared to Magnus's toned physique, but his eyes are transfixed on me, as if he is seeing new constellations in the night sky.

Suddenly the cool ground is touching the bare skin of my back, sending shivers down my spine. I part my lips eagerly as Magnus leans down to kiss me again. He positions himself between my legs and presses his hips against mine, gyrating gently. I groan against his mouth, wordlessly asking for more. His fingers skim down my stomach to the clasp of my pants. Deftly, he unzips them and slides them down my legs. Heat floods my cheeks when I realize just how exposed I am to Magnus now. When there is not a strip of clothing left between us, Magnus hovers over me and brushes his thumbs over my cheek bones. He kisses me gently and rests his forehead against mine. I feel the tip of his shaft press against me and my body automatically stiffens, but my muscles relax as Magnus whispers soothing words and presses his lips against mine. My hands glide down his body until they find the backs of his thighs, then I pull him against me, pushing him deeper.

Air pushes out of my lungs in a rush. My clutch on Magnus tightens, my fingers digging into his muscles. He holds me close as he pushes deeper. I bite my lip against the pain and bury my face in his shoulder. Finally, breathing hard, he stops and tightens his embrace. Just before my breathing can even out, he pulls his hips back slightly and rocks forward. The pleasure that explodes in my core makes me cry out. I whisper Magnus's name and he does it again. I beg him for more and he starts moving, slowly picking up speed and intensity. A groan escapes me every time he rams into me, and soon enough Magnus can't hold back his own cries of pleasure. He's moaning my name, pumping hard and fast.

A familiar sensation bursts in my belly. I'm close, and the realization makes me cry out. I'm so close but I don't want this to end. Magnus whimpers, too, and I feel him inside me. We're both ready. Magnus speeds up until we're both breathing hard, gasping too much to even call out to each other. Suddenly he hits my centre and I explode, crying out and arching off the ground. Magnus reaches his peak at the same moment and stiffens against me. He's still for a moment before he lowers himself onto me, his muscles quivering.

I am completely speechless and still out of breath, so I cup the back of Magnus's neck and pull his lips down to mine. I kiss him deeply, closing my eyes and losing myself in his scent and his warmth. Magnus pulls away and slides out of me; I wince at the uncomfortable sensation. My eyes follow him as he immediately starts to dress, and for a frightening moment I wonder if I've done something wrong. His smile is warm when he offers my clothes to me, and his hands are gentle when he helps me put them on. I am adjusting the shirt against my sweaty skin when his arm curls around my waist and pulls me to the ground. He holds me close and entangles his legs with mine, not speaking but saying everything with his eyes.

I let Magnus sleep. A long time passes but it is still dark when he stirs again. His drowsy gaze finds mine and his smile is lazy but striking. My index fingers traces the scar framing his eye.

"You never told me how you got this," I whisper.

He turns his face and presses a kiss against my palm. "It doesn't matter."

"You matter."

The corner of his mouth quirks up only briefly before his smile fades away. "My father gave it to me. I told him who I was, he got drunk, he took a swing at me with a knife."

"That's horrible."

Magnus shrugs. "He was aiming for my eye so I guess I got off easy. He told me having my name drawn for the Trial was punishment for my lust."

"My father told me not to disappoint him and to get the blood off my pants."

"He should be proud of you."

"He wanted my sister to live, and he wanted me to die trying to protect her. I don't think he'd welcome me back if I got to go home."

"Well, you'll always have Isabelle's love."

"My sister loved a coward who couldn't protect her."

Magnus is quiet for a minute. "Do you know why I left the Career Pack for you?"

I grin. "Because Jace didn't respond to your flirting?"

"I wanted to be your ally because I thought you were brave. The Careers were fearless because their arrogance made them think they were untouchable. But you. . ." He cocks his head. "You were afraid; I could see it. But you're also brave because you have something to protect, and it's never yourself."

I'm flattered by his words, but all I can croak out is, "I'm still afraid."

"Don't be," he whispers and kisses me.

