I know, this chapter has taken forever, and I'm sorry about that. But I am very, very grateful to amaggiepie for doing beta work on this chapter even though she was dealing with so many other real life things that demanded her attention. You are a beta queen, my dear.

Warnings: Mature themes including perceived incest, explicit sexual content, and strong language. Immature themes including excessive dash usage and copious amounts of unapologetic relationship angst. Proceed with caution.

Context: This story is set after a City of Glass in which Clary and Jace do NOT figure out that they aren't really brother and sister. They never got the Book of the White to Magnus, so Jocelyn is still comatose. (This ignores City of Fallen Angels entirely.)

Keep the Next Breath

PART TEN

The Shadowhunters have all gathered on the steps of the Institute. The adults stand together in a loose semi-circle except for Alec, who lingers closer to where Jace is perched on the stone banister. Isabelle and Simon are off in the grass, the former aloof and the latter awkwardly attempting to initiate some sort of conversation.

Jace takes it all in with a forced sense of calm. Physically he's here, but his thoughts are with Clary, who left for the hospital an hour ago. The plan is for her to visit Jocelyn before heading to the stipulated meeting place, where the warlock said he would be waiting. It was Clary's suggestion that she go ahead of everyone else.

"In case he has someone trail me," she said to the hunters gathered in the war room that first day of planning. "If he finds out too soon that I broke the Promise, he might not show up at all."

And no one could argue with that.

So an hour ago, Jace had to watch her leave equipped in full Shadowhunter gear that didn't quite conceal all of the combat runes scrawled across her skin. It was difficult sending her off alone, but he knows that come nightfall he will be on that rooftop with her. He and Luke will be concealed there, while the other Shadowhunters and Luke's pack station themselves in the adjacent buildings. Clary will only be facing Sebastian alone until the Book of the White is in plain sight.

Now they're just waiting for Clary to call when she leaves the hospital.

"You're not nervous."

Jace glances over at Alec. He's been behaving oddly all day—quiet and distant—but Jace wrote it off as anxiety over the upcoming battle. "Should I be? Sebastian is going to be completely outmatched, even if he does have the Sword sliver and the warlock. All of the demons and magic in the world couldn't stop me from finishing the job I started that night in Idris. This time I'll make sure the blade goes all the way through his chest."

Alec steps closer and speaks with a lowered voice. "You're not worried about Clary?"

Jace is always worried about Clary. It's an anxiety that's become too familiar and one he's accepted on his own terms. "I won't let anything happen to her."

Alec's mouth opens and then closes. His brow furrows in a somber expression of contemplation. "You really love her, don't you?"

There's something in the way he says it that has Jace looking closely at his parabatai. "Of course I do. Don't you love Isabelle?"

"Yeah, I do." He looks like he wants to say more.

Jace hops off the banister, landing lightly on his feet. "Look, you can't let yourself worry about Clary. You have to concentrate on the fight or you'll end up dead, and what good is it having a dead parabatai? Luke and I will be there if anything goes wrong. Just remember—"

"Do you think that part of loving someone is knowing when to let them go?"

Jace startles. "What?"

But Alec's not looking at him anymore. His gaze goes past Jace to where the sun is sinking in the sky. Long shadows cast by neighboring buildings stretch their way across the street. They're caught in one of them. "Or do you think loving someone means never letting go no matter what happens?"

Something tightens like a vice inside Jace's chest.

His pocket buzzes. He pulls out his phone and reads the text message from Clary: I'm leaving the hospital. See you soon.

When he looks up, Maryse is watching him. He nods and she tells everyone to move out.

[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]

The door closes behind Clary with a heavy lurch, and she waits, listening to the sound echo in the silence of the sanctuary. The candles continue flickering and the elevator remains dormant and still. There are no footsteps.

She is alone.

Clary sags in relief even as her heart quickens in her chest. This is what I wanted, she reminds herself. The Institute is empty. All of the Shadowhunters have left to meet at the abandoned building by the water—the place where they will expect to find her. The place where she will not be.

She pushes aside the guilt that has been eating at her for the last week. Lying to Jace—to everyone—hasn't been easy. But she can't afford to be distracted now—apologies and explanations can come later. Right now she cannot be anywhere but here.

