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Clary POV.
When Clary was 13 she'd fell asleep on her favourite hill, spent hours upon hours lying there with her back to the sun, grass imprinting on her freckled cheeks. It was nice, and warm, and Clary had been exhausted from her rigorous training sessions that morning, so when her body hit the ground she'd passed out. And when she finally awoke, her back singing in a strangely delightful pleasure and warmth, she'd actually felt happy.
Clary kind of felt like that now.
Except the warmth was more...intense? Pleasurable?
No...
intimate.
Her back held the same kind of pleasurable heat, and her entire body felt more content then she thought it ever had. The only difference was that pressed against her spine was not open air, but an extremely hard, extremely toned chest.
Oh god.
Se felt the contours of it press against her spine, the lining of each muscle expanding and contracting with every breath, pushing at her own sore muscles in there wake. It was exhilarating and as a hand brushed down her side she swore that chest felt every shiver that ran through her vertebrae. That hand encircled her hip, encompassing it in its warmth, and long, delicate fingers drew small circles on her lower abdomen.
Oh god, Angel Raziel please help her.
Clary didn't realize her eyes were still closed until they shot open at a husky exhale near her ear.
Oh Angel.
She really needed to get out of this bed. Like...now.
When a leg started to move up against the back of hers, sending little tingles throughout her entire body, she shot out of the embrace and the bed. Moving away from the tangled mass of blankets she took a look at the man residing there. He looked like a sleeping angel.
Clary remembered a time when she was certain angels didn't exist.
Boy was she wrong.
And right now all Clary wanted to do was hop back into that bed and let that angel hold her, caress her, stroke all her pain away. And then she wanted to lay there still, wrapping her arms around that angel, placing his lips on her own, let his hands wander all over her body and...
Clary shook her head to clear it of thoughts. They could be dealing with a war and right now she was thinking of kissing a boy?
When did she turn into a regular teenage girl?
With a deep breath she made her way into the hallway, closing the door with a soft click behind her, and walked into the brightly-lit kitchen. As she made her way to the pantry and pulled out a cookie Clary sat down on the counter. Right in front of her a window was letting brilliant white sunlight to stream in, and though she was blinded momentarily, shifting herself made a great view to the outside.
There was forest, and a little pathway led to the river. The sun was shining as bright as could be and a...a...were those statues in the middle of the yard?
No, it looked like...Clary squinted and sure enough one of the statues had moved.
So definitely not a piece of stone. Maybe...
A cloud passed over the sun and Clary got enough sight to witness Sebastian standing rim-rod straight like always, running a hand through his black devilish hair, and plastering a charming smile on his face.
Sebastian. But not alone.
With him was Aline. She was sticking her chin out defiantly. A proud stout was fixing her posture and her glossy sheet of black hair was cascading down her shoulders.
What were those two doing?
Clary was close to the window now, the tip of her nose pressed right up against the pane of glass, and her hand holding a crumbing cookie.
With a shock Clary realized that Sebastian was starting to look around them. His gaze taking everything in. And he'd just reached the house before Clary ducked underneath the cover of the sink.
With a flutter of breath she started to crawl towards the hallway. He couldn't catch her. Because maybe he was doing something bad with Aline. Maybe they were in cahoots with each other. She didn't know. She was just taking it one foot at a time until she finally reached the doorway, moving into the shadows of the hall. And yet when she turned around she was faced with Sebastian's silhouette looming before the window. His face blocked out a majority of the frame, and his eyes were as black as his shadow. She stumbled up, her feet slipping and disheveling the old carpet beneath her, and ran back to her room, slamming the door closed and leaning back against it.
With the only hope she had left she'd prayed he didn't see her.
But she knew he did. He always saw.
Carla POV
"You're a-a"
"The Resistance", a greasy looking man spoke out. Carla really didn't like that all these people kept interrupting them.
Seriously, where were their manners.
"Against what? Shadowhun-" she was cut off yet again.
"The Morgentern's. And all that accompany themselves with them." the grubby woman from earlier blurted. "But shadowhunters can all go to hell for all I care. I just want to get back at Valentine." she paused. "He killed my boy. A small child! The only evil greater than that is the evil things I will do to him when I finally get the chance!" The woman stuck out her hand. "Elise. Roberts. Elise Roberts, pleased to meet ya, not pleased to meet ya here." She gave Carla a tooth smile, give or take a few teeth. She was sure it was meant to reassure but...to be honest, it scared her more than anything. And Carla found herself wanting to run away, not shake her disgusting hand.