I relax against Magnus as he rubs his hand up and down my back. My eyes close as I dream of just how many nights the two of us will spend together, alone and unafraid.

We devise our plan of attack from the same tactics of the Career Pack. The stream is the prime location for an encounter with the third remaining Tribute. Magnus has insisted that keeping me on the sidelines with my bow at the ready is an optimized plan of attack and an easy kill, though I suspect he is being overprotective and wants me out of any immediate danger.

It's after midday by the time we reach our destination. We each swallow generous portions from our water bottles, but neither of us makes a move for food. We're both buzzed with adrenaline. There's a slight queasiness in my stomach from the thought of letting Magnus go into combat with only a knife, but he only has to hold the Tribute off until I can get a clear shot.

Magnus bounces on the balls of his feet and rolls his shoulders. "You ready?"

I nod. "You?"

His confident grin is sexy enough to make me weak in the knees. "Always. As soon as you get a shot, you take it. Do you understand me, Alec?"

I know exactly what Magnus is asking and it makes a knot form in my throat, but I manage a weak nod.

"Hey." He steps forward, cups my neck, and pulls me in for a deep kiss. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

I bite my lip. "Looking forward to it."

Magnus winks and turns away, heading through the trees and undergrowth toward the stream. I hang back, searching for a spot with camouflage and a good vantage point. I find a patch of tall grass growing between two close thick-trunked trees. Crouched low, I settle myself into a comfortable position and ready an arrow. We could be stuck waiting for hours, days even, but I don't want to be caught off guard. I can see Magnus pacing by the stream. He turns in my direction once or twice, but his gaze does not linger on me. I cannot tell if he is unable to see me or if he's just trying to not give away my location.

I keep track of time by following the position of the sun. Several hours have passed when I suddenly feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I check behind me for an ambush before scouring the area surrounding Magnus. He appears to be on high alert, too. His back is to me, but I notice the straightness of his spine and the breadth of his shoulders as he pushes them back.

Suddenly there's a noise; it's too faint for the source to be near me, but it's loud enough to draw my attention. The point of my arrow follows my gaze as I look around. Nothing seems out of place.

"I know you're here," Magnus calls out, walking in a circle. "Why don't you show yourself?"

At first there is nothing, but then I catch the whispers of moving undergrowth.

"Magnus Bane," a soft voice says. "District Two."

Magnus's back is to me again, and I can faintly see a figure approaching him head-on. I can't make out any distinguishing features and I don't have a clear shot. Cursing, I debate moving to a better vantage point. To keep the benefit of surprise, I stay put.

"I heard you split from the Career Pack. Risky if you ask me," the voice lectures.

"Nobody is asking you," Magnus retorts. "But seeing as I'm alive and the Careers are dead, I'd say it was the right move to make."

I silently beg to Magnus to take a step to the side, or to at least turn his body so I can fire my weapon.

"I don't suppose we're alone," the voice states.

"I think the Trial has made you paranoid," Magnus scoffs.

The harsh laugh that answers him brings frost to my blood. I take a breath to steady my shaking aim.

"You're going to die, Magnus Bane."

"Prove it."

No sooner are the words out of Magnus's mouth than there's a blur of activity. I find myself struggling to differentiate between Magnus and the other Tribute. They're both too fast. Magnus places a well-aimed kick and the Tribute stumbles. He grabs the Tribute's arm and whips him around until the Tribute's back faces me. The second I pull my bowstring back, the Tribute grabs Magnus in a grapple that has them chest-to-chest. I have a shot, but because of their proximity to each other I can't guarantee the arrow won't hit Magnus as well. Cursing, I let the bowstring relax.

The Tribute crouches down to avoid Magnus's knife and throws himself into Magnus's stomach. The two go crashing to the ground, and it's all I can do to remain hidden in the grass and not jump to my feet. Someone cries out, but I cannot tell if it is my ally or our enemy. I almost exhale in relief when both jump to their feet. They swing their arms in arcs at the same time and the loud clang of metal bounces between the trees. They both recoil from the parry and Magnus claims the opportunity to kick the Tribute in the stomach. The Tribute staggers backward, trying to reclaim his balance. Magnus repositions himself and I finally have a clear shot; they're face to face and I can see both of them separately. I am for the side of the Tribute's chest. If the arrow doesn't pierce his heart, it'll at least puncture his lung. I pull the bowstring back.