Straightening, Clary slides the seraph blade from her belt and grips it tightly at her side. She begins moving forward down the aisle, eyes sweeping over the empty pews and the shadows formed by the gothic pillars. She is halfway to the raised dais when he appears out of one of the alcoves behind the pulpit and descends the steps to the floor.

Sebastian looks almost exactly as she remembers him. Dark, inky hair, black eyes set in a cold, angular face, and a tall, lithe figure emphasized by his fitted Shadowhunter gear. He does not smile. There is none of the charm he exuded so expertly during his stay at the Penhallows' home. When Clary first met him there, she had thought he was beautiful. And he would be, she supposes, if there weren't something so off-putting about the harsh lines of his features and the frostiness of his gaze.

He stops several feet from where she's standing and looks her over in a calculating appraisal.

"You're finally starting to look like a Shadowhunter."

"I kept my end of the bargain." With her free hand she holds out the Warlock Promise. "I'm here alone. That means he has to hold up his part of the deal."

"Don't worry. The Warlock has the book, and he's exactly where he said he would be. I'm sure your friends, even as incompetent and useless as they are, can handle retrieving it." Now, Sebastian does smile, his lips twisting in a self-satisfied sneer. "If they get past the demons alive."

[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]

"Where is she?" Jace mutters, surveying the empty roof below. He and Luke have been standing in one of the vampires' makeshift observation rooms for almost an hour. Already he's had to redraw the rune on the window that's keeping them concealed. Clary should have been there by now.

After punching a few buttons, Luke pockets his phone. "She's still not answering."

"Something's happened to her."

"You don't know that. We stick with the plan unless Maryse signals otherwise."

From here, Jace cannot see the other Shadowhunters and Luke's pack, but he knows that they are concealed in the buildings to the north and south, armed and waiting. The standing order is to remain hidden until Sebastian makes a threatening advance. Clary needs a chance to get information from him, like the location of the shard and the Book of the White.

But Clary isn't here.

"I don't care what Maryse thinks." Jace shakes his head. "This isn't right. If Clary got held up, she would have called."

Luke catches Jace's arm as he turns to leave. "The Warlock Promise. There's still time for Clary to show. And until she doesn't, they can't go back on the deal."

"Unless they know she's not coming alone, which—" A shadow of movement through the window beyond Luke's shoulder captures Jace's attention.

Out on the center of the roof, there is a wide metal hatch that leads to the level below—the holding cell where a vampire is kept until the time of his execution. When dawn comes, the hatch is opened, and vampire is elevated in chains to await the coming daylight. The vampires who have condemned him to death watch from the safety of this observation deck. Jace has always found this method of execution to be somewhat dramatic and morbid even by vampire standards. But now, as he watches a narrow crack of light appear down the middle of the hatch, he feels his own anticipation heighten. As the two grated doors separate, slowly sliding open with a mechanical whirring of noise, his heart speeds with the call for death.

Luke releases Jace. "Remember, we wait until the others move in."

But he doesn't have anything to worry about. Jace is rooted to the spot. His eyes don't leave the hatch, which now stands completely open. Something—someone—begins to rise up into the night. He watches, chest tight with a rekindled ferocity, as Sebastian appears inch-by-inch, rising like a victorious warrior on the very platform meant to bring others to their death.

Jace didn't want to believe that Sebastian had survived that night in Idris. Even after a week of preparation for this moment, he finds it difficult to stomach the sight of the man who killed Max and nearly destroyed everything else Jace loves. The fact that he's returned,come for Clary, is like a nightmare dredged up from the darkest parts of his subconscious.

Staring down at the expectant look on Sebastian's face, Jace knows that Sebastian will not leave this roof alive. One of them is going to die here, and Jace still needs to find Clary.

Sebastian steps off the platform. He's wearing dark clothes but not Shadowhunter gear, just blue jeans and a black jacket. On the streets he would have passed as a mundane if it weren't for the Marks curving up the side of his neck and across the backs of his hands.

Sebastian's eyes sweep over the empty rooftop and the elevated observation deck where Luke and Jace are hiding. He doesn't see them. "If we wait for Clary to get this party started, we're going to be standing here all night. And I've got other plans. Of the pillaging and murdering variety."

Jace looks to Luke, but the werewolf's gaze remains on Sebastian and the shadows of the surrounding buildings.

"And I suspect you're wanting this." Sebastian pulls a small book from the inside of his jacket and raises it up for anyone to see.

The Book of the White. Jace is sure of it.

