I woke up in his arms. I had my back pressed so closely to Jace that I could feel his muscles tensing and releasing in his sleep. Jace's arm was flung loosely around my waist and his chin was snuggling my head into his neck. The position was so alien, yet so familiar. Which confused me, seeing as even when Jace and I were more aware of our affectionate feelings for each other, we'd never been this intimate.

And it scared me. To think about it, I had never been this intimate with anyone. But who else was there beside Jace? Either way, it was now seven in the morning, and I needed to move. Memories from the previous night were slowly resurfacing, and if I laid like a skeleton for much longer, I'd have a mental breakdown.

I gently and slowly urged myself away from Jace, instantly feeling the cold air blasting me where I had been touching him. I didn't get very far, though. Jace's arm grew taught and he dragged me backwards, somehow closer then I had been before. I huffed a quiet sigh. This was going to be more difficult then I had thought.

Once again, I tried to wriggle myself from Jace's tight grasp. And once again, he didn't seem to like that. Not only did Jace pull me back and tangle his legs with mine, he let out a frustrated, protesting whine. Then he placed a rough kiss on the top of my head, followed with sleepy, unintelligible words whispered into my hair.

My entire body tensed unexpectedly. I had to find a way out of this situation. I had to. If I didn't…

I knew exactly what would happen.

I would fall directly back into Jace's trap again. He would have me fully and I would be in love. I'd lose all control of my emotions. I'd lose all focus. And he'd be free to do with me whatever he wanted, even drop me.

Dramatic. No, I thought. Not again. This couldn't be happening again! Attention-seeking. Pathetic. Bland. Miserable…little…girl…

They weren't my words. They were his. But the impact shook me fully as if he'd meant them.

- Wait –

Did I just say that? Did I just imply that Jace hadn't meant what he said? Even if I had implied it, that didn't mean it could be true. The thought itself was foreign, as if someone had planted it there. But to convince myself that I could be strong – that I could live without Jace – then I had to tell myself that he hadn't lied. If he had been lying in that note, there were only two possible explanations.

1. 1. Jace pushed me off the roof purely for fun, and then proceeded to verbally attack me, for more fun.

Or…

2. 2. Jace didn't feel that way about me. Instead he felt…like he'd once said to me before: I love you. But that meant something much deeper was in play.

I didn't want to believe either option. How could I? So I didn't. The words had been a concept purely thought up by a part of me that still longed for Jace's touch. A part of me I would never – could never – relent to.

Even though I'd settled the thought as fake, I could feel the tears burning fast in the back of my eyes. No, thank you, I thought bitterly. I've had enough public humiliation and mental breakdowns in front of Jace that only give him access to pick me apart further.

I raged silently but firmly against Jace's verbal and physical protests. But he wasn't awake. He couldn't be. Because if he was, then Jace had willingly and consciously cuddled with me and kissed me. That was just plain unreasonable.

By the time Jace let go, I had full momentum behind his interlocked arms, causing me to be flung forward headfirst. The noise of the impact was enough to wake Jace, and probably the rest of the Institute, but the tears were building up. So I rushed instantly out the door of Jace's room and darted to the left.

"Clary!" I heard Jace shouting continuously behind me. I could feel his footsteps on the floor close behind me. I knew Jace was much faster, even his stride was at least two and a half times larger, so I dodged into a room on my right. Fortunately, I listened intently as Jace's footsteps continued past the door, receding into the distance. I let out a sigh I hadn't even realized I'd been holding.

"Classy," the voice that came from behind me startled me so much that I whirled around and bonked my head against the door. Jordan. Ugh. I slumped to a sitting position against the door, mournfully rubbing at my forehead. Lucky for me, I'd managed to ram my forehead into the sharp doorknob, and as my pulled my fingertips way, I saw that they were in fact stained with blood.

I didn't have a stele on me, so I'd just have to heal like a mundane. Easy enough, seeing as I sometimes still considered myself one at times.

"Who were you running from?" Jordan questioned. He was laid out lazily across the bed in the corner. I shot him my best glare, and to my surprise, his eyes widened in shock a bit, most likely credit to what was becoming a rough gash across my head.

"What are you doing here?" Jordan looked skeptical. "Answer mine, I'll answer yours," I added. This seemed to convince him.

"The Praetor put my here," he answered finally. "For now."

The Praetor. As in Praetor Lupus. I'd read about this in one of the books Magnus had given me to learn from. An organization built by werewolves, set up to protect Downworlders. Those who were newly turned, those who'd found a wrong path, those who'd gone rogue, but not enough so to be handled by the Shadowhunters.

"I was running from Jace. What do you mean 'for now?'" I continued to question him.

"There was a Downworlder attack last night. I was sent in to handle to the new one. Was a kid, a vamp turned him," for some reason, his words sent a chill churning through my whole body. "I heard about you and Jace. Must be rough."

"Must be rough?" I laughed humorlessly. "Man, I wish there was some kind of initiation for Shadowhunters. I could've been so done with this crap. You're part of the Praetor?"

Jordan spread his hands out as if to say, in the flesh. "Praetor Kyle, at your service," he announced cockily. "And there is an initiation program. It's called 'Jace.' He can help."

"Thanks, but I already learned what I need to. It's called 'Magnus.' Besides, I never want to ask Jace for anything ever again. I already have to spend nearly half my life with him, I don't need to seem more weak in his eyes," I had no idea why I was confessing my life to this guy that I practically hated.

Jordan leaned forward, and I recognized his stance. He had turned into Therapist Mode. Or in his case, Praetor mode. "It's not weak to need help or more information. Trust me, Clary. Feeling like that can cause major issues."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "How am I supposed to trust you?" I snapped. "Now that I know the truth about what you did to Maia…"

Jordan let his head hang. Obviously, I had struck a nerve. I almost felt bad. Almost. "I couldn't ever feel guiltier about what I did. I've spent my life since that moment trying to apologize, and I fully intend to spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to her. You should know that."

I was taken aback. I had no idea it was like that. Now, I felt sorry. "Well, maybe I'll decide to give you a chance," he looked up at this, hope burning deep in his eyes. It was then that I knew Jordan was still hopelessly in love with her. "That's if Maia is good with it. I just might be able to help you." I winked at him and stood to leave.

I had my hand on the door when another thought resurfaced. "Hey, Jordan. One more thing. That kid, the one that got attacked? What was his name?" Just to settle this feeling in my stomach, I thought. Not because I knew anything.

"Louis, maybe? S…ahh, yes. Simon. His name was Simon Lewis."