Magnus forces the Tribute back with another kick to his stomach, and the Tribute only barely manages to stay on his feet. Magnus swings his arm, the blade of his knife aimed for the Tribute's chest. The Tribute's arm comes up and he grabs Magnus's wrist, halting Magnus's attack. Before Magnus can get free, the Tribute shifts his weight forward and channels it into the upward curve of his strike. My heart stops in my chest when I hear the Tribute's knife plunge into my ally's stomach. Magnus's gasp of surprise echoes in my head and my bow slips from my hands before I can even fire the arrow.

I tear out of the undergrowth and bolt over to the battleground. I seize the Tribute from behind and throw him to the side. He releases Magnus as he goes crashing to the ground. I yank out my own knife and crouch over Magnus like a savage animal ready to protect what is mine. The Tribute slowly gets to all fours, groaning, before standing straight. He turns and our gazes meet, but it is not the coldness of his glare that turns my body numb. It is the fact that one of his eyes is blue-green and the other is gold.

"Mark Blackthorn," I gasp.

"Alexander Lightwood," his cruel stare turns to one of surprise. "I thought you'd been killed."

I think of the harmless boy who'd been bullied back in Tribute Square, the same boy who I'd found hiding, frightened, inside a hallowed tree trunk.

"Clever, isn't it? Playing the part of the weakling," Mark says, as if reading my mind. "The looks on people's faces when I slaughtered them before they could lay a finger on me. Priceless."

"That was you," I choke out. "The first day. I was up in a tree and there was a girl. You stabbed her, over and over, and then you slit her throat."

"I knew you were up there, and I couldn't risk her discovering you. You'd let me live after all, and no one is who they appear to be. She would have killed you, and I couldn't let that happen."

"Why? Because I spared your life?"

Mark shakes his head. "No. Because it had to be you and me in the end. You're the top-ranked Tribute of this Trial, Alexander. To defeat you would be the greatest victory of all time. So I watched out for you as best as I could." His eyes flick down to Magnus. "I got rid of the last thing standing in our way."

Mark takes a step forward, knife in hand, and I snarl, "Don't you dare touch him!"

Mark stops, confusion sweeping over his delicate features. He glances from me to Magnus and back. "You can't possibly tell me you allied yourself with a Career?"

The disgust in his voice only intensifies my rage. "If you touch him again I'll kill you."

Mark turns up his nose. "I expected more of you, Alexander. That being said, I will not battle you in your state of grief. Meet me tomorrow at the cornucopia."

I watch as Mark turns and stalks off between the trees. Only when I can no longer see him do I throw myself on the ground beside Magnus and inspect him. There's a large gash in his abdomen and his clothes are already soaked with blood. All the color has drained from Magnus's face, and the beautiful yellow-green of his eyes has been drowned out by his dilated pupils. I search the ground frantically for anything that might help, but I know deep in my heart that I cannot fix this.

Magnus's fingers touch my arm. "I'm okay," he says, his voice shaky.

I press my hand over Magnus's wound and push down hard enough to make him wince. Despite the pressure, blood wells between my fingers. "Of course you are. You're perfectly fine," I assure him.

"Guess I got a little cocky," he jokes. "It's a Career thing."

I choke out a laugh, fighting the burning of my eyes. "I'm sorry, Magnus. I wasn't fast enough. It's a Twelve thing."

He presses his fingertips to my cheek. "Don't blame yourself for this, Alec. My death sentence was signed the moment my name was drawn for the Trial. But you. . . I always knew you were the one destined to win."

Tears slip free of my eyes. "Without you there's no reason for me to win."

"Alec." He brushes the wetness from my cheek with his thumb. "Treasure what we had. Don't carry what we lost."