When Sebastian doesn't get a response he shrugs and starts toward the brick foundation of the observation deck. Jace tries to peer down through the window but he can't make him out from this angle.

"What's he doing?"

Luke frowns. "I don't know."

After a long, tense silence, Sebastian steps back into view. A bright light flashes below.

"What the—"

Demons, dozens of them, come pouring out across the rooftop. Sebastian has opened a portal. Jace suddenly feels like he's back in Idris, arriving at the cave just in time to watch Sebastian hack open the gateway to hundreds of demons ready to bloody the fields outside Alicante.

Shadowhunters and werewolves begin leaping over from the adjacent roofs, weapons and teeth bared. There's the first wet sound of a blade breaking flesh.

Jace draws his seraph blade and it ignites like a lick of flame. "I don't know about you, but that looks an awful lot like a signal to me."

Luke's hands have already turned into formidable claws, and the rest of his body slowly begins turning over to the wolf—fur appearing along his arms and eyes sharpening with something nearly feral. "Fair enough."

[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]

The night's chill began to creep into the sanctuary. At the ends of the pews, the candle flames seem to shrink and shiver. Clary glares back at Sebastian. "They know you have the shard."

"Do they? Took them long enough. The Clave's foolish bureaucracy has always been one of its downfalls."

"They're prepared for whatever you have waiting."

Sebastian shrugs. "Killing them was hardly the point."

"Then what is the point? To any of this?" Clary gestures widely with the Promise still in her fist. "What are you doing in New York and what do you want from me?"

The distance between them evaporates as Sebastian steps forward, moving with undisguised grace until he is only inches from her. Clary holds her ground and suppresses the instinct to raise her blade.

"New York itself is inconsequential. I needed somewhere to test the strength of the shard before using it on a grander scale. I couldn't be certain one piece would possess the same qualities as the whole. And it doesn't. My power over the demons has its limitations. But if I focus on only a few…" Sebastian shrugs. "Like the daemon I sent in that stone vessel. It followed my orders explicitly. Except, of course, that it was meant for you and not the Lightwood boy."

"Me?"

He leans in to whisper by her ear. "You think I don't know where you sleep at night?"

[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]

The roof is so small that everyone is practically fighting on top of one another. More than once Jace has narrowly avoids being taken out by a wolf or another hunter sent careening into him from the back or the side. The demons aren't careful. They don't mind if some of their own get caught in the crossfire. But every time one is taken out, it seems two more move in to take its place.

If the circumstances were different, Jace might be enjoying himself. He hasn't had to exert himself like this in months, and the liberation of battle isn't something that can be simulated. He plunges his dagger into the neck of a Kuri demon and spears it through with a seraph blade before whipping around to fend off a couple of Scorprios demons that have cornered Patrick Penhallow. Avoiding the barbed tail of one, he slips in front of the other.

Jace smirks up at the inhumanly wrinkled face that scowls back at him. He doesn't even have the chance to offer a baiting comment before the demon swings a powerful, lumbering arm. There's just enough time for Jace to bring up his blade to block the blow, but he still staggers back from the impact as the demon cries out in pain. Moving quickly, Jace springs forward and swings his sword around in an upward arc that bisects the creature's torso. It shrieks and begins folding in on itself, disappearing back to its home dimension.

Jace catches Patrick's brief nod of thanks. He feels strong.

Something wet splashes against the back of Jace's neck, and there's the burn of demon ichor on his skin. He whips around to find a humanoid demon staggering towards him, two arrows lodged in its back. Ichor drips from its open mouth. Grimacing from the pain of his scalding neck, Jace spins his blade and finishes the foul creature off easily enough. A moment later Alec is at his side, bow in hand. He seems unharmed save for a rip along his sleeve stained with blood.

Alec keeps a watchful eye on the fighting around them. "We're winning, and he's not bringing in reinforcements,"

Jace hasn't caught sight of Sebastian since the battle began. But the portal hasn't been reopened. "No, he's not."

"Clary."

"I know." Jace glances away from Alec's concerned face. "We need to find Sebastian."

[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]

Clary jerks away, but Sebastian's taunting eyes are still too close, boring into her like a brand that makes her skin burn. She wants to say something but her mouth won't open, won't form the denial she hadn't been able to give Maia either. She can't breathe. It's that paralyzing feeling of being caught and tried all at once.

