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Chapter Text

"Alec!" The voice of my father startled me. What was he doing here? Shouldn't he be in Idris? I pondered to myself. However, what surprised me the most was the palpable fear evident in his tone when he called out, "Alec!"

"Over here, father," I called out to him, making my way toward where he stood, surrounded by a group of Shadowhunters.

"Alec... what happened?" Dad asked, pointing at the motionless body of Camille in my arms.

His astonishment mirrored that of the other Nephilim, whose eyes were fixed on me with a blend of respect and wonder. They likely knew of Camille's reputation.

"She attempted to escape," I explained. "So, I fought her and knocked her out. We still need information from her."

"Well done, son!" My father praised me.

I couldn't decide which aspect surprised me more: my father speaking to me, his praise, the absence of disdainful looks from the other Shadowhunters, or the fact that dad still considered me his son.

"It was nothing," I replied, shifting uncomfortably. I never enjoyed being the center of attention and being scrutinized by twenty Nephilim made me feel exposed.

"You defeated one of the most powerful and famous vampires of this era. You knocked her out when it would have been easier to kill her, but you did it thinking about the Clave and its mission. And you even had time to slay demons along the way!" A Shadowhunter I recognized from previous Clave meetings exclaimed. If memory served me right, he was quite prominent in our society, his words carrying weight with the rest of the Nephilim. "If that is nothing, then kid, I'll tell you that we've been doing something wrong all this time." I blushed at his words, feeling embarrassed by all the attention and praise. "Well done, Robert," Mr. Rosewood clapped my father's back. "You've raised your son well."

"No," Dad replied, shaking his head. "He grew up on his own, right when I wasn't watching." My eyes widened at my father's unexpected admission.

Ever since the moment I shared a kiss with Magnus in the middle of the Accords Hall, he had been giving me the cold shoulder and hurling hateful words my way. Now, however, his gaze bore a newfound pride, and the warmth in his tone as he spoke about me was a stark contrast to the previous animosity.

"Let me take that from you," a Shadowhunter offered, reaching for Camille's lifeless body in my arms. "Shit! How were you able to carry her around with that wound?"

"What wound?" I inquired, puzzled by her question. I felt perfectly fine. She must have been mistaken; there was no way I was injured. Or was there? I mused internally as a wave of dizziness washed over me. Glancing down, I discovered my chest was bleeding profusely. I had forgotten about the deep cut Camille inflicted with her claws. "I might need an iratze," I declared aloud, settling onto a piece of broken wall nearby. Grateful that I hadn't stumbled or fainted yet.

"You'll need more than an iratze for that," my father remarked.

Though his tone remained professional and distant, I could discern the worry in his eyes. I always could, even from my childhood days. That's why I never harbored resentment towards him, unlike Jace, Izzy, or Max, who often took offense at his seemingly indifferent demeanor. I understood that he struggled to express his feelings for those he cared about.

"I will heal him," declared my favorite voice in the world. As I gazed up from the floor, my blue eyes locked onto the feline golden orbs of my boyfriend. "What the hell did that bitch do to you?" Magnus muttered under his breath as he started treating my wound with his magic.

His beautiful eyes betrayed a mix of anger and concern, and I couldn't help but loathe myself for causing him such pain. Especially after the unresolved tension between us before he set out to find Camille and me in the midst of battling demons. Camille's words lingered in my mind, the allure of finding out the secrets of my boyfriend's past still tempting me. Camille’s sweet words were like poison.

Yet, I couldn't bring myself to betray him, not after all the sacrifices he had made for my family and I. Magnus had rescued my friend, safeguarded my family, and saved my life countless times. His magic had been a constant shield, freely given without any expectation of repayment. He did it out of love, a sentiment reciprocated with equal fervor. That's precisely why I couldn't entertain the thought of clandestinely meeting with his ex. Particularly when she was notorious for manipulating situations to her advantage, leaving her allies empty-handed.

"What's troubling you?" Magnus inquired, gently caressing my cheek. I had been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't realized he had finished healing my wound. "Alec?" He called out to me, concern etched on his face. "What's wrong?"

You don't deserve him! He knows that, that's why he told you nothing about his past! Camille's parting words echoed in my mind.

Summoning the courage I needed, I met Magnus's gaze, the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. "I'm fine. I... I think the blood loss left me a bit unfocused and dizzy."

The ruse worked like a charm. Soon, everyone, especially Magnus and my father, expressed genuine concern for my well-being. Thankfully, some astute Nephilim summoned the Silent Brothers to provide assistance.

Maybe Camille was right. Maybe I wasn't good enough. Perhaps I was just one of Magnus's many lovers, not someone special to him. Maybe that's why he kept his past guarded. Maybe I could have gotten more from Camille. However, dwelling on the past was futile. I resolved to continue loving Magnus as deeply as ever and cherish our relationship. For while it might be just another chapter in Magnus's life, for me, it was my entire world. I vowed to do everything in my power to keep him by my side until the end, even if one day he found someone new.

Chapter Text

"You better lay down right now, Alexander Gideon Lightwood!" I sternly demanded of my boyfriend.

We had only recently returned from Idris, following a challenging and frustrating discussion with his parents, I managed to convince them to allow Alec to stay with me.

As if they were a more suitable choice than me, the magnificent High Warlock of Brookline, if my sweet pea ever required assistance. I scoffed at the thought. The arrogance of those Nephilim was astounding. Of course, Alec was not like that. He had proven himself worthy of the respect of both Shadowhunters and Downworlders on numerous occasions. With the most golden heart and purest soul I had ever encountered, Alec stood apart from the rest, and I, having been around for quite some time, knew this well.

"But Mags! I've been cooped up in bed for two whole days, and it's been driving me crazy," he complained. "I'm already healed. Also, it wasn't that big of a deal," he added nonchalantly.

I froze at those words. "The injury was nothing?!" I cut him off angrily. "Camille almost ripped you apart! Her claws went so deep that she tore some of your internal tissue!" My voice rose to high notes I didn't know I was capable of reaching. "You had a concussion, and you almost bled to death!" I shuddered in fear at the vivid memory.

I knew that one day I would have to say goodbye to Alexander. That one day he would meet his end. But I wanted that day to be in the distant future, not so soon and certainly not by the hands of one of my exes. The mere thought sent a shiver down my spine.

"Magnus..." I heard Alec murmur softly. "I didn't know you felt like that," he said and sighed resignedly. "Okay. If it makes you feel better, I'll stay in bed until you say it's fine to leave or until my family needs my help."

"With our luck, that could be at any moment," I joked, relieved by my boyfriend's words.

I couldn't help but smile with joy when Alec threw his head back, exposing the beautiful soft and pale skin of his neck, and let out a hearty laugh. It was the kind of laughter that illuminated the whole world and brought light into my life—the kind of light I thought I had lost after so many years of existence, after believing that my heart had frozen completely.

"Get in here, Mags," he said, patting the space next to him. "We need to finish the Merlin marathon."

My smile widened even further at that. I had been introducing Alexander to pop culture, from music and TV to idols, clothing, and colloquial expressions. So far, I had successfully exposed him to bands and singers from the last decade, and he even knew the lyrics to some songs. Additionally, he had started to enjoy TV shows and movies. Currently, we are in the midst of a Merlin marathon, our first binge-watch together. With only five chapters left in the fourth season, we were about to conclude the series.

