Chapter 66 – Lost and Found

The moment my father's hologram disappeared, the silence of the vast Clave chamber oppressed me. Instead of immediately bursting into excited chatter, as I would have expected from them, they all sat as quietly as a mouse on the benches. All their eyes were on me. They clung to me like weights, pulling my muscles down and disrupting my every movement. They stared at me because in my hands rested the Soul Sword that they had thought was lost. But I had managed to take exactly that away from my father. I had managed to get it into my possession.

And now they were all waiting breathlessly to see what I would do with it. With this power. Because I had nothing other than power in my hands. At that moment, I was almost certainly the most powerful person on the planet; an army of demons at hand should I call them. And I could understand why, despite Valentine's disappearance, some people still had fear written all over their faces.

I was his daughter. Raised by a psychopath who wanted that sword so badly that he wouldn't hesitate to break her fingers because she got in the way. In their eyes, I may have been a gifted fighter, but I was even more unpredictable. Over the past few weeks, trauma after trauma had hunted me, and I had proven more than once that I was capable of making irrational, unstable decisions. If I decided to take that power, they wouldn't know if I might be capable of the same things as my father.

The energy of the Mortal Sword coursed through my veins, but I felt like I was losing more of my own power with every second. As if it took away all the adrenaline that had just been pumping through my body. In awe, my eyes slid over the silver blade of the giant sword, and I felt my legs wobble beneath me – fail.

Someone put an arm around me from behind; kept me from plunging. I fell to my knees, my intact hand clenched convulsively around the hilt of Mellartach. A blink of an eye later, two faces burst into my field of vision. One pair of eyes gold, the other blue. Their looks were so different and yet similar, which surprised me since the Inquisitor had never liked me. Let alone worried about me.

"Clary?" Jace's frightened voice finally broke me out of the trance of blood loss.

For a minute, everything around me seemed to buzz with intensity. My mind had been able to fortify itself thanks to the adrenaline. But now I hit the surface of reality with full force and my senses suddenly returned. The pulsation in my injured hand — the hand through which my father had plunged a dagger — made me gasp.

I felt that it was suddenly becoming difficult for me to breathe. Suddenly my chest rose and fell far too quickly. My lungs didn't seem to be getting enough oxygen. My blinking eyes fell on the hole in the back of my right hand and my stomach churned.

I blinked and suddenly the Clave hall was gone. Instead, I sat tied up in a basement. The blood was everywhere. I heard myself screaming and the pain was unbearable.

I blinked again and that distant place was gone. Jace and Imogen reappeared in front of me and Jace had sat down next to me in the blood as if it wasn't even there. His arms supported me, kept me upright. I still held Mellartach, but the blade rested on his lap. Secure. It was safe there.

"I really hope it's not too early for that," Imogen murmured, the edge that was always in her tone gone. The light blue of her eyes had softened. Whether it was for Jace's sake or because she felt sorry for me, I couldn't say. I sucked in a breath as she pressed her stele against my skin. The cool power of the adamas flowed through me and even as Imogen drew the Iratze, I found it easier to breathe. When she released me and skeptically leaned back to examine me, the black edges disappeared from my vision.

I turned my head and looked down at my injured hand. I didn't even realize I was leaning against Jace; that he bore my weight; that we both sat in the blood of Malachi, myself and my father; that he looked at me like I was going to disappear or die or go crazy any second.

A ragged gasp of breath escaped my throat and I ignored the intensity of Imogen's gaze on us, darting between us. I focused on my blood-red hand, slowly raising it to my face and curling my fingers one by one. All intact. The muscle healed. The hole gone.

I finally met Imogen's gaze, unsure of what to expect. "You may have saved us all, child," she said after a moment of silence. She too knelt in the vast pool of blood. She seemed resigned. Beaten. As if she was finally giving up on seeing me as the enemy. But there was more and it hurt. In a way no physical wound could. She felt sorry for me. Because my mother was dead and my father was a psychopath who had poisoned his son to take over the world and would rather stab his daughter than give up his lust for power. Because there was no one in this world who put me first. Although your own parents should internalize exactly this task.