"I've been watching, and it's obvious." He raises a hand and tucks a loose lock of hair back behind her ear. "The way he looks at you like you're his, and the way you blush when he so much as touches you." He drops his hand and makes a disgusted sound. "It's like you want him to fuck you right there in front of everyone. The two of you are sick. Anyone who doesn't see it is an idiot, or maybe they're just fooling themselves."

Finally, Clary finds her voice, even though it trembles when she says, "You don't know anything about me and Jace."

"I know that hiding his perverted feelings for you must be destroying him." The thought seems to please Sebastian, as he presses forward, forcing Clary another step back. "And now having to watch his own parabatai fall all over you while he does nothing. It's almost better than what I'd planned."

Clary has gone white. "This is about Jace. You want to hurt him."

Sebastian's smile vanishes. "Hurt him?" he echoes with a snarl. "I want to make him suffer the loss of everything he's ever loved. I want him hurting until he's begging me to end his miserable life. He ruined everything. He killed my father—"

"Your father?" Clary's eyes narrow. "Valentine was Jace's father. And mine. And he didn't kill—"

"He loved me more." The words are bit out and as cold as ice. In that moment Sebastian is as opaque as he has ever allowed himself to be. Resentment. Hatred. Hurt. Betrayal. Vengeance. They're all there in his face, as clear as distinct colors of paint running together on a canvas without being mixed. Some are bright, vivid shades and some are muted and easily overtaken by the others. Together they form a bleeding picture that leaves Clary nauseous.

This is worse. This is much worse than she had ever thought.

"Jace was nothing but a failed attempt," Sebastian continues viciously. "He never deserved to be a Morgenstern."

"So this has just been a game for you, and now it's over, and you want to kill me." She's shaking, but it's not with fear; it's anger. He's been hiding in the shadows manipulating them this entire time as if they're nothing but toys, and now he's decided that he's bored so it's time to call it quits. No remorse. No humanity. "You're nothing but a desperate coward, Sebastian."

The look Sebastian fixes her with is lethal, and she catches his fingers twitching for something on his belt. "I don't think you understand. Destroying Jace is just a privilege. The real work is finishing what Valentine began. Nephilim have become weak….Together you and I will create a new race of Shadowhunters.

"What do you need me for? Do you actually think I would help you do anything?"

"You're a Morgenstern. One of the last. And the angel blood has made you even stronger. That birthright must be preserved along with the Morgenstern line. It's not your consent I need. Just your body. For as long as it takes."

A chill—a fission of realization—shoots down Clary's spine. "You mean…"

"The merging of your blood with mine will surpass all divisions of heaven and hell. We'll create a brand of hunter unrivaled in this world."

Clary draws her shoulders back and shakes her head. "That's…"

"Necessary."

"Sick," she finishes. "I would die first."

Sebastian looks at her knowingly. "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy our time together."

He reaches out as if to touch her again, but Clary knocks his hand away. Unwillingly, she remembers the kiss they shared standing in the ashes of her ancestors' home. She had been so desperate to rub Jace from her mind, and Sebastian had been so deceptively charming. But even then, kissing him felt like a mistake, like a trap she'd been tricked into. Nothing had ever felt more wrong.

"Go to hell," she bites out,finally raising her seraph blade between them.

Sebastian smiles at the gesture as if she's just done something endearing. "That's right. You'd rather lie on your back for your own brother. If it's the incest that gets going, then maybe if you knew the truth—"

"Shut up and fight me."

[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]

It takes five minutes for Jace and Alec to battle their way to the edge of the roof and climb up onto high ledge. From here, it's easy to judge the tide of the fight. Originally outnumbered, the Shadowhunters and werewolves have now more than evened out the odds. They are slowly but steadily gaining the upper hand.

Jace's attention lingers on Isabelle, who is crouched defensively over the prone body of someone he can't quite make out. But she doesn't seem to have any difficulty warding off the Raum demon that advances on them, and soon Simon appears at her side. When the Raum lashes out at him, it explodes in a cloud of ichor.

Jace continues looking for Sebastian.

"There." Alec points toward the observation deck. Sebastian stands in front of the wall where the portal was opened, surrounded by a semicircle of demons offering him protection from the fray of the fight. He observes the violence around him with a pleased smirk and doesn't give any indication he intends to join the battle.

Jace grits his teeth. "If I get over there, can you draw the demons out?"