"As you wish, sweet pea," I responded, sliding under the covers, and snuggling beside my boyfriend. I cherished the warmth and security he provided. Alec wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I allowed him to guide me, sighing happily as I used his chest as a pillow. With a snap of my fingers, the show began playing on the plasma TV in my room, and a bowl of popcorn materialized on my lap. "What?" I asked Alec when he looked at me with an amused expression. "You can't have a marathon without popcorn... or would you prefer ice cream?"

"Popcorn is perfect," he assured me, and I melted when he sweetly kissed my temple. The comfort of the moment enveloped us as we settled in for the remaining episodes of our Merlin marathon, reveling in the simple joy of shared laughter and companionship.

In that moment, a sense of reassurance enveloped me. Both of us lay in bed, adorned in our pajamas, engrossed in a mundane TV show, and munching on popcorn, all the while wrapped in each other's arms. It felt normal—a stark contrast to the upheaval Alec had experienced since encountering Camille, particularly when he thwarted her escape just one week ago. Ever since that incident, his behavior had been different from his usual demeanor, and it concerned me.

What if Camille had said something? Perhaps it was related to my past... what if Alec discovered something about me that he didn't approve of? The mere notion terrified me to the core. Alexander was my entire world, and the thought of losing him was enough to shatter me. I was certain that the pain of such a loss would be insurmountable, regardless of the years that lay ahead of me.

So, I cherished moments like these immensely—moments when we transcended our roles as a shadowhunter and a warlock and simply became AlecandMagnus. However, the joy of this respite proved to be short-lived. The final chapter of the show drew to a close, depicting Merlin growing old as his friends succumbed to the passage of time. Alec's posture stiffened noticeably.

"Are you okay, sweet pea?" I questioned him, my worry evident. "Does your wound bother you?"

"No," he answered curtly. "I'm just... tired. I am tired. I'll go to sleep now. Good night, Magnus." He pressed a brief but sincere kiss on my lips.

It was short, yet it carried a profound honesty and a wealth of love that, had I been standing, would have undoubtedly turned my knees to jelly. Before I could utter a word, Alec turned around, his back facing me, and retreated into slumber. Unsure of what to do, I cautiously left the bed, ensuring not to disturb his rest, and quietly exited the room. In the solitude of the living room, I reached for my phone and dialed my old friend Catarina.

"Yes, Magnus. I hope you have a really good reason to call me so late at night," she responded, her tone laced with annoyance.

"I don't know what's wrong with Alec," I complained to her. The words spilled out so quickly that I wasn't sure if she had grasped them, but her response assured me that she had.

"Alexander? That Nephilim of yours?" I reveled in the possessive reference, satisfying my demon side—a dark part of me that was inherently possessive and greedy. "I thought things couldn't be better. You don't stop talking about him whenever we meet... is this a medical question? Perhaps about the wound Camille inflicted on him?"

"How do you know about it?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

"One of the most powerful vampires in the world being defeated by an eighteen-year-old gay Shadowhunter, dating the High Warlock of Brookline," she deadpanned. "News like that travels fast in our society. But we're getting off the point! What's wrong with your boyfriend?"

"I don't know. Everything was fine, more than fine, especially during our world trip. But then Camille appeared and ruined everything!" I huffed, frustration evident in my voice.

"We both know Camille, especially you. We're aware of how manipulative and sneaky she can be. Maybe she told Alexander something that made him feel insecure or bad," Catarina suggested. "Have you thought about that?"

"No, I didn't. What do I do now? I hate seeing Alec so sad!" I almost pleaded.

"You really love him," she commented softly. "Talk to him," she finally said after a brief silence. "That's the only way to know what is truly wrong with him."

"Easier said than done," I replied, but she had already ended the call. "Damn it!" I cursed under my breath. "Wish me luck, Chairman Meow."

Chapter Text

Finally! If I spent one more day in bed, I would have started throwing things around, mostly Magnus's stuff. I appreciated the way he took care of me, eagerly catering to every whim I had. It made me feel loved and momentarily pushed away any fear that Camille had instilled in me. The turmoil of losing my parabatai and being unable to take any action had been driving me mad. It was especially frustrating to be confined to rest in bed while Jace could be enduring torture at the hands of Sebastian, in who knows what sinister location.

Yet, I understood that the Institute couldn't aid my brother, but Magnus could. So, I remained in my boyfriend's apartment without uttering a word of complaint, joining him in the relentless search for any clues that might lead us to Jace. Eventually, we did uncover something significant, and together with Izzy and the vampire, we summoned Raziel for help. However, Magnus and my little sister always kept a watchful eye on me, fearing that my wound might reopen. They were hesitant to allow me to participate in the mission to rescue Jace, but it was something I would never allow to happen. Their overprotectiveness led to a heated argument with Magnus.

Which reminds me that I still haven't cleared things up with him. I halted in my steps and sighed at that thought. Well, at least I had a reason to finally be alone after so much time of having a babysitter—especially on this date, the one day I wanted to be completely alone.

"That was quite the deep breath, big boy," a hoarse voice commented behind me. Of course, the Universe wasn't on my side lately. I cursed silently in my head. "But I can't speak," she continued. It was almost as if she was talking to herself. "Today isn't one of my best days, either."

"We can mourn together, then," I replied sarcastically.

"Also, in the meanwhile, we can invite Thanatos and have a chat with him," she suggested in a dark tone.

"Nice one," I chuckled humorlessly.

Turning around, I found myself face to face with one of the most beautiful girls I had ever met, if not the most. She was tall, though not taller than me, with emerald-green eyes, lightly tanned skin, and waist-long brown, almost blond, straight hair, braided and adorned with plastic flowers. Yet, it wasn't just her beauty that captivated me. It was the sense of familiarity emanating from her. By the way she continued to gaze at me, with that mixture of surprise and curiosity, I could tell she felt it too.

"Do I know you?" She asked after a moment of silent mutual contemplation. "Because I can swear, I met you before. There's something about your..."

"... eyes?" I finished her sentence. I smiled with relief when she nodded in agreement. Suddenly, an idea struck me. "Did you lose your older brother this date four years ago?" I asked slowly, cautious about the possibility of being wrong.

"How did you... Xander? Is that you?" I nodded, and in no time, my arms were full of an eighteen-year-old mundane. "I missed you so much, big boy."

"I missed you too, Katherine," I murmured back, returning the tight hug. "What are you doing here? I thought your parents moved you to Barcelona after... after Marcelo was killed."

"We did, but I wanted to return to my hometown... it makes me feel closer to my brother," she explained with a sad smile, her arms still around my neck. "That's why I decided to enroll in Parson."

"Parson?" I asked her, confused.

"One of the best fashion schools in the US. You really don't know anything about it?" Katherine sounded amused, as she always did when I was clueless about mundane stuff. "I'm in the fashion design program."

"Good. I always knew how much you love fashion," I said, happy to know that at least the life of someone I cared about was going fine. "Would you like to have a drink with me? We need to catch up on a lot of stuff."

As we entered the familiar coffee shop Marcelo, Kitten, and I used to always go to when we were kids, memories flooded back, and we found a cozy corner to sit and catch up on our lives. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee surrounded us as we delved into the past and shared stories of the years we spent apart. As the conversation flowed, I realized how much I had missed my sister and how comforting it was to have a piece of my past back in my life. The atmosphere was comfortable, and I felt grateful to have someone like her by my side, offering support and understanding without judgment.

"Estaba esperando que me lo preguntaras," she answered in a flirty way.

Normally, such flirtatious behavior would make me blush and feel nervous, but flirting was always our own little game, even if she did the majority of it. "Es bueno saber que sigues siendo la misma de siempre," I told her in Spanish.