I had to break eye contact with her. Instead, I focused on the Mortal Sword in my hand. Somewhere behind me I heard Isabelle and Alec discussing. The Nephilim had also broken their silence. The sword was heavy in my hand, continuing to drain my strength as if it were a living being and not an object. Maybe it was the Infernal Conversion that triggered this. Or perhaps the spell that elicited the truth from every Nephilim who touched it.

"You can let go now," Jace murmured quietly next to me. He still had his right arm wrapped around my shoulders, as if he was afraid I would drown in all the blood without him.

I didn't let go of the sword. Instead, I staggered to my feet, letting Jace continue to support me because my feet were tingling like crazy. I loosened my grip on the Mortal Sword and moved it to my other hand, which had just been pierced. Using my now free hand to hold onto Jace, I raised my sword arm.

Mellartach's blade glittered in the witch-light, casting twisted shadows on the scarlet ground. "This sword is the reason my mother is dead," I explained weakly, addressing no one in particular. The sadness in my chest had changed over time. Not subsided, but pushed into the background by all the other urgencies. I didn't have enough time to really think about it. I would have to work through that if I survived this war. If there was still a war to survive.

"Your brother Jonathan is the reason," the Inquisitor remarked with a neutral expression. "The Soul Sword is nothing more than a weapon wielded at the will of its bearer. It's neither evil nor good. If anyone is to blame, it's Valentine."

"He must die," I whispered, my eyes unwaveringly fixed on the Mortal Sword. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was aware that there were still a lot of Shadowhunters watching us. "He will take the sword back. He will turn the world upside down to get it back. We have to kill him if we want to stop this."

"I will take care of that," the Inquisitor promised, taking a step towards Jace and me. "Just as I will take care of the sword."

"It must be very well guarded." I tore myself away from the sight of the sword that had cost Jocelyn her life. It was easier to have her name in mind. It made her seem stranger.

"We will guard it with our lives." A promise that she was obliged to make as an Inquisitor. Especially in times like these.

A sigh escaped my lips as I lowered my arm and walked toward Imogen, handing her the Mortal Sword. She took it from me with such care, as if it were the most valuable item she had ever owned. "I have a premonition that that won't be enough."

oOo

The day dragged on. As we left the Gard after a depressing crisis meeting in the Inquisitor's office, I had expected the lulling colors of the sunset on the horizon. Instead, we were greeted by the rays of a powerful spring sun and, judging by its position, it was only afternoon.

I trotted along after Isabelle and Alec, not really paying attention to my surroundings. I was exhausted, hungry and glum. I cursed my family, who always caused trouble and terror. I cursed fate for putting me in this family. I wanted to close my eyes, forget, and pretend that I was nothing but ordinary, nothing special, not the final link between the friendship and enmity of this community.

The encounter with my father loomed over me like a heavy hammer, ready to strike me down at any moment. Father. That title had lost its significance for me, and yet I couldn't shake off the shock that had enveloped me since the Clave meeting, like a dried layer of blood around my heart. He had stabbed me. I was his child, and he had promised to kill me at the next opportunity.

It shouldn't affect me. By now, I should be immune to these ridiculous emotions that still connected me to him. I was weak, and he knew it all too well.

The snow was melting, and I hoped that it would finally disappear for good. I couldn't see it anymore. It reminded me of my mother, of Jonathan, and of my failures.

Behind me, Jace's boots crunched on the cobblestone. I hadn't spoken to him since I had given his grandmother the Mortal Sword. I didn't feel like talking. Even though he had helped me fight back against my father, I couldn't look at him. There were so many thoughts and urgencies cluttering and occupying my brain and I couldn't afford Jace's strange behavior of the past few days, especially not today's. I would just wait until he resolved the conflict that was bothering him and causing his moods to fluctuate.