"Carla." she met the woman's blistered sores with a hand that looked much like her own.
Carla hated self-pity but that didn't stop the stab of self-hatred running through her mind. Why did she have to be so judgmental to this woman when she was exactly like her.
That handshake seemed to last forever.
Carla felt warmth on her shoulder and turned to see Jack Blythe standing there. "Don't mind E, she scares everyone but...she's harmless." his face fell a little bit. "Scratch that, we're pretty sure she's harmless."
Elise's nose flared up and her chin jutted out in exasperation. " Jack Blythe- when your mother hears about ya disrespecting your elders..."
"Come on E," Jack whined like a kid. "Don't tell Ma. Please."
With a look of mustered acceptance E replied. "You're lucky I'm a good soul, boy, or ya'd be fed to the shadows"
As both E and the crowd dispersed Carla asked him, mostly to fill in the empty silence "How old are you?"
"17 yesterday." was his reply. Carla felt a strange surge inside of her. She was 17 too.
"Congratulations," that was what you said on birthdays in the Morgenstern Manor. Like wow you survived one year. Try another and see if you're as lucky.
"Thanks." he said a little stiffly. "But a Happy Birthday would've sufficed."
"Happy Birthday then"
His mouth curled up. She realized blatantly that she like it when he did that. Not grin, or frown, but just almost smile. Like the thought was what counted, not the action itself.
"What did Elise mean," she asked as they started to walk out of the room. "by 'you'd be fed to the shadows'"
His mouth curled up again. "It's kind of like a joke. what do shadowhunters always say... You'd be fed to the demons? Well shadowhunters are our demons. You'd be fed to the shadows' is basically that" he explained.
She tried not to take offense to that. Him calling her kind some horrid foul nightmarish monster.
She just focused on the thought that she was a demon to him.
Because knowing that somebody just compared you to a life-sucking, no-soled, cursed, and utterly evil thing meant to be wiped completely off the face of the earth stung. Just a little...
"I'll be showing you around the compound too. So you'll be with me a lot for most of the week." Jack announced.
Scratch that.
Knowing somebody was forced to spend time with you, but didn't even know you were a life-sucking, no-soled, and utterly evil thing meant to be completely wiped off the earth hurt more.
Because the fault fell on herself, not him anymore.
Jonathon POV
He watched the black head bob up and down as the man took a morning run. He was out far in the forest, a little too far, or maybe Jonathon was nearing a little too close to Alicante.
He hadn't thought to look there before but this man, the one running just a few feet up the trail, this man looked an awful lot like the man he wanted to kill right now. Sebastian.
It looked like Sebastian.
Jonathon could only see his back, but the hair looked identical, midnight black. And the way this man was running, it was exactly how all the guards and soldiers in the Morgenstern Manor ran. With a forceful step and thundering echoes. Exactly how Sebastian was taught to run.
Stealthily Jonathon moved up behind the man and after running for a minute tackled him into the ground. The man fell with a roar.
Jonathon thrust his blade up to the man's throat and yanked his head up. But as the man clawed for purchase on the dirt around him, Jonathon realized the eyes were not black but a sea-green. He still slipped the knife onto the man's throat.
"Do you know of a Sebastian Verlac" he snarled into the man's ear, a demand for answer not a question.
"I-I-I can't...breath," the mans eyes rolled back and his face fell into features of shock. "Jonathon" he whispered.
This was not good. Nobody could know he was here. Because if one knew, another could be told. And his sister could know too.
"Sebastian Verlac" Jon snarled again, spit flying into the man's face. He cringed. Jonathon pressed the blade deeper. There was a gasp and the man's mouth flew open.
"Pen...hallows" Jonathon heard the man whisper. With one last flick of his wrist, sending the knife to spiral deeper into the man's skin, Jonathon dropped his head back onto the hard earth. He got to his feet and sprinted down the path from where the man had come from. Towards the Penhallows. Towards Clarissa.
He didn't notice the blood trickling from the man's slightly open mouth.
And he didn't recall once, that there was soldier belonging to his Manor, one that had not been seen for a while, with midnight black hair, sea-green eyes, and a guard-like walk, that loved to run.
A soldier named Choal.
Review.
Please it would mean a lot and I need some feedback. Criticism is okay too. I totally take criticism. Just tell me if i should continue, because i have it somewhat planned out now and am not righting it from a blank screen and mind, but i would move on if it wasn't working anymore.
Anyways thanks just for reading, it means a bunch, and please read again!
Lovestory.