As a shadowhunter, I had to learn many languages. However, unlike my siblings, I focused on them more. While they spent the whole day honing their killing skills, I trained my language ability, political skills, and deepened my knowledge in demonology and downworlders. This focus saved our lives on numerous occasions and helped me dispatch demons faster and more effectively. It also earned the esteem of the Clave, to the extent that I believe it was the only reason they didn't strip me of my runes when I came out of the closet.

"You seem different," she commented. "Free. As if... did you finally tell your parents about you being gay?"

"I did. Well, to be precise, I kissed my boyfriend in front of my whole family and my society," I explained.

She threw her head back and laughed wholeheartedly. "You are a bag full of surprises, Alexander Lightwood," she remarked amused, before turning serious. "But I know you are hiding something. Something is eating you up, bothering you a lot. What is it?"

"My relationship with my boyfriend. We... I am having problems coping with some stuff," I confessed. She didn't talk or pressure me to speak; she just waited for me to do it on my own. That's one of the things I loved the most about her – she always found a way for me to feel comfortable, a challenging task given that I got flustered by almost anything. "An ex of his came and told me about his past. How I look so similar to one of his other exes and that Mags had a lot of lovers before me. She made me feel that I mean nothing to Magnus... that he only loves me now, and when I am gone, he will forget about me and keep on going with his life as if I was never in it."

"So, this Magnus guy is your boyfriend?" I nodded to answer her question, my gaze not leaving my worn shoes. "And he used to date a woman?"

"He is bisexual," I clarified.

"Ok. Cool."

"'Ok. Cool'? That's all you've got to say?!" I exclaimed, surprised and a bit angry. "This problem is killing me, and the only thing you have to say is: 'Ok. Cool'? Because I can tell you that things aren't 'Ok'!"

"Are you finished?" Katherine asked me with an amused smile.

The glint in her eyes made it clear that she had orchestrated this. She wanted me to react this way, to vent my anger on her so that I would feel better.

"Yeah. I am finished. Thank you," I told her with an apologetic smile.

"You're welcome. Now, the problem isn't this girl or Magnus. The problem is that you are insecure about yourself," she said. "Let me guess, this guy is eccentric and loves to draw attention, especially with his way of dressing."

"Yes, he does. How did you know about that?" I questioned her, confused.

"Only a person like that can make you feel so insecure about yourself. From what you told me, it seems the same happens when you're with your siblings. But whenever you're with me or Marcelo, it never happens."

"That's because even though you dress nicely, your style is sweet and cute. Full of flowers, simple colors, and embroidery..."

"Don't forget the hat," she cut me off with a cheeky smile, wrapping her arms around my right arm.

I smiled down at her, aware of her penchant for messing around with people. She enjoyed making others believe we were a couple, only to later claim, 'What? Together?! No! We are just friends. He is gay,' and then leave, laughing at the embarrassed expressions of those poor souls.

"And the hats," I corrected myself. "You draw attention when you walk, not because you want to or because you think you deserve it, but because with each step, you show everyone that you are sure of yourself and love every part, even if it's good or bad. Magnus, Izzy, and Jace march as if the world belongs to them and as if they are perfect," I sighed, annoyed at their behavior.

"But you love them, anyway," she replied.

"That I do, even if sometimes I question my sanity for it," I joked, causing her to laugh again.

"As I was saying, you need to gain confidence. If Magnus's eccentricity makes you feel too normal and small, it's time for a change. Let me give you a new look. Don't worry! I won't put you in bright colors or make you wear makeup," she added quickly, noticing my scared expression. "But I'll get you knew sweaters that aren't faded, t-shirts without ketchup marks, and jeans without holes," she said, and I blushed, feeling embarrassed at her words. "Maybe adding some dress shirts, a couple of pairs of pants, and a few new jackets won't hurt anyone either," she continued, and I smiled at her antics. "And as for him not opening up, ask him. Ask him for information and give him time to muster the courage to tell you. You're not the only one who has problems speaking about your feelings."

"You are the best, Kitten," I told her. "How can you be so intelligent and young at the same time?"

"The same way you do it, Xander," she replied. "Now, let's go shopping!"

We ventured into the bustling city, the streets alive with people going about their day. Kitten led the way to some of her favorite shops, expertly selecting outfits that would complement my style without going overboard. She knew how to strike the balance between maintaining my authenticity and introducing a refreshing change. As we explored the various stores, she offered fashion tips, pointing out colors that would suit me and suggesting accessories that could enhance the overall look. Kitten's keen eye for fashion made the process enjoyable, and I found myself becoming more open to the idea of embracing a new style.

After a successful shopping spree, we sat down at another cozy cafe to unwind. With bags full of new clothes, I felt a renewed sense of confidence and gratitude for Kitten's guidance. We sipped our coffees, engaging in lighthearted banter as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee surrounded us.

"Now, for the Magnus situation," she said, shifting the conversation back to the heart of the matter. "You've got to communicate, Xander. Relationships thrive on open communication. Don't be afraid to express your feelings and concerns. Let him know you're there for him, just as he's been there for you."

As we chatted further, I couldn't help but reflect on the day's events. Kitten's presence had a calming effect on me, and her advice was a saving grace. With a newfound sense of self-assurance and a refreshed wardrobe, I felt ready to face the challenges ahead, both in my relationship with Magnus and in navigating the complexities of my own insecurities.

Chapter Text

"I can't believe you convinced me to do this!" My best friend since childhood complained.

"Stop whining and start acting like a man!" I snapped back with no heat, handing him a pair of marine blue jeans and pushing him towards the dressing room.

We found ourselves in the Calvin Klein shop at Macy's, where I happened to work. However, before venturing here, we explored a few other stores. Aware of Xander's cluelessness and discomfort with fashion, I started with something small.

Our shopping expedition commenced with shoes. We acquired two pairs of New Balance sneakers: one in grey with blue accents and the other entirely black, except for the striking red N. Wanting to upgrade his military boots, which were looking worse for wear, I couldn't resist when I stumbled upon two fantastic styles. Convincing Xander to buy both was a bit of a challenge, but he insisted on them being black.

"He already has too much color in his wardrobe," he had claimed.

Can you believe it? Fortunately, when we entered the next shop, I managed to convince him to purchase a stylish brown pair of dress shoes, even if the other one remained black. As we explored the clothing section of Calvin Klein, I continued my mission to revamp Xander's wardrobe. I handed him a variety of shirts, ranging from classic button-downs to casual tees. It was clear that my friend was uncomfortable with the process, but I was determined to bring him into the world of fashion.

"Come on, Xander, try on this crisp white shirt. It'll make you look sophisticated," I urged, holding out the shirt for his inspection. Despite his initial reluctance, he eventually relented and entered the dressing room.

While he tried on different outfits, I couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. It was not just about changing his wardrobe; it was about helping him embrace a newfound confidence. Xander emerged from the dressing room in the marine blue jeans, looking surprisingly pleased with the result.

"See? Not so bad, right?" I grinned, patting him on the back.

He nodded, a hesitant smile playing on his lips. I knew there was still a long way to go, but this was a promising start. We continued our shopping spree, exploring different styles and experimenting with various clothing options. As we left Calvin Klein with bags full of new additions to his wardrobe, little by little, we were turning Xander into a fashion-forward individual, and I was determined to see the journey through.

At the Armani store, I persuaded Xander to try on a suit. Originally, I had planned on saving this for the end, considering how uncomfortable he typically felt in them. However, given that we were already there, and Armani offered exceptional suits, the temptation proved too strong to resist. Especially, when I know how big Xander’s bank account is.