I take his hand in mine, gripping his fingers hard. "Please don't go," I whisper.

He smiles weakly. "I'm not going anywhere."

I bend down and press my lips against his, kissing him with all the gentle passion I have in my soul. Magnus kisses me back, squeezing my fingers. Our lips are still touching when I feel his grasp slacken. I pull back and find Magnus's eyes still open, staring blindly at me.

"Mags?" I shake him, gently at first, then roughly. "Magnus! Don't go!" I pull him into my lap and rest my cheek against his hair, crying into the soft strands. "Please don't go."

I cradle Magnus's body, rocking him, until well after nightfall. By then his body has gone stiff and cold, not at all like the Magnus I'd known only hours before. The thought makes me sick, and I push his body away before I vomit on him. I wrap my arms around my knees and rock on the ground, emotionally exhausted but still crying.

The moon in shining brightly tonight and I catch a silver glint against the jungle floor. Numbly, I crawl forward and pick up Magnus's knife. My eyes dance across the razor-sharp edge, and suddenly I want nothing more than to make the pain stop. Clenching my fist, I press the tip of the blade against the middle of my wrist. I'm ready to make the cut, but my hand will not move. I don't want to win, but I want revenge. I want Mark Blackthorn to feel the pain I'm feeling. I want him to suffer, and I want to be the one to deliver his pain.

Knowing what I have to do, I numbly get to my feet and gather up my knife. My bow is still in the grass at the perimeter, but I decide to leave it behind. Clutching one blade in each hand, I look down at Magnus one last time before trudging into the jungle.

I haven't slept. The fatigue is wearing me down, tugging me closer to the soft beckoning of the earth. The sun has barely risen but I doubt I have any time to rest. Mark Blackthorn could show up at any moment, and he will find me waiting for him, ready. I drag my hand across my face and give my head a rough shake, forcing wakefulness into myself.

The clearing in front of the cornucopia is so peaceful; it's hard to imagine that so much death happened here. Twenty-four pedestals are visible in a semi-circle in the distance. I try to picture each and every face of all the Tributes. I'm looking at the one I'd been standing on when I hear footsteps behind me.

Mark stops a few feet from me as I rise. His eyes narrow as he takes in the shattered pieces that are me. "I didn't realize how much of an attachment you had to Magnus Bane."

"You killed my best friend," I say tiredly.

Mark shrugs. "He would have killed me."

"But why did it have to be you?" I choke out. "I let you live."

"I suppose, just like Lucifer, I'm a disappointment."

I shake my head, trying not to sway on my feet. My eyes are swollen, my muscles are sore, and my mind is exhausted. Mark Blackthorn is a disappointment, but I'm not match for him.

"Come, Alexander. Let's give the people the finale they've all been waiting for."

I close my eyes and draw on Magnus's words for strength: "I always knew you were the one destined to win."

My feet are moving before my eyes open. I charge at Mark, and just before I can collide with him he side-steps out of my path and throws out his arm. His extremity catches me around the neck and I ricochet off, crashing against the ground. I groan and slowly get back up. I advance on him again, slower this time. The punch I aim at his face goes through air as Mark ducks and retaliates with his own punch to my gut. Absorbing the blow, I throw my leg in an arc and my shin connects with Mark's side. He lets out a grunt of pain but strikes back with a fist that connects with my mouth. The force of the blow spins me around and I land on all fours, spitting blood onto the grass.

"This is the best you can do, Alexander Lightwood?" Mark shouts. "No wonder your sister died."

Blood dripping down my chin, I get up and turn to face Mark. My feet carry me toward him and I watch him, expressionless. His eyes narrow but he seems unbothered by my approach. As soon as I'm close enough, he swings at my face again. My hand catches his fist in midair and I hook my ankle around his boot. I knock his legs together and watch him collapse to the ground. His eyes are wide with shock for a fraction of a second before he scrambles to his feet; I let him get up untouched. His hand whips to his side and he yanks his knife free. I only see the flash of the blade before he swings his arm up in a straight line and I feel a stinging sensation on my arm. When I look down I see a shallow slice tickling blood down my bicep. Undeterred I keep advancing on Mark. With a yell, he makes a clumsy stab at me. I easily evade the attack and snatch Mark's wrist, twisting until the knife falls from his hand. I pull out my own knife and plunge it into the fleshy part of Mark's shoulder. He screams as I yank it out but I feel no satisfaction in his agony.