Alec nods and briefly claps Jace on the shoulder before jumping back down and moving in Sebastian's direction. Without any further hesitation, Jace takes off along the edge of the roof, circling around to the side closest to the observation deck. There's a narrow ledge that runs beneath the row of tinted windows and that's what Jace aims for as he launches himself in the air, jumping over the heads of two werewolves and clearing them by several feet. He smacks painfully into the windows, but his feet find purchase on the ledge and his fingers dig into the crude gap between brick and glass.

Jace looks over his shoulder and sees that Alec and several other hunters have engaged the demons surrounding the observation deck, leaving Sebastian undefended. Blade drawn, Jace drops backward off the ledge, landing on the ground in a crouch just a few feet from where Sebastian is standing.

Black eyes regard him coolly from beneath a fringe of dark hair. "Jace Morgenstern."

Rising to his full height, Jace stares back. "I would return the favor of needlessly stating your name, but there's a nasty rumor going around that you're not really Sebastian Verlac."

"Who else would I be?"

Jace shakes his head. "I don't know. And, honestly, I don't care. Because at the end of the day, you're still going to be dead."

Sebastian's gaze flickers to where the demons are locked in combat and then returns to Jace. "I knew your sister would keep up her end of the deal. There's something so sincere about her—all she wants is to save your dear mother."

Jace's jaw clenches. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing. A bargain's a bargain. But I can't speak for the person I left her with. He's a very unstable guy."

Growling, Jace lunges forward, seraph blade raised. But instead of drawing a weapon of his own, Sebastian merely lifts a hand, a bright green light flaring in the middle of his palm. Before he can understand what's happening, Jace is lying on his back several yards away. His entire body aches—from his head to his feet. It's as if he's been struck by truck gunning at full speed.

Sebastian smirks down at him. Green electricity sparks around his right fist. "I wouldn't try that—ah!"

Sebastian goes rigid, his body arching backward at an awkward angle as the tip of a blade drives through his sternum. Alec stands at his back, one hand gripping Sebastian's shoulder as he sinks the sword deeper. "That," he says, "was for my brother." He withdraws the blade, and Sebastian crumples face-down onto the ground.

Jace scrambles to his feet, still shaking from the impact of the magic. He watches with growing dread as Sebastian's body begins to change, shrinking so that the clothes become baggy on the slighter frame. Black hair lengthens and turns a bright shade of orange. Two red horns curl from the top of his head.

Crouching down, Jace rolls the body over to find the face of a woman looking up at him with amused eyes.

"Surprise." She grins, revealing straight, white teeth lined with her own blood. A wet cough makes her body shudder. The front of her shirt is beginning to soak through with red.

"But…" Alec gaps at the warlock, incredulous. "She's…"

Hands fisted in the material of the warlock's shirt, Jace shakes her. "Where are they? Where did she meet him?"

"Where do you think?" She chuckles and lets her head roll back against the roof. "What do you think you're all doing here in the first place? When the cat's away…"

Jace and Alec's eyes meet. The Institute.

Alec turns and takes off.

Jace almost can't stop himself from following. He forces himself to stay where he is and tighten his hold on the warlock's shirt. "The Book of the White. Give it to me. Like you bargained you would."

Another bloody smile slips her face. "The thing is,"—she grimaces—"I promised to show up here tonight with the book. And I did. And I promised to wake up your mother." She raises a trembling hand. "But I never said when."

With a snap of her fingers, the warlock is gone. Jace slams his fist into the concrete of the roof and barely registers the pain that shoots up his arm.

[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]

The air is knocked from Clary's lungs as she's sent flying back into a pew. Something cracks, and she wonders whether it was one of her bones. She slumps forward but still manages to twist out of Sebastian's reach when he makes a grab for her arm. He hasn't drawn a weapon, but easily evades her attacks and occasionally makes an offensive move meant to stun.

He's mocking her. She's outmatched, and he knows it; they both do. This is a game, and she's losing.

Sebastian's left hand—the one Isabelle stole with her whip—has been replaced with a metal prosthetic. Clary thinks it must be enchanted because the fingers seem to move as readily as if it were real. She strikes with her seraph blade, and he catches it in his palm. The clang of metal against metal reverberates through the sanctuary. His grip on the blade tightens like a vice, and then he yanks the sword from her hands with bruising force.