Old money white boys are so lucky!

Despite my enthusiasm, I decided to tread lightly and not overwhelm my best friend. I understood the importance of personal style in expressing one's identity, and I didn't want to impose my choices on Xander. In the end, we settled on a simple black suit, complemented by a black vest, a crisp white shirt, and a black tie. While I had envisioned a blue tie, Xander insisted on black, and I respected his preference.

Following the suit fitting, we ventured to acquire the finishing touches for his newfound wardrobe. We secured the last black sports watch from Adidas and a sleek black watch from Omega. To add a touch of style, we also picked out a pair of black sunglasses from Ray-Ban. Reflecting on our purchases, I couldn't help but ponder the need to expand Xander's wardrobe further. Six pairs of shoes, a suit, two watches, and a pair of sunglasses were a good start, but there was still room for exploration and experimentation.

"Xander," I began, contemplating how to broach the subject delicately, "what do you think about incorporating more variety into your wardrobe? Maybe some colored shirts or different styles of jeans?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Sure, Kitten. I'm open to trying new things. Just guide me through it."

Excitement bubbled within me at the prospect of unleashing Xander's untapped fashion potential. As we continued our shopping spree, I envisioned introducing him to a world of styles and colors that would not only enhance his appearance but also boost his confidence in expressing himself through fashion. I meticulously ensured that Xander had an ample supply of sweaters, all from Tommy, encouraging him to part ways with the worn-out, hole-ridden ones that had seen better days.

My mission continued with the acquisition of hoodies, V-neck t-shirt, vests, three leather jackets, and a selection of plain shirts that, to my satisfaction, fit him perfectly, accentuating his well-defined physique. Not to mention, they were colored t-shirts! Red, blue, grey, I even got him to pick up a deep purple one!

In addition, we explored sportswear from Adidas, and to my surprise, Xander had no complaints about this particular choice. It was a welcome change. Our current destination was Calvin Klein, where we focused on securing a range of new jeans to highlight Xander's legs and ass. Thus far, I successfully convinced him to opt for two black pairs, one in grey, and another in traditional blue denim.

This shopping expedition served a dual purpose—it not only aided Xander in building confidence through his evolving wardrobe but also provided me with a respite from the weight of the memories of my brother's passing.

Interrupting my thoughts, Xander's question snapped me back to reality. As I looked up, I couldn't help but stare, completely enthralled. "What?" Xander asked, a hint of self-consciousness evident. "Do I look bad?"

"Bad? Big boy, right now, I'm wishing you were single, straight, and that I didn't consider you like a brother," I exclaimed, unable to tear my eyes away, even as he blushed a deep red. "You look hot! We're definitely taking those. Come on, next stop: pajamas."

"I don't wear pajamas, you already know that," he said, puzzled.

"I know. Come on, Ralph Lauren’s new collection just came in,” I informed him, sporting an evil smirk. Despite enjoying the occasional tease, I sensed his discomfort and decided to ease up. "Relax. I won't ask you to model for me. Just tell me your size and where you usually buy them, and I'll pick some for you."

"Thank you, Kitten," he replied. "You're the best."

"Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I didn't already know," I quipped, savoring our unique friendship.

After gathering the necessary information from the shop assistant, I proceeded to select an assortment of boxers and socks for my best friend. With our chosen items in tow, we made our way to the cashier to settle the bill. Fortunately, we enjoyed a discount at every store we visited today, courtesy of my shopping card and my employment at Macy’s.

As we indulged in frozen yogurt, Xander asked about our next destination. "Where to now?"

"Is that excitement I hear in your voice, Xander?" I teased.

"Never!" Xander exclaimed, feigning nonchalance. "I'm just enjoying my time with an old friend."

"Just old?" I responded, pretending to be wounded by his words.

"My oldest and best friend," he amended with a roll of his eyes. "Better?"

"Much better," I replied with a cheeky smile. "Now, head to your house, launder this new wardrobe, donate all your old clothes, and dress up nicely. You'll impress your boyfriend," I ordered. "Wear those new black jeans, the military boots, the white V-neck t-shirt, and the leather jacket, along with the Adidas watch. That'll be a nice touch."

Concern etched his features as he asked, "What about you?"

"Don't worry about it," I reassured him, appreciating his consideration. "I'll visit Marcelo's grave. It's time I did that."

"Then I'll go with you," he declared. "Just let me complete all the tasks you've assigned, and I'll be ready."

"What about Magnus?" I inquired.

"I'll see him tonight. Maybe I'll bring food from that Chinese place he likes so much and stay the night," he explained. "But you're my best friend, Kitten. You need my help. Besides, I have to pay my respects to Marcelo too."

"You are the best, Xander," I expressed my gratitude before pulling him into a heartfelt bear hug.

"No, Kitten. You are," he replied, reciprocating the sentiment.

Chapter Text

"Who dares to disturb the High Warlock of Brookline? If it's not a matter of life or death, I will snap you to the deserts of Egypt!" I threatened through the speaker, my frustration evident in my voice.

In truth, my mood was far from pleasant. I had an argument with my sweet pea before the rescue mission for the angelic boy, and afterwards my boyfriend vanished for the entire day before we could reconcile.

"If you're busy, I could come back later?" Came the beautiful voice of my boyfriend through the speaker.

"Alexander?! Why don't you use your key to come in?" I asked, a mix of confusion and excitement coursing through me.

His presence meant that he wasn't angry anymore. I couldn't help but let my thoughts wander greedily, anticipating a night of intimacy and cuddles.

"You never gave me the keys to your loft," he replied, his tone amused, likely in response to my antics.

I snapped my fingers and declared, "Problem resolved! Check your right pocket."

Soon, I heard a door opening and footsteps approaching from the stairs. Eagerly, I marched towards the door, opening it to welcome my love. However, my words halted mid-sentence as I took in the sight of my boyfriend's attire. He sported a new pair of black jeans, fresh black military boots, a pristine white V-neck t-shirt, and a leather jacket I hadn't seen in his wardrobe before, topped off with the latest Adidas sport watch.

"Sweet Lilith!" I muttered under my breath, unable to tear my gaze away from the breathtaking creature before me.

"What? You don't like this new look?" Alec asked shyly, a light blush adorning his cheeks.

"Like it? Right now, I want you to throw me on the bed and fuck me silly." I deadpanned as I continued to stare.

"This feels like déjà vu," I thought I heard him mutter, but I didn't care. He then raised the boxes he was holding, flashing me a small smile that melted my heart. "Want to have dinner first? Your favorite place from the best Chinese restaurant, in the Bane's restaurant rating."

"I love you, sweet pea!" I exclaimed, smirking when his blush deepened.

"Stop calling me that!" Alec complained, yet still kissed me as he passed by to enter my loft.

The table was set with a snap of my fingers. Ah, the wonders of magic, I mused happily. "Where have you been all day, Alec?" I inquired after a while of eating in silence. "You had your siblings, parents, and me very worried. No one heard a thing about you today; it was like... you were gone." I grimaced at the thought. I couldn't fathom what I would do if he ever left me. "Also, your wound hasn't completely healed yet," I added seriously. "Which reminds me, when we finish eating, I will check on that."

"I was at Macy's," his answer surprised me.

"You what?!" I exclaimed, shocked. "You went to Macy's voluntarily? What possessed you to do that?"

"An old friend came to town and wanted to go there," he replied with a big smile and a distant look, as if reminiscing about something.

