Author's Note:
I'm so sorry for the delay in between this upload and the last. I think i have been putting too much pressure on myself to upload lengthy chapters and I was sacrificing giving you new content. I hope you are all okay with a smaller word count if that means more frequent uploads. I still cant commit to a uploading schedule, but at least I have this. Thank you to those who are still with me, it means the world honestly. Please enjoy the chapter! Stay well and stay safe. Happy reading! Love, Sinner316
Clary felt herself awaken from her blissful sleep to the feel of soft fingers brushing her warm cheek. She smiled, imagining her mother sitting next to her in her dark room, coming in secretly through the door before even the sun began to shine, just to sit with her daughter in the quiet. It was perhaps the only time that Clary could recall her mother not looking at her with a disapproving frown on her face. It was a rare moment of motherly love that Clary held on to in her darkest of times.
Clary's smile turned into a frown when her mother's fingers disappeared. She tried to turn, searching for her mother's warmth, but something heavy and hot was pressing her into the unfamiliar bed beneath her.
That is when she became aware that she was not in her room.
Clary kept her eyes closed, letting her hands search around her for any of her weapons that she normally kept secretly beneath her sheets. Her heart fell when she felt nothing around her, not even the small blade she often carried, concealed beneath her skirts.
Clary told herself not to panic, that it would do her no good to alert anyone around her that she was awake. She needed the element of surprise when she decided to make a run for it. And that is what she was deciding to do, right? Make a run for it?
Opening one eye first and then the second, Clary took in her immediate surroundings. She noticed that the blanket that was on top of her was not the soft, linen she was used to in her own bed, but a thick, coarse fabric of what she presumed to be an animal skin. It was very large, the blackness of the fur stark against the amber light emanating from across the way as the last of the burning embers began to fade into the night.
Clary couldn't imagine the strength or the skill needed to take down such a beast, many men in her father's army warning her as a small child to never go near such a monster.
A small whistle of air had all of Clary's senses on high alert, her eyes zeroing in on a solid form not ten feet from where she laid.
The form was that of a boy, no, a young man, with a solid, lean build and hair that glowed under the burning, amber light.
Jace.
Clary bolted upright in the bed, staring down at the sleeping prince, waiting for him to turn her way, his devilishly, handsome face smiling up at her as he taunted her for even thinking of an escape.
She waited.
And waited.
But nothing.
Clary quelled her breathing, hoping that her heart would calm beneath her chest as she worked to calm her nerves.
That's when the images started coming back.
Jace slightly drunk as he led her down a rocky, narrow path where they came upon a small cabin near the woods. She remembered walking in with him, in pitch black, and him starting the fire that still burned along the ground.
Then she remembered the way he had looked at her just after she had struck him and the way his hands felt on her and she shivered, wishing that the fire hadn't died out just yet.
Clary immediately shook her head of that dark, rabbit hole of thoughts, knowing the dangerousness of letting this man, this boy, into her thoughts. He had already cost her so much time. How could she have let him convince herself that she had the luxury of sleep, that there weren't people who needed her. Simon needed her.
Clary felt her face drain of blood.
Simon.
Oh god. How could she have forgotten about her best friend? Clary felt her heart squeeze as she imagined Simon all by himself, terrified and alone. It was all her fault that he was even here. She was the one who insisted that they went gallivanting around the castle that was under attack instead of seeking shelter and safety. She had gambled with not only her one life, but that of her best friend's and she would never forgive herself for it.
But she would make it up to him or she would die trying.
Feeling a surge of duty and a small plan forming in her head, Clary found enough strength and command over her own body to gently pull the thick covers back and rest her feet on the cold, hard ground of the cabin. She waited a couple beats of her heart and watched the still sleeping man across the way. He didn't stir, not even an uptick in his breathing, which soothed her fragile nerves.
She knew that there was no way she could escape once he awoke, so she would have to do this without getting caught.
Now that her eyes were well adjusted to the darkness, she was able to observe her path to the door, the only way in or out of the cabin. She wondered if having one door was a structural advantage for someone like the Prince of Heathens?
She wondered if the Prince slept with his front towards the door every night like he did now? Was he worried about intruders every night or was he worried about her escape?
He couldn't have been too worried, she thought, as he slept soundly not too far from where she now stood, but then she remembered how much he had drunk last night and smirked. Apparently that even the egotistical brat was no match for the devil's drink.
Clary moved her eyes from the sleeping prince to the door, illuminated by the moonlight seeping in through the cracks in the wood as if God, himself, were standing on the other side, begging her to take that first step towards her escape, her freedom.
Chewing on her bottom lip, Clary did just that and froze. The sound of the floorboard creaking beneath her outstretched foot reverberating through her. She waited for Jace to stir, but he continued to sleep.
Worst captor ever, she thought.
Clary took another step and then another, her eyes constantly swinging from Jace to the door as if one of them might jump up and bite her. She wasn't quite sure Jace wouldn't do that if she didn't keep her eye on him.
Within seconds she made it to the door, her heart pounding in her chest as she cautiously closed her hand around the knob, twisting carefully until the door could be opened. She took one last look at the sleeping man a yard away and felt immense satisfaction that she had bested him, even if he had been knocked out by his own inability to know his limits.
Still, it was a victory.
Giddy from her accomplishment, Clary couldn't help herself and stuck out her arrogant tongue as she sashayed out the door. She closed the door behind her with a solid click, turning to look out to the world before her.
Dark. Cold. Alone.
The moon had hidden itself behind some clouds, darkening her surroundings. The wind blew through the trees, the cold air around her latching onto every part of her as she stood on the precipice of a world she could not even begin to understand.
Clary brought her arms up around her to conserve what little heat she had stolen from inside, wishing she had thought to look for a cloak of some kind to keep her warm. There wasn't any telling how long she would be on her own and who knew how long and cold the nights could get here.
Clary suddenly realized that her well thought out plan wasn't really all that thought out. Honestly, she hadn't thought she would actually be successful in finding herself outside without having woken her captor. She realized she had no idea what to do next.
As if on cue, the moon made itself known to her, illuminating the path she took earlier that night that had led her here. He took her away from the cabin and down a small, narrow path that ended just before a simple, wooden wall that ran the perimeter of the land around her.
With each step she took, she became a little more sure of herself. She told herself that each step was a step towards getting out of here, finding Simon, and getting back home.
As she approached the gate leading off the property, her eyes caught onto a familiar shape to her left. Her heart burst from her chest when she saw what it was upon further inspection.
A bow.
And arrows.
It wasn't the bow and arrows she had carried around with her since she could remember, but the familiar feeling of the casket of bows falling between her shoulders immediately soothed her frantic heart and the weight of the bow in her right hand instantly made her feel more like herself.
She could do this, she said like a mantra in her head. She would not allow herself to be spoken for, to allow these "gods" to determine her fate. She would not wait around to be told how her life was to be planned out. She would take charge of her own destiny and that started now.
Clary took one last look at the cabin behind her, not a single noise or other indication that the lonely inhabitant had awoken from his stupor. She was truly free and clear and something about that was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
She turned towards the woods that faced the cabin, knowing that she needed to seek shelter, hoping that she could find higher ground amongst the trees and the large, looming rock formations that lingered behind in hopes that she could formulate a plan to save Simon and herself.
She took off at a steady pace into the trees, knowing that after tonight, she was in. control and nothing would ever be the same again.