Clary dives to reclaim the weapon, but Sebastian tosses it halfway down the aisle where it clatters noisily on the stone floor. He lifts an eyebrow at her as she slowly backs away. "You might look like a Shadowhunter, but you're still as weak and untrained as any Mundane. What a waste."

"Yeah?" Once there is a good fifteen feet of space separating them, Clary stops and reaches into the pouch secured to her belt. "I don't know many Mundanes who could do this." The three throwing stars in her hand each bear the same inscription: Sebastian's name along with the rune for 'send,' a perversion of the method for using fire messages. When Clary releases the blades with an unpracticed toss of her hand, they cut cleanly and swiftly through the air, moving as if guided by an invisible force. They all strike their target. One lodges in Sebastian's arm, and the other two land in the right side of his chest.

None of them are mortal wounds, but Sebastian staggers back, shocked for the first time that night. Clary doesn't waste the opportunity. She sprints forward, a second seraph blade glowing in her hand as she calls its name. The first strike he manages to avoid, but his injuries make him vulnerable to the second.

The tip of the sword catches the side of his neck just beneath his ear and cuts a shallow gash all the way to the collar of his gear. The sight of his blood startles Clary, and she's momentarily distracted by her own success. Sebastian's expression is black with fury.

He draws a sword with his uninjured arm and parries her next several blows, forcing her to go on the defensive and move backward up the steps of the dais. Temporarily she has the high ground, but the advantage doesn't last as Sebastian quickly follows her retreat.

He isn't holding back now. His blows are swift and powerful and cause Clary's arm to tremble and ache. Clary's back hits the altar table. With and expert flourish of his sword, Sebastian disarms her, and there is nothing but a precious inch of air between the tip of his blade and her throat. "That was foolish of you, Clarissa," he growls. "You know, I don't have to be careful with you."

"You don't frighten me."

His eyes narrow. Then he lowers his blade. "Not yet."

Clary watches warily as he replaces the sword in its scabbard and then begins to pull the shuriken from his body one at a time. They fall heavy and bloody to the ground. While he's distracted Clary let's her gaze roam over his clothing, searching until she catches a glint of silver on his belt.

Without warning, Sebastian steps forward and backhands her across the face. The blow whips her head around, and Clary tastes blood in her mouth. His metal hand grips her throbbing jaw and forces her face back to his. He leans in until they're nose-to-nose. "You should be frightened. Everyone should be, but especially you." The fingertips dig painfully into her skin. "Because tonight is just the beginning."

Before Clary even has a chance to respond, Sebastian steps back to strike her again. This time her entire body is knocked sideways, and she blindly steps on one of the fallen shuriken. Already off balance, she slips and strikes her head on the ledge of the altar as she falls to her knees. Black spots ripple across her vision.

Clary is only partially aware of Sebastian yanking her off the floor and twisting one of her arms behind her back. It's not until she feels the cool surface of the altar against her cheek that she becomes aware of the blood dripping down into the corner of her eye and the heat of Sebastian's breath on the back of her neck.

"How do you think I should make him pay?" he mutters near her ear. "A hand for a hand?" His metal claw closes around Clary's left wrist, pinning it to the table and squeezing until she thinks it might snap. She cries out as skin and bone bruise. "You won't need that for my purposes."

Nausea grips her as he crudely presses his hips against her. "Bastard," she hisses.

"But, no," Sebastian continues, ignoring her, "that really wasn't his doing." He releases the arm he has pressed to the table. There's the sound of a blade being drawn from its sheath. Clary redoubles her efforts to struggle against his hold. While blindly clawing at him with one hand, she fights to free the other. But her movements feel sluggish, and he's immovable.

"I think," Sebastian says, "he would appreciate the poetry of this much more."

Pain. Pain like fire and ice rips through her back, and the last thing Clary hears is the sound of her scream echoing in the candlelight.

AN: Again, my apologies for the long wait between chapters. But if it had come much sooner, it would have been shitty quality, so I think it was worth the extra time. The good news is I've already started working on the next chapter, so the wait for part eleven should be shorter. We're getting close to the end here!

Just a reminder...I CANNOT RESPOND TO REVIEWS IF YOU HAVE PRIVATE MESSAGING DISABLED. A couple people have asked me questions in signed reviews, but I can't respond for this reason. So please, check your FFnet account settings. I swear I'm not just ignoring you.