Probably the moments he spent with his friend, I thought, feeling a pang of jealousy.

The idea of someone else putting that kind of smile on my boyfriend's face, if it wasn't family, didn't sit well with me. Moreover, if that friend could persuade him to go to Macy's and change his look, something I couldn't do, they had to be very important to Alec.

Since when does he have friends I don't know about?! I complained internally. Damn it! I am starting to sound like those boyfriends who need to know everything about their partners. Now that I think about it... I know everything about Alec, except for this new friend of his. What if he is hiding something from me? I thought suspiciously.

Isn't that a bit hypocritical of you? A voice inside my head questioned me. After all, you are keeping Alec in the absolute dark about your past.

Shut up! I ordered it, and it, luckily, obeyed.

"Mags, are you okay?" The worried voice of my boyfriend brought me back from my trance.

"Of course, I am, sweet pea," I answered with my typical Cheshire grin, though this time it was a bit forced. "Why do you ask?"

"Cause you went mute and stopped eating all of a sudden," he replied with an inquisitive look, indicating that he didn't buy my act.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then thought about it again and decided not to ask. With a small sigh, I returned to my food and changed the topic. I told him about how angry some customer, who I had already forgotten the name of, made me today and how I ended up turning his hair pink in response. We both laughed at the story, momentarily forgetting our worries.

Later, when we finished the food, I snapped my fingers, cleaning the plates and putting them in their places, so Alec could make my wish come true. I had a long list of past lovers, but none of them knew how to make me beg like my angel did. Maybe it was because when he ties me up to the bed, he doesn't relish overpowering the High Warlock of Brookline, but instead, revels in the trust I place in him. Perhaps it was the way he worshipped me with every touch, every kiss, every word, and every look.

I didn't care about the reason anymore; I just knew that no one would ever make me forget about this blue-eyed prince or make me fall in love as hard as he did. My heart was stolen by this young Shadowhunter thief.

"I love you, Mags," murmured my boyfriend softly, before tucking me into his side and drifting off to sleep.

"I love you too, Alexander," I replied, kissing his bare chest, before being lulled to sleep by the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat.

Chapter Text

I still vividly recall the panic that surged through me when Isabelle informed me, she didn't know where Alec was.

"What do you mean by 'you lost Alec'?" I exclaimed, my voice almost a shout. The last thing I needed was to endure the agony of losing another son. "You both disobeyed the Clave, deciding to go hunting, and on top of it all, you lost your brother!"

"He was behind me the whole time. I just lost sight of him for a few minutes, and he disappeared," she replied through clenched teeth. Her anger at me was evident, but that wasn't anything new, so it didn't surprise me.

Normally, I would feel a pang of pain in my chest due to how my own daughter behaved toward me. However, right now, I was panicking. My son was lost and probably dead, possibly thinking that I hated him for his sexuality.

"Alec!" The tone of my voice surprised even me. Fear was evident in its every syllable. "Alec!"

"Over here, Father." When he called out for me, I relaxed a bit, but only sighed in relief when I saw him walking toward where I stood, with a group of Shadowhunters behind me.

"Alec, what happened?" I asked, pointing to the unmoving body of Camille in his arms.

I wasn't the only one astonished by this; the rest of the Nephilim were looking at my son with gazes full of respect and wonder. I couldn't stop the pride I felt at that moment in having him as my son, not that I wanted to.

"She tried to escape," he explained. "So, I fought against her and knocked her out. We still need information from her."

"Well done, son!" I praised him, meaning every word.

When I saw his surprised look, I knew that I needed to start doing that more frequently. I couldn't bear knowing that my children hated me, and that I had caused it to happen.

"It was nothing," he replied, shifting on his feet.

"You defeated one of the most powerful and famous vampires of this era. You knocked her out when it would have been easier to kill her, but you did it thinking about the Clave and its mission. And you even had time to slay demons along the way!" Rosewood exclaimed. Alec blushed at his words. "If that is nothing, then kid, I'll tell you that we've been doing something wrong all this time." Alec blushed at his words. "Well done, Robert." Derek Rosewood clapped my back in a friendly gesture. "You raised your son very well."

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "He grew up on his own, right when I was not watching."

I didn't care if I sounded soft; I could not hide my pride anymore. Not after having Derek point out everything that my son had achieved on his own tonight. And Derek was a very difficult person to amaze. But Alec had never been normal; he had always been extraordinary. At that moment, I decided to set things right, to make sure that I would not lose Alec as I lost Michael so long ago. I would stand up to the Clave, if necessary, but I would get my son back.

"Let me take that from you," a Shadowhunter told Alec, grabbing Camille's body from his arms. "Shit! How were you able to carry her around with that wound?"

"What wound?" My son asked the woman, looking confused. I examined his body and noticed that his chest was bleeding profusely. It appeared that Camille had cut him there with her claws. "I might need an iratze," he said, almost casually, before sitting on a piece of broken wall.

"You will need more than an iratze for that," I told him, trying not to reveal how much I was panicking through my tone of voice. I could almost see my son's internal organs, and that frightened me. The Silent Brothers must be called, I can't let Alec die.

As I was about to order someone to contact them, a very familiar voice announced, "I will heal him." When I turned around, I saw Magnus Bane, my son's boyfriend, speaking. I had always harbored some resentment towards their relationship. Part of that resentment stemmed from my difficulty in understanding how homosexual couples could make it work, not because I hated my son for his sexuality. However, most of it was because I felt that Bane was taking advantage of my son. After all, Alec was only eighteen, and the warlock was at least four hundred years. No father would appreciate their child having such an older lover. "What the hell did that bitch do to you?" Bane cursed under his breath as he began treating Alec's wound.

My disdain for their relationship lessened somewhat when I heard the pain and worry in the warlock's voice. I started to understand how Alec and Bane made it work when I noticed the way their eyes shone upon meeting each other's gaze. They sparkled with love, adoration, worship, and happiness. It was such a raw and intense feeling, so private, that I turned around, unable to continue looking.

In that moment, I could see what I hadn't before. I observed the way they interacted with each other, how Bane would go to great lengths for Alec and how my son behaved differently with the warlock. Alexander would move in sync with Bane, following him to the ends of the earth and back.

It made me feel jealous of my son, again. Not only was Alec a better politician than me and braver than me, but he had also found the love of his life at the age of eighteen. That thought sparked the perfect idea to earn my son's forgiveness.

Taking a deep breath and straightening my back, I pressed the button for Bane's loft, refusing to show any weakness in downworlder's territory. "Who dares to disturb the High Warlock of Brookline on his day off?!" Bane's voice resonated angrily. "This better be important because I am just about to go on a date with my angel!"

"This is Robert Lightwood, Inquisitor of the Clave and father of Alec," I announced myself. "I have important matters to discuss with you and my son."

I heard a door being unlocked, and someone hurried down the stairs. Soon, Alexander appeared behind the gates of the building. "Dad?" He asked, looking confused. "What are you doing here?"

I had rehearsed an answer to that question over the past few weeks, imagining how things would unfold when I finally broke the news to Alec. From the best-case scenario to the worst, my weeks of discussions with the Clave alongside Pia came to a halt when I got a better look at my son.

He was dressed in a black Armani suit, simple yet elegant—the kind of attire I would have never expected to find in Alec's wardrobe until he started dating Bane. Witnessing the transformation in my son during the time I had neglected him, acting as if he didn't exist, shattered my heart into pieces.

"You, Alexander, are a better man than I ever was or will be," the words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. Yet, I didn't regret uttering them. Alec's eyes widened in surprise, but he seemed pleased with the unexpected praise. "May I come in, son? I need to share some news with you and Bane."