Someone hooked my arm and I blinked to push away the voices in my brain. Isabelle gave me a big grin, as if she was about to tell me a secret that hadn't actually been a secret for a long time. "A lot has happened since you were kidnapped that we need to work through," she explained conspiratorially and then turned her head briefly to look over her shoulder at Jace. "You should have seen the scene he made because of you." She giggled as if everything that had happened to me in the last few days was nothing but a fairy tale from a book. Mischief sparkled in her brown eyes. She needed this. The gossip, the tension of everyday life, the distraction. Everyone had their own way of dealing with it. Perhaps it would also help me to finally banish my father from my thoughts. "He was really worried about you. He even gave Imogen a hard time for her failure."

"I would have liked to see that," I murmured, putting a smile on the corner of my mouth. "Any opportunity to show Imogen up should be taken advantage of. I have long doubted whether this woman has any feelings at all."

Isabelle approvingly told me about their hunt for clues after they had found Malachi's name in the darkness behind the Accords Hall. How Jace had allegedly threatened Malachi in front of his grandmother using angelic power to learn my true location.

Although she probably told me to make it clear to me that they had been looking for me all along and hadn't just given up on me, it made me think. Behind my back, Jace had seemed desperate to find me. Yet in my presence, he couldn't manage to maintain a facade. I thought he would have shaken off that hostility after tonight.

The only star in the sky. All the things he had said under cover of darkness bubbled up in my mind and I wondered how much of it he had actually meant. At that moment I had thought he was being honest, that he had really meant it. All of it. I still want to kiss you.

It took my breath away not knowing what that was about. Was the whole thing a game for him? In your presence, I can't seem to express myself like a normal person. Was it embarrassment? No matter what it was, I didn't understand it. I was as clueless of these things as a blank slate and that frightened me. Really frightened me. I had no idea of this world and perhaps walked straight into the next trauma without even recognizing it as such because my senses were trained only for the battlefield. Would I regret it if I let myself fall into this?

Some time later, by now we were sitting in the Lightwoods' kitchen with steaming plates, Isabelle had turned her monologue into a cross-examination and was peppering me with questions about everything that came to mind. I felt like my downcast mood was evident, and she seemed to make an effort to keep me occupied. If I hadn't been so focused on the food in front of me, I would have found it amusing to watch her think. How each of my answers lit a new light in her brain and a new question came to mind. As if her curiosity had no limits.

Answering their questions was uncomfortable. Mainly because Alec and Jace were both still present and listening. At least I had already told Jace almost everything about the abduction. So it was less torturous to take another swing. But Isabelle skillfully avoided the goriest details of my recent past. What interested her was of a completely different nature.

"I can't believe Adam confessed his love for you in front of everyone," she blurted out as we discussed his appearance at the Ashdowns' country house. "Well, not that I'm surprised about it. It was really super obvious. And under better circumstances that would actually have been somewhat romantic."

"It wasn't romantic," I managed between bites. "And it wasn't a confession either because, as I said, I already knew."

"Be honest, would you have told me about it if he hadn't spilled it in front of everyone?" Isabelle asked. She had talked so much that her own plate was barely touched.

"Probably not," I admitted and she groaned in frustration. "What's there to say? Besides, he kissed me in the Accords Hall in front of everyone," I finally blurted out a little more forcefully and I waved my fork in front of her face accusingly. "Isn't that enough of a confession?"

"Yeah exactly, right in front of everyone. Except, of course, I didn't see it," she muttered dissatisfiedly, and I could hear the hint of offence in it. Hopefully she didn't blame me for that too. I was about to roll my eyes when hers met mine. A more serious expression in it than before and then she patted me on the shoulder in a half-amused, half-pity gesture. "This world is new to you, Clary, so I'll give you some advice. From woman to woman. Don't confuse a kiss with love. People kiss each other all the time, Nephilim included. You kiss out of passion, because you think the other person is hot or because you just feel like it. Adam may be in love with you, but that's not a prerequisite for a kiss. Just look at how twisted his supposed love for you is."