I start to back away and Mark charges at me. As if by its own accord, my arm shoots out and I catch him by the throat. I reverse his momentum and use the full force of my body to slam him into the ground. He gags and coughs, clutching at his neck after I release him. Only after he catches his breath do I begin to walk away.

"Get back here, Lightwood!" Mark spits between coughs. "I'm not finished with you yet."

I turn in time to see him getting to his feet. He charges at me again, and this time I let him hit me squarely in the middle. We hit the ground hard and Mark straddles me. He punches me in the head over and over until the arena starts to blur. I don't try to fight him off, but instead keep my arms at my sides. He wraps one hand around my throat and applies the slightest pressure.

"Have you given up, Alexander? Do you want me to kill you?" he hisses, disgusted. "You're more of a coward than I thought."

He tightens his grip around my neck and raises his other hand, clenching his fingers into a fist. He hesitates, poised to strike, perhaps to intimidate me. His fist moves only a fraction before I start laughing. His hand freezes in midair, fingers relaxing slightly. Mark's eyebrows draw together with confusion as the laughter that wracks my body surrounds him.

"You didn't even see it," I chuckle. "I used your own trick against you."

Mark is still confounded, and I take the opportunity to yank my hand out of my pocket and hit him in the abdomen. I push the weapon in deeper, give it a squeeze, and then yank it out. He touches the area where I stabbed him, searching for blood. I'm still laughing when I open my palm and reveal the snake's fang.

Mark is still straddling me, but he begins to teeter. "What did you do?"

I slide out from under him and watch with a cold smile as he begins to lose to control of his limbs. He tries to get up and run, only to fall back to the ground. I stalk him as he grovels in a feeble attempt to get away. His movements grow slower and weaker by the second. When he falls still, I nudge my boot under his hip and flip him over, none too gently. His mismatched eyes dart around wildly before resting on me.

In one smooth movement, I crouch over Mark and straddle him, pulling out Magnus's knife. I twist and turn it in hand, even being so bold as to run my finger over the edge.

"I wanted to take my time with you," I say, my voice distant and cold. "I wanted to make you feel pain, to cut away pieces of you one by one. I really could have had a lot of fun with you." I glance down and catch Mark's gaze. The fear in his eyes is real; he knows he's lost. "I wanted you to bleed. I wanted you to suffer. But then I realized something." I stab the knife into Mark's chest, right into his heart. A jolt goes through his paralyzed body, and when I give the knife a twist and yank it out, his eyes roll to the back of his head and he goes slack. "I just wanted you fucking dead."

Several minutes go by of me staring numbly at Mark Blackthorn's body. Suddenly a cannon goes off, scaring me enough to bring my arms up to defend myself. I jump to my feet as a voice booms overhead: "Ladies and gentlemen, our victor for the seventy-fourth annual Trial of the Angels!"

The sky bursts above me and a large black aircraft appears. The noise in itself is overbearing. My heart rushes in a panic, so I turn and bolt into the jungle. In my fright, I stumble over several roots and vines, and I can hear a squadron of Gard closing in from behind. As I leap over a particularly tall cluster of roots, I see a flash of white dart out from behind a tree. My momentum sends both me and the Gard to the ground. Immediately he tries to restrain my hands, but before he can get the chance I plunge the knife into his neck. He lets me go and falls face-first to the ground. I scramble to my feet and take off again.

Voices grow louder behind me. Something loud cracks through the air and I feel a sharp pain in my neck. Almost instantaneously I feel my legs start to grow heavy. Colors of the jungle begin to swirl and blur. I push through the dizziness, desperate to get away. My legs give out and my arms are too weak to catch me. Darkness finds me before I can hit the ground.