"Of course, you can, Dad," he replied, opening the gates, and guiding me toward the loft of the warlock. The air was thick with anticipation as I prepared to reveal the news that could reshape the dynamics of our relationship.

At the top of the stairs, leaning against a door frame, stood Magnus Bane. He was clad in a purple suit, a golden vest, a white dressing shirt, and a black tie. The absence of his usual glittery extravagance surprised me, but it also brought a slight smile to my face.

Who would have thought that my son could rein in the beast? I thought amusingly. Surely, Bane had toned down his typical flamboyance for this date with my son.

"Mr. Lightwood, what a surprise," began the warlock in a neutral voice, though I could detect the underlying contempt.

"Magnus!" Alec hissed. "Be polite; he is my father." It warmed my heart and gave me a glimmer of hope to see my son defending me.

"Yeah, he might be by blood, but when he starts acting like one, I'll start treating him like your father," Bane retorted, and I winced at his words.

"Mag..." Alec began, but I cut him off.

"It's okay, Alec. Bane is right," I said, eliciting looks of shock from both of them before they composed themselves. "I haven't been acting like a father lately, and that's why I'm here. May I come in? So, I can explain what I've been doing?" Hesitantly, the warlock welcomed me into his loft, and we headed towards the living room. Alec and Magnus took their seats on the loveseats, and I settled into the armchair.

"Over the last few weeks, Jia and I have been working to get a new law accepted by the Clave. This morning, they finally agreed, and we signed the papers a few hours ago. The law states that same-sex couples can legally marry, be accepted by the Clave, and receive support. No more shadowhunters will have their runes stripped due to their sexuality or be shunned. However, these couples must have at least one child for each shadowhunter family to continue the bloodline. Today's technology allows us to achieve this," I explained, smiling at my son with an apologetic expression. "I am so sorry for the way I behaved towards you and the things I said. But you need to know that I never hated you; I was just afraid and didn't understand. I might not be entirely okay with you dating Bane, but I will support you. I hope this might be a start for me to earn your forgiveness."

"Dad... I forgave you a long time ago," Alec said, surprising me with his words. How could he possess such a generous heart? How could he extend forgiveness before I even asked for it? My shock didn't prevent me from returning the embrace when he stood up and hugged me. "Thank you."

"No, thank you," I murmured in response. "Now, I better get going and leave you to your date."

"I'll walk you to the door," Bane offered politely. When we were far enough away for Alec not to hear, he questioned me, "Is it because I am a downworlder?"

"It's because you are four hundred years old," I replied candidly. "I can see that you both love each other; even a blind man could notice that. But I can't shake the feeling that you might be taking advantage of him." We stopped walking when we reached the door. "Also, I know that you're not being completely honest with my son, which is really insulting. He came out of the closet and risked having his runes stripped, potentially losing everything he ever knew and loved. And you're not being honest with him. That's the least you could do! That's why I believe you don't deserve my son, Bane."

With those words, I left the loft, ignoring the astonished and pained look on the warlock's face, and headed to the Institute. I began planning my next steps to reclaim my family.

Chapter Text

"Your father did what?!" I exclaimed, utterly confused.

As I was closing the shop – today unfortunately was my turn – I received a call from Xander. He was so excited that he talked very fast, and while I couldn't comprehend every word, I grasped the general direction of the conversation. However, I must have misunderstood, as what I heard seemed like a miracle.

"Dad came last tonight, before Mags and I went to our date, and gave us his blessing," he repeated, this time slower.

"Wow... that is fantastic, Xander!" I told him happily. "By the way, where did he take you this time?" I asked him curiously.

Having returned to New York three months ago, Xander had been regaling me with stories about his relationship non-stop. Magnus always took my best friend to the most amazing, romantic, and expensive places in the city. I genuinely enjoyed listening to his experiences, maybe because I am very curious or because their dates are genuinely interesting. Luckily, my friend always indulged my curiosity.

"He took me to watch The Lion King on Broadway; he said it's a very famous play. In the end, it was quite good," I laughed a bit at his comment. Xander was always very picky when it came to music; if it wasn't the best, he wouldn't listen to it. Though, he also lacked a lot of pop culture. "After that, we had dinner at the Hilton hotel."

"I went there once with my family; they make really good food," I told him. "I tried their special salad; I really liked it. What did you order?"

"The steak," he answered and chuckled when I gagged. "Come on, Kitten! Cut me some slack. Not everyone can be a vegetarian like you."

"Well, you keep on killing innocent animals," I replied, acting very dramatically on purpose. "It's your soul that will suffer in the end."

"Ladies and gentlemen, that was Katherine Rosa Sangrienta for all of you, our favorite Drama Queen," he said in his best impression of a TV host, making me laugh. "I have to go now, Kitten. Mags is calling me to sleep."

"Go to your man, Xander," I told him before ending the call. He must surely be blushing, I thought with a smirk as I walked out of Macy's.

As I strolled through the bustling streets of New York, my mind replayed the conversation, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness for Xander and Magnus. Their relationship seemed to be blooming, and the fact that Xander's father had given his blessing brought a smile to my face.

"Argh!" The anguished cry of pain brought me back from my thoughts.

Following the voice to its origin, I discovered a boy lying on the ground at the end of an alley. He was applying pressure to the wound on his side, or at least the most he could manage in his situation. However, what alarmed me wasn't just the painful expression he wore, but the puddle of blood surrounding him.

"Oh, God!" I muttered under my breath, rushing to his side. I took off my scarf and wrapped it tightly around his body. "Stay awake!" I ordered him. "I will call 911 for help." As I reached for my phone, a hand stopped me. "What are you doing?" I asked the boy, confused. Didn't he want to live?

"Don't... hospital... no..." he babbled incoherently, but his message was clear.

If he didn't want to go to the hospital, I wouldn't take him. After all, who am I to disobey the last wish of an almost-dead guy? I thought with a defeated sigh. Gathering all my strength, I carried the guy towards my car, then drove home as fast as I could. Why do I always find myself in strange situations?

Not knowing what else to do, I practically carried the unconscious boy to my apartment and set him down on the couch. Panic rushed through me as I tried to remember everything, I'd learned from that random first aid course in Barcelona. Who would've thought that a random class during my travels would come in handy like this?

With a sense of urgency, I gathered makeshift medical supplies—bandages, antiseptic, and whatever else I could find. I fetched a bowl of water, dampened a cloth, and gently wiped away the blood from his face. His features relaxed as if the mere touch of water had some magical healing properties. It was then that I truly looked at him. He couldn't have been much older than me, and the vulnerability in his unconscious state made me wonder about the life he'd led.

His face was unfamiliar, and he seemed disoriented, making it challenging to communicate effectively. However, amidst the chaotic circumstances, a sense of responsibility and empathy drove me to help this stranger. As I tended to his wound, I noticed his clenched jaw and the way he winced whenever I applied the antiseptic. Every pained expression etched lines on his face, and it hit me just how much this boy had endured. Questions bubbled in my mind, but I hesitated to ask. His reluctance to go to the hospital told me he was running from something dark, something that had left him battered and broken.

Time seemed to stretch as I patched him up. I couldn't shake the feeling that our lives were colliding in a way neither of us expected. It wasn't just about saving a stranger anymore; it felt like we were connected, two people whose paths crossed in the most unexpected circumstances.

He eventually stirred, his eyes fluttering open with a mix of confusion and gratitude. "Where...?" he mumbled, still disoriented.

