A/N: Another chapter? What witchcraft is this? Hahaha well, here it is…

~~ Caspian ~~

Caspian found there was little to calm his anger and frustration. His last conversation with Aspen was still engrained in his mind, and he hated it. He'd made it sound like he was running off to live at the Towns, and it was not something that Caspian could accept. He still had no answers, and he had made it to his breaking point, unable to come back after he'd snapped.

Heading to the Towns with a deadly intent, he picked a time when he was unlikely to be seen, using an exit that Sol didn't know about, which he'd ironically learnt from Aspen. Taking to the streets, he could not see much besides red. It was not the first time he'd gone to the Towns with a death wish, although it had been a long time ago since the last occasion. His reckless streak had returned now that he had no energy or will to temper it with, and he found he didn't care. Why did it matter whether he lived or died? He had lost everything, and it was not a fact that he could hide from anymore. Fate had always been cruel to him, and perhaps this was the end.

Scraping his blade along an alleyway wall to sharpen it, the noise grated on his nerves. He wanted to taste blood again, and he didn't care if it was his own, or someone else's. He had left his staff behind again, but on purpose this time, only bringing some longer daggers along with him. A punishment, of sorts.

Seeing a group of three ifrits up ahead, he smiled slowly, calling out a taunt to them. It was easy enough – ifrits were rather pathetic after all, being a warlock who could not use magic. There was little use for them. One of them responded, drawing a knife and throwing a warning shot at him. He laughed, easily dodging out of the way. No, if he was to die, it was not going to be some stupid way. It would be in a decent fight.

Closing the gap between them quickly, he swiped out with his dagger, catching the one who had thrown the knife, on his arm. The ifrit hissed, drawing back, and the other two advanced forwards, drawing their own daggers. Caspian dodged the attack of the first one, but he recklessly allowed the second to land, instead concentrating on wounding the first one, following up with a cut to their middle. He could feel some blood seep through his sleeve, but it only made him feel more alive. Licking his lips, he lashed out at the second ifrit, slashing a cut across their face. They cried out, falling back, trying to get some distance away from him. It was no competition, having to chase his prey through the streets, he thought, as he watched them run off. No, he needed a better opponent.

Stalking through the streets, he found in disappointment that it was mainly quiet at that time. However, he supposed that around the taverns would be the best places to look. Waiting in an alleyway next to one he knew, he listened carefully, waiting for footsteps. It did not take long, before he heard two sets. They sounded graceful – faeries, he assumed. Once they came around the corner, he narrowed his eyes, watching them. One had a thin sword at her side, and the other male faerie had a bow and a quiver of arrows. The insignia on the blade was easy to pick – they were Seelie. "Even better," he muttered, taking a defensive stance as they watched.

"We have no quarrel with you," the girl cautioned, looking a little on edge as she rested a hand against the hilt of her sword. "Or the Hunt."

"Shame. Because I have a quarrel with you," he spat back, before launching forward towards her. The boy he ignored for now, knowing he would still need to draw and arm his bow. She moved to draw her sword, and he tried to beat her to it, however she was fast, managing to start to draw it, although he grabbed her wrist. Hissing, they fought over it, and he wrenched her hand to the side, causing her to drop it. He swiped at her with his dagger, and she sidestepped it. Lashing out again, she caught his arm, trying to stop him from lowering the dagger any further. They were both strong, and they struggled for a moment. Hearing the sound of an arrow whiz through the air, he moved to the side, pushing her with him. His hand bashed against the wall, causing the dagger to slip from his grip. They ended up both tumbling to the ground, fighting for purchase. "Hunt scum," she hissed, a flash of annoyance in her gaze when he pulled at her hair to roughly stop her from grabbing the dagger. She flung her hand out, her nails scraping against his cheek.

"If you keep going, I will aim for you," the boy called out, a warning in his tone.

Caspian ignored the warning, his heart beating fast as the adrenaline ran through his veins. They were trained, so at least it was a good fight, even if they were not used to such a messy one. Getting hold of the dagger, he slashed out at the side of her arm, hearing her cry out. Taking the advantage he had, he shifted so that he was over her, holding the dagger tip to her chest. Before he could press it down too far however, an arrow sunk in just below his shoulder, and she managed to push him off when he flinched in surprise. She crawled away, getting to her feet quickly, and regaining her sword. Pointing it towards him, she watched him, her faerie partner moving over closer as well, with another arrow pointed at him.

His shoulder ached, and he held a hand to it, the blood starting to drip down his arm. "Come on then," he hissed. "We're not finished yet."

The Seelie girl narrowed her eyes. "Yes, I think we are," she said, coldly, keeping an eye on him as she inched past cautiously. They then quickly left, retreating down the other side of the alleyway.

Coughing, he winced as he adjusted his position, sitting up carefully against the alley wall. How low he had sunk since his Unseelie days. They had not even finished the fight. There was a metallic taste in his mouth, likely from the scratch nearby, and he tilted his head back, a low humourless laugh under his breath. If the shot had landed in a different place, then he'd already be dead. Unfortunate, in some ways, that it hadn't.

Looking down at the wound, he inhaled sharply, unsure of what it might have pierced, the head of the arrowhead having gone through to the other side. It was bleeding at a decent rate, but that was no surprise. Reaching for the shaft of the arrow, he gritted his teeth, trying to hold it steady as he rose to his feet. His cloak was soaked with blood now, and he felt a dizziness rising to his head. He couldn't break the arrow shaft off himself, unable to raise that arm to hold it steady. There was only one way to get it out. He kept hold of the shaft, crying out in pain as he pushed it through the wound, before grabbing it from behind and managing to yank it out, discarding it on the ground. The pain was enough to turn his vision black for a brief moment, before he recovered. Ripping his cloak off, he held it to the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. Swearing under his breath, he leaned against the wall, trying to keep himself upright. He could hardly move that arm, and the bleeding would only increase if he dared to try.

He was not close enough to the gate to the Hunt to be able to easily go through. In his state of delirium, he wasn't sure whether it would be better if he stayed and bled out, or he tried to make it back. Maybe he wouldn't have a choice. Sinking back to the ground, he tried to press his cloak harder. It was little use however, when his vision went again, plunging him into darkness.

~~ Savannah ~~

Savannah couldn't help but still be annoyed about the night she'd gone to Blake's house. She wasn't used to being turned down. Of course, he had turned her down the past, but that had been when he was more stubborn back then, and things had changed now. Getting dressed into one of her short nightgowns, she walked over to her mirror, running a brush through her hair and staring at herself in the mirror. Did he not want it? Had she not tempted him as much as in the past? She was not sure of the answer, and 'restraint' was not a word that she was familiar with. Why would one restrain themselves if they really wanted it? Lowering the brush, she ran some fingers slowly through her hair instead, her hand then lowering to her neck. It continued down to trace a couple of runes, below the neckline of her dress, watching her expression in the mirror.

He had not restrained himself from kissing her, which was the only consolation. But he had even implied that she should leave afterwards. She wasn't sure why she was so worked up about it. There were plenty of others in the Towns who would love her company, after all. She should forget about him and focus on other pursuits. But Blake was a little like a thorn in her side, and she could not bring herself to remove him just yet.

Shaking her head, she lowered her hand. Her Shadowhunter boyfriend had been messaging with her and trying to catch up with her for days, and she owed him a visit, even if it was reluctant. She needed to keep him appeased for now. Sighing, she moved to her bed, deciding to spend the night in her room that evening, not going out anywhere else.

Laying down, she contemplated over it for a moment longer. Surely Blake still found her attractive. However, she did not know why that did not feel like enough.