Jace was suddenly quite busy picking at his food. I felt a blush rising to my cheeks and I stared at the edge of my plate as unresponsively as possible. "Then how do I know–?"

"Point one," Isabelle began, seeming completely in her element. "If alcohol is involved, a kiss means nothing. I'm the best example of that." She giggled to herself and now Alec suddenly rolled his eyes knowingly, which in turn made me smile. "I kiss people all the time when I'm drunk and usually regret it later. That's why Adam's kiss wouldn't actually have been an indication if he hadn't confessed his love later on."

"No alcohol while kissing," I murmured, nodding with mock eagerness, as if checking off an imaginary checklist. Jace abruptly stood up from the table and took his half-full plate to the sink. "Got it."

"No, no!" Isabelle almost jumped off the chair as she stretched her hands across the table in a defensive gesture. "There's nothing better than kissing drunk. And since the war against your family seems to be looming despite your extraordinary heroic efforts, I've decided that you could use a good dose of distraction beforehand."

"Oh yes, I'm so incredibly heroic," I replied with my own sarcasm, playfully leaning back in my chair. "I only stood in the way of my father and the Mortal Sword so that I could play the hero at the end of the day."

Isabelle ignored the sharpness of my irony and continued unmoved. "Tomorrow there is a party in the southern part of the city to which we are invited. And we'll go and get drunk and have fun. And you're going to find someone you think is hot and make out with them. No excuses. It's something you have to do at least once in your life. So ... just in case the war doesn't go too well. For safety's sake. I can't die believing that Adam was your one real kiss. I can't depart with that on my conscience. This goes against my morals."

We jumped when Jace dropped his plate in the sink. A curse escaped his lips that made even Alec's eyes widen. Even though the last few hours had been hell, I had to laugh. Not because of Jace. No. Isabelle had seen our kiss in front of the Seelie Queen with her own eyes, but hadn't mentioned it, as if it hadn't even existed. I knew she did it on purpose. Just not why. I also had no idea why Jace was acting so strange. He had enough opportunity to express himself. Instead, he had fallen into a constant loop of silence. Even Alec had exchanged more words with us.

"You're crazy," I blurted out. "You must be crazy. Have you ever looked at me?" It was unintentional and yet a second later, I felt three pairs of eyes resting on me, examining me closely. As Isabelle and Alec raised their eyebrows in equal confusion, I sighed in frustration. "My last name is Morgenstern, Izzy. Have you forgotten that half the city hates me? The last attempted murder on me was … let me think … a few hours ago."

"There's still fifty percent left." Isabelle shrugged, as if nothing I said could convince her otherwise. There was something sparkling in her eyes that made me tilt my head suspiciously. "The green dress from the ball really looked phenomenal on you. There were a few gentlemen who were eyeing you up," Isabelle emphasized conspiratorially, and a mysterious grin spread on her lips. "I'm sure most people would throw such thoughts aside so close to such a significant battle. Precisely because you are a Morgenstern. You're becoming more popular, believe me. And you're basically famous. Everyone wants famous people."

"My goodness, Izzy, these Shadowworlder parties in New York aren't doing you any good," Alec remarked, burying his head in his hands. But on the edge of his palm I could see a grin that he tried hard to hide. As if he understood something I didn't. As if he saw through her while I was in the dark. "You sound like a rancher trying to sell his animals."

"But I'm just making real life palatable to her," Isabelle protested. "She shouldn't think that every party ends in such a disaster. They almost never do. And we can't just sit here for the next five days and wait for our fate. We have to live while we still can. And Clary should take advantage of this chance. That's all I'm saying."

"What exactly does getting drunk and making out with complete strangers have to do with living?" Jace suddenly intervened, his plate clattering loudly as he washed it. You would think that someone who could throw a dagger with precision like a machine could wash a plate without making a sound. As we turned to face him, my gaze first fell upon his blood-stained gear, the blood now dried and crusted. Then onto his hands. He shoved them straight into his pockets. They trembled. I wanted to say something, but his hard, distant pupils were fixed on Isabelle. "She's already learned that alcohol equals surrendering control. What does that have to do with fun?"

Despite his unkind words, Isabelle gave Jace a smile that only seemed to grow wider and more devious. Provocative if I hadn't known better. "Not everyone looks like you. A guy with your looks doesn't need alcohol. You just enter the room at these parties and half the women want to sleep with you. That depresses me. That's why you're not invited tomorrow. I hate watching you flirt. The worst part is that it works every time."

Alec burst out laughing while Jace looked almost offended. "She's right. Your pick-up lines are the worst, yet they still work every time."

A grin appeared on Jace's face, just for a split second. Just until his golden eyes met mine and he remembered that I was also sitting at the table listening to their discussion. A look of embarrassment, which turned to nervousness as Isabelle continued, spread across his face.

"And that brings us to point two, Clary." Isabelle took a theatrical breath. "Never trust a man."

"That … you need to clarify."

Isabelle came around the table, sat down in Jace's empty seat and leaned over to me. She stroked my hair down my back, and I followed her finger as she tapped my chest. The place above the heart. "Men like to play with us. I think that gives them the kick. They'll promise you the moon just to have you. Don't be fooled. Very few keep their promises. So take what you want, but separate pleasure from feelings. It's not the same, especially for them."

"The way you talk, you'd think you were one of them." Alec pulled his hair out and pushed his chair back. "Why are you even telling her all this? Look at her face, you scared her. Now she will never trust anyone again. You probably just ruined her entire future."

"I …" I stammered, looking from Isabelle to Alec, but pointedly not to Jace. "I'm doing well."

"Someone has to teach her the social rules. And I'm just protecting her from what has happened to me and most women at least once in their lives," Isabelle replied smugly and shrugged.

"We're not all like that, Clary," Alec said, giving me a long, meaningful look. At some point in the last few weeks he stopped trying to kill me with his looks all the time. "Some, yes, but if you stick with the good ones, then you don't have to worry about trust."

"How did we drift from Adam's declaration of love to something like this?" I asked instead, massaging my temples. "I haven't even agreed to the party yet, and you're already trying to play matchmaker."

"No!" Isabelle groaned. "No matchmaking. Making out and setting someone up aren't the same thing. And we're going to the party. I'll drag you there whether you want to or not. I don't want to go alone and even if you don't feel like it, I want to turn some guys' heads."

I lowered my gaze to the table. If kisses and promises meant nothing in this world, then Jace and I could be special just from my perspective. Isabelle was right. I had no experience whatsoever. But I couldn't shake the feeling that both Isabelle and Alec had just subconsciously wanted to tell me something else. Even if I didn't really understand it.

"Let's talk about it tomorrow," I said, slowly getting up from the table. The chair squeaked as I pushed it back. "I'm tired and I need to change. My clothes are covered in blood."

Understanding flashed across Isabelle's features and she nodded slightly without saying anything in response. Shortly afterwards, I climbed the stairs to the second floor and wondered whether I would make it to the shower or whether my eyes would close before then. My feet had just cleared the last step when suddenly someone came clattering up behind me. My muscles responded before my exhausted brain caught up. I spun around and reached for my weapon belt, only to grasp for air.

Jace stopped in front of me, almost tripping over the edge of a step. He leaned on the railing and then raised his head to meet my eyes. In this position we were about eye level, him a little below me. He looked breathless with his wide golden eyes and half-open mouth. His hair hung disheveled around his ears as if he had run to catch up with me.

"Can I help you?" I asked confused and walked backwards into the hallway so he could follow from the stairs.

Jace sucked the air into his lungs with a sigh and then pushed his hair back from his forehead. As he moved toward me, he loomed over me again. "I … I need to talk to you."

"Can it wait?" I didn't want to sound dismissive, but I couldn't help it. After his behavior during the trial and the things Isabelle had just warned me about, I didn't really know how to behave towards him. "Until tomorrow maybe?"

"No." Jace shook his head vehemently and took a long step to close the distance between us. My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You act like you're surprised what I'm doing here," he stated in a dissatisfied tone.

That sparked anger in my chest. "Yes, I am actually surprised," I hissed, taking another step back. Jace's facial muscles tightened and his fingers balled into fists. "This morning in that damn cell everything was fine, but as soon as the trial started— No. Even then everything was still fine. You only started acting so strangely when Adam–" My voice faltered in confusion, causing me to be unable to contain the anger in it. I narrowed my eyes and replayed the trial in my head, only half catching Jace's reaction in front of me.

His shoulders slumped and the defensive posture on his face collapsed, as if I had hit a window with a closed fist and now it cracked. "Jace ..."

Jace closed his eyes. Pressed his eyelids together so vehemently as if he were wishing himself out of this place. He let out a tight breath from his nose and when he finally opened his eyes, the wall around his thoughts and feelings was gone. "Remember when I said I wanted to try to be friends with you?"

I blinked several times and then shook my head in protest. "What does that have to do with it?"

"Just answer the question," Jace said forcefully, as if his life depended on the question. "Do you remember?"

"Yes, of course I remember." It had been the beginning of something new. The end of the war between us.

"I lied."

I wish I could say that this sentence didn't hit me – that I didn't care. But I could feel my heart sinking. My lips twitching and my face turning into an ice landscape. And just as I was about to say something mean in response to my pain, Jace grabbed my hands and pulled me toward him, his own features wrapped in cautious neutrality. But I could see the fierce longing burning in his eyes.

"I don't want to just be friends with you. But I tried to convince myself for a long time," he continued. I was glad he was holding me because my feet suddenly started shaking. "I've been thinking about this for so long and–"

"Stop." The word was devoid of any emotion. The tremor in my feet had spread to my fingers and I snatched my hands away from him. "Stop it. I don't want to hear it."

"What … What do you mean?" The vulnerability was suddenly written all over his face and I doubted whether I had done the right thing.

I didn't know what I was doing here. I let my instinct guide me, but it was only acting from a place of fear itself. To protect me. To save myself from possible heartache. So I opened my mouth and explained myself. "You kiss me. Kiss me several times. Tell me how great you think I am. Promise that you have changed. And not a day later you treat me like I'm that stranger again. This traitor. Liar. Spy." Jace looked like he was falling from the sky. As if he hadn't realized how much his attitude from before had stuck with me. "Adam enters the room and suddenly you are like a different person. And then Isabelle comes in with her speech about men and how it's best to just not trust anyone. And I already have a hard time trusting people. So what reason do I have to trust you, Jace? You're not giving me one. And if you're just playing with me, I know my pride couldn't bear it, and I don't want to kill you trying to restore my wounded pride. Because believe me, I have no idea how else to deal with this."

Jace sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "Sometimes I forget that you have no idea about any of this," he admitted. "Sometimes I forget how isolated you were raised." When he saw my look, he lowered his eyes. "I was– No, I am jealous of Adam. I can't explain why because he betrayed you and I know the feeling makes no sense. But every time he looks at you, I feel the urge to wring his neck. When he kissed you, I wanted to kill him. As I followed you out, I constructed reasons in my head that would have made his murder seem plausible. But to hear him admit it in front of the whole Clave ... to hear that he's already told you. The thought that he told you and you could choose him breaks me. No matter how absurd this decision may be."

My mouth hung open; had opened as he spoke. There were no words on my tongue. Not because I had nothing to say. I wanted to laugh, wanted to scream at him, wanted to cry. A strange relief washed over me because I had expected worse. Much worse. This ... this was ... I didn't know what this was.

"That's no reason to treat me like trash," I said and wanted to jump out the window. I was truly incompetent.

"It's not," he admitted, and when he reached for my hands again, I let him. Maybe because of that intensity in his eyes that I wanted to give in to. Maybe because I was exhausted and had trouble standing upright. "It was wrong. I couldn't control myself. This feeling overwhelmed me. I'm sorry."

Since I could count Jace's apologies on one hand – and Isabelle probably could too – I knew he was serious. I felt his fingers, entwined with mine, warm and inviting, with a racing pulse. I squeezed his hands, allowing myself to be more taken by them; letting him pull me closer, as he noticed me letting down my guard.

"I want my love to be enough," he murmured into my hair.

My body stiffened. A shaky breath escaped my throat. Did he know why? Did he know what he was saying? Did he know what he was doing? You would think that by now I would have gotten used to the loneliness, the emptiness in my chest that Jonathan and my mother had left behind. But I felt the hole that their love had left behind. Felt the longing. To home. To belonging. Security. Peace.

The corners of my eyes were wet as I spoke, "After what Izzy said, I don't know if–"

"Forget what Izzy said," Jace pleaded. He released his right hand from mine, pressed his fingers gently under my chin, and forced my head toward him. A gentle smile spread across his face, making his golden irises shine. "She's an idiot and only said all that to provoke me. Even though she's right. I don't want you to think wrong about me and I don't want to wait any longer or keep anything secret from you. I want you to understand the full extent of my feelings. I love you, Clary. I've loved you for a while and I hope you love me back because otherwise you would hurt my pride and now that I say it out loud I don't know what I would do if that happened." He was nervous. He was afraid of my reaction.

"You love me," I whispered, my fingers running up to his face, running through his hair, tracing his cheek, brushing his lips. Jace gasped and nodded. "Describe this feeling to me."

"I can't stay away from you," he replied in the same whisper, leaning toward me. His voice was lulling and intoxicating at the same time. "I don't want it either. I've fought this need for too long." I watched as his golden eyes darkened; how he tried to capture me with his eyes, as if one look wasn't enough; as if he wanted to burn my face onto his retinas. I knew it was true because I felt the same way. A moment later his mouth was on mine and I felt like I was breathing more freely than before. His hands went to my waist and wrapped around my body, pressing me against the wall behind me. I gasped as Jace pressed his lips against mine so hard that my vision blurred. "I want you," he sighed and at first I wasn't sure if I was imagining it or he was actually speaking. "Every fiber of my body wants you." Breaking out of the kiss for a moment, his fingers roamed over my body, igniting my senses as if I were on fire. He pressed himself against me and we were so close that I had no idea where I ended and he began.

His lips slid over mine. Our tongues roamed around each other, dancing with each other. Our breath mingled. I didn't know when I wrapped my arms around his neck. It wasn't until he had trouble tilting his head back to look down at me that I even noticed. He smiled. So different from his half-hearted or amused or arrogant smiles. Jace smiled with such intimacy, so free from any fear of revealing his true emotions, that I feared I might burst into tears.

"I want to know your secrets. Your feelings, thoughts, no matter how stupid or repulsive or unpleasant, I want to know everything. I want you to be my world and I want to be your world."

"My father always said that to love is to destroy and to be loved is to be destroyed," I said, looking so deeply into his eyes that my mind seemed out of this universe. Jace seemed to be drinking me in with his gaze. But now he wavered, as if he didn't know how my story would end. "I have loved so few people in my life and yet I have been destroyed more than once. I know that without this love I wouldn't be standing here today. So this destruction can't be that bad. If that's the prerequisite, I willingly accept it."

This time it was me who kissed him.

Yes, destruction would befall us. I could feel it in my bones. It was just a matter of time. Time that would expire in five days. Mortal Sword or not.

Despite all this, Jace didn't hesitate to embrace the destruction.

Sorry for not posting last week, I was traveling and forgot to mention it before. What do you think about this chapter? I like it pretty much! Let me know! :)

Skyllen