"You're safe. My apartment," I reassured him, offering a tentative smile. "You're going to be okay."

The vulnerability in his eyes struck a chord within me. The boy did not remain awake for long, falling unconscious soon afterwards. Once I made sure that the boy seemed stable, the adrenaline that had been fueling me during the impromptu first aid session began to wane. Reality crashed down like a relentless storm, and I found myself standing there, staring at the unconscious boy sprawled on my couch. Panic started to claw at my insides, its icy fingers tightening around my heart.

I paced around my apartment, rubbing my temples as if that could dispel the chaos swirling in my mind. I tried to remember the sequence of events that had led me to this moment. A seemingly chance encounter had evolved into me harboring an unknown, injured boy in my own living room.

The questions stormed my thoughts. Was he a criminal? Did he kill someone? Or was someone trying to kill him? The shadows of doubt crept in, fueled by a paranoid imagination working overtime. Each worst-case scenario played out in my mind, leaving me grappling with the weight of uncertainty.

My hands trembled, and I resisted the urge to call the police. The boy's plea not to involve the hospital echoed in my ears, but with every passing second, my mind conjured up more sinister explanations. Was I harboring a fugitive? Was he on the run from something or someone?

Doubt gnawed at my resolve, and I questioned my own judgment. What if he had manipulated me? What if he was dangerous? My sanctuary, my apartment, began to feel like a fragile cocoon, and I wondered if I had unwittingly invited danger inside.

"Shit!" I cursed aloud, frustration and fear bubbling to the surface. The walls seemed to close in on me, amplifying the gravity of the situation. I looked at the boy, still unconscious on the couch, and the unknowns that surrounded him felt like a ticking time bomb.

Fumbling for my phone, I hesitated with it in my hand. Should I call someone? Should I trust my gut or the whispers of paranoia? The boy's life, and potentially mine, hung in the balance, and I grappled with the decision, my emotions swinging like a pendulum between compassion and self-preservation. The flickering streetlight outside cast shadows, mimicking the turmoil within me. For a moment, I was paralyzed by the fear of the unknown, uncertain whether to continue offering help or to retreat from a situation that felt increasingly treacherous.

“What the Hell am I doing?” I whined, as I marched to my room and face-planted on the bed. “Oh, God. I don’t care anymore. This is tomorrow-me’s problem.”

Chapter Text

A low groan escaped my lips as I gradually stirred from the realm of unconsciousness. Every inch of my body ached, throbbing in unison with my heartbeat. Attempting to shift onto my side, I was met with a sharp pang of pain, causing me to wince and abandon the movement. Opting for stillness, I reluctantly opened my eyes, greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling looming above me.

Brows furrowed in confusion, I questioned my surroundings, wondering where on earth I found myself. Casting a glance to my right, I observed the morning light streaming through the window. The events of the previous day began to resurface, a chaotic reel of memory flooding my consciousness – a horde of demons descending upon me, my relentless battle against them, sustaining injuries, the weary limping toward an alley, and the unexpected intervention of an unknown woman.

Her voice lingered in my recollection, a compassionate undertone that resonated with gentleness and concern – emotions entirely foreign to the harshness and pain that had defined my existence. It was a stark contrast that left me struggling with unfamiliar sensations.

Turning my gaze back to the nightstand on my right, a surreal scene met my eyes. There lay a bloody scarf, a peculiar small knife, a spool of thread, a needle, and an open computer displaying research on how to sew an open wound. My mind struggled to process the incongruity of the scene.

"What the hell is going on?" I muttered to myself, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. I was accustomed to being in control, always aware of my surroundings and circumstances. The abrupt shift into confusion and dependency on someone else unsettled me.

As my eyes roved across the items, a surge of anger and perplexity filled me. Someone had taken me into their home, meticulously researched methods to mend my wounds, and tended to me with a level of care I had never experienced. It was a vulnerability I wasn't accustomed to, and the uncertainty of the situation grated against my usual sense of command. With a heavy sigh, I attempted to sit up, determined to confront the unknown benefactor and unravel the enigma that now enveloped me.

Almost as if in response, a faint groan echoed from my left side. Reacting with the reflexes honed through years of being a shadowhunter, I snapped my head toward the source of the sound. The sight that met my eyes left me momentarily paralyzed. An angelic figure lay asleep in an armchair adjacent to the sofa where I was situated.

Sunbeams streaming through the window lent a golden hue to her brown-almost-blonde hair, casting an ethereal glow upon her skin. However, it was her eyes that captivated me the most – the most resplendent emeralds I had ever seen. It wasn't a distinctive feature that held my attention; rather, it was the myriad of emotions shimmering within those eyes that stole my breath away.

Within those enchanting orbs, I discerned a mosaic of emotions – concern, happiness, kindness, astonishment, and curiosity, all directed at me. The realization struck me with a certain possessiveness, a darker facet of my psyche greedily claiming those emotions as mine. The question lingered: Who was this stranger, and why had she bestowed upon me a kindness that seemed reserved for the most cherished of beings?

"Hey there. How are you holding up?" Her voice was soft, with a subtle undercurrent of worry. It struck me that no one had ever addressed me in such a manner before. “You ended up running quite a fever last night, I had to wake up and check on you many times during the night. Though, I am glad it did not end up being an infection. I wouldn’t have known what to do otherwise.”

"Fine," I responded in a detached tone. The ingrained lesson from my father resonated in my mind – never reveal vulnerability to anyone.

"Liar," she retorted, accompanied by a glare that held no real animosity. My heart skipped a beat, fearing that she might leave. I wasn't ready to forfeit those fleeting moments of tenderness. To my relief, she rose from her seat, and my anxiety subsided as she returned with a glass of water and some pills. "Take these," she instructed. If she weren't such an intriguing individual, I might have disposed of her already. "They're painkillers; they'll help."

Reluctantly, I accepted the pills from her outstretched hand and swallowed them dry. "Thanks," I murmured, offering one of my trademark fake, charming smiles. Oddly enough, this time, the smile bore a semblance of sincerity, much like the words I had just spoken.

"You're welcome," she replied, reciprocating with a smile of her own. "Mind sharing what happened to you? And why a hospital visit is off the table?"

"I was attacked, and the reason you can't take me to the hospital is that I've managed to anger a lot of people," I explained, offering concise responses to her queries. It felt like the least I could do for the person who had just saved my life.

A palpable curiosity radiated from her, as if she craved more information, yet she restrained herself from asking further questions. In that moment, I recognized that this hunger for knowledge could eventually become both a captivating quality and, perhaps, her downfall.

"I should take a closer look at those wounds," she said, breaking the silence that lingered between us. "They need to be cleaned to prevent infection." Attempting to sit up, I only managed to emit a groan of pain. "Let me help you," she offered, rushing to my aid and guiding me with her gentle hands.

I tried to maintain composure, resisting the urge to derive any pleasure from her touch. Yet, her soft and gentle hands, brimming with concern as she tended to my wounds, invoked memories of imagined moments with Clarissa. The difference was that these touches were real, not mere figments of my imagination.

"Why bother taking care of me? Why not just leave me at the hospital?" I inquired.

She momentarily halted her movements, and I feared I had posed the question too early. However, she resumed her task and responded to my inquiry. "I couldn't let you die without doing my best to help," she began. "Initially, I wanted to take you to the hospital since I know very little about healing. However, you resisted, so I respected your wishes. Life is full of the choices we make—some we regret, some we are proud of. You chose a path, and I have no right to intervene. Nevertheless, I couldn't let you die. That's why I did what I did."

Surprised by her unexpected answer, I nodded in acknowledgment. It was not what I had anticipated. "Although, things changed afterward," she continued, her hand tracing down my chest and lingering on my back, just above the lingering scars my father had left so many years ago. "I can see that you've suffered a lot in your life. Not just from these scars but from the torment in your eyes. You have beautiful eyes. Dark, mysterious, passionate, deep, and hungry. They vividly reflect your personality and desires."

"And what might those be?" I responded gruffly, not appreciating the scrutiny.

"Love, family, a sense of belonging, something to give your life purpose," she answered with a comforting tone. "Essentially, what everyone seeks. You're not so different from the rest."

"You have no idea how different I am," I snorted, punctuating the statement with a dark chuckle.

"Then, at the very least, acknowledge that you are not alone," she insisted. "We are in search of the same things, walking similar paths. By the way, my name is Katherine Rosa Sangrienta."

I observed Katherine, this intriguing girl, with a mix of curiosity and shock. It was surprising that she admired my eyes, the very eyes that earned me disdain from my mother. She seemed capable of peering into my soul, reading me like an open book. Furthermore, she claimed that I wasn't alone, that she was with me. Despite knowing deep down that this was not true.

My father had made sure to instill in me the belief that no one would ever love or care for me, that I was destined to be alone. He hammered into my psyche that only family could come close to feeling anything resembling affection for a master like me. This was precisely why I was so fixated on manipulating my sister into considering me as more than just a brother, convinced that no other woman would ever entertain such thoughts.

However, as I gazed into Katherine's emerald eyes, radiating sincerity and warmth, I found myself reconsidering my initial instincts. Even though this might all be a facade and destined to crumble, there was a tempting allure in feeling connected, if only for a fleeting moment.

"I am Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern," I introduced myself. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Katherine."

Chapter Text

"I'm back!" Katherine's announcement echoed through her apartment, reaching my ears as I reclined on the couch.

I had been residing in her home for the past couple of weeks, my wounds healing at a pace that fell somewhere between my impatient desires and the sluggish pace of a regular mundane's body. Fortunately, this progress granted me the freedom to move around, sparing me from the confines of bed rest.

Choosing to remain indoors was a deliberate decision. The realization that venturing outside would render me vulnerable to potential enemies convinced me that it was a prudent course of action. Surprisingly, I found solace in this notion. It afforded me ample time to forge a connection with Katherine, developing a friendship that grew despite the interference of her job and college commitments.

"Welcome back," I greeted her from my spot on the couch, immersed in one of Shakespeare's timeless plays, Hamlet. Glancing at the clock, a minor rebuke echoed in the recesses of my mind for adapting to a routine so swiftly, but I dismissed it. "You're early," I remarked, gesturing towards the bags she held.

“The professor had other commitments and ended the class early,” a small smile played on her lips as she explained her early departure from class.

"Smart girl," I complimented, relishing the sight of her blushing cheeks. "What do you have there?" I pointed towards the bags.

"Today's dish ingredients and some stuff for next week; the fridge is almost empty," she replied, heading toward the kitchen.

Halting her progress, I relieved Katherine of the bags. "Let me put them in their place, and you go get a shower," I directed, emphasizing my point with a look that prompted a muttered response from her.

She complied with my suggestion, and as she vanished from view, I turned my attention to organizing the groceries. During this mundane task, I couldn't help but ponder whether this sensation mirrored the concept of having a home—a place of return and someone reliable to lean on.

"What the..." I shook my head vigorously, as if physically banishing the intrusive thoughts. "What is going on with you, Jonathan?!"

The echo of my own words lingered in the air, a self-directed question that left me grappling with the uncertainty of my evolving sentiments. After all, what did I need with a home or someone to rely on? My aspirations were clear—to be a ruler with Clarissa as my queen. Yet, even as I internally reaffirmed these ambitions, the words seemed to lose their resonance. Each passing day spent in Katherine's company chipped away at the certainties I had clung to. Her forgiveness and inherent kindness, contrary to my expectations, began to exert a subtle influence on me.

Since the demise of my father, the failure of his grand design, and my resurrection by Lilith, the Nephilim presented a constant threat. I harbored the knowledge that if captured, I'd face immediate execution without a moment's hesitation. This realization fueled my resolve to assert dominance over them, evading death at their hands. However, Katherine's presence compelled me to confront the shadows of my past and question my approach.

A nagging voice prompted me to wonder, "What if I were to go to the Clave and lay bare the truth?" What if I detailed the torment inflicted by my father from my childhood, his manipulations, and the ensuing sense of profound loss? The notion that they might extend forgiveness, much like they had for other Circle members seeking redemption, dared to linger in my thoughts.

Yet, this line of thinking felt naive, reminiscent of a girl sheltered from the darker facets of reality—a soul unacquainted with the burden of causing harm. An innocent who couldn't fathom the idea of inflicting pain upon another living being, much like her commitment to a vegetarian lifestyle.

"That is not true" I was snapped out of my thoughts by Katherine's voice.

When I turned around, I found her leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, with a sad amused smile. "How did you know what I was thinking?" I asked her suspiciously.

"You were speaking out loud," she told me. "When I was fourteen years old my older brother and I got snatched away from our homes and held captive for a few months by the Russian mafia. They tortured us, in all kinds of ways imaginable and the ones you cannot dare to think of," she chuckled humorlessly, lost in her memories. "I got lucky, not only for surviving, but for being able to maintain my virginity." I clenched my fists angrily at the thought of other men touching her, especially against her will. "My brother wasn't that lucky. He got raped, tortured, and killed, all in front of me..."

Even though her hair covered her face, the shaking of her shoulder was enough for me to know that she was crying. I walked towards her and wrapped her into my arms. The hug was awkward from my side, but when she hugged me like her life depended on it, I relaxed and hugged her correctly.

"Better?" I asked when she finally stopped shaking.

"Much better," Katherine answered with a grateful smile. "As I was saying, I suffered a lot. Not only those months but at my parent's house, as well. My mother died when I was a kid, and my dad got married again not long after she passed away. My stepmother is..."

"Evil," I supplied. Recalling all the fairy tale stories, from those Grimm brothers.

"Yes," she agreed. "She made her life purpose make my life hell. She makes me look bad in front of dad, and act as if I hurt her all the time. The worst of it all is that my father believes in her. She even convinced dad to move away when I returned, from being captive of the Mafia. Away from everyone and everything I ever loved, in a time of need. Do you know that my father didn't notice we were gone after a month of being taken away?"

"What an asshole!" I spat angrily.

"Indeed, he is," she said sadly. I could relate to that. After all my father wasn't the best example of parenthood either. "But we are getting off the point. What I have been trying to explain to you, is the reason why I am vegetarian, is that I don't want to inflict the pain that I suffered."

"What about forgiveness?" I inquired; curiosity piqued. "Why do you believe in forgiveness?"

"Because I want to be forgiven for my sins... for being in love with my own brother," she confessed, her distress evident.

"You love your sibling too?" The words escaped my lips before I could stop them.

"I did. Now I understand that I only did it because he is the light that kept me grounded and because it was safe to love him," she explained. "Wait! What? You're in love with your sibling?! I didn't even know you had any siblings."

"I have a little sister, her name is Clarissa. But now that I hear you talk... maybe I love her for the same reasons you loved your brother," I shared.

"Does she reciprocate your feelings?" she asked, and a laugh bubbled up within me. It was the first time she said something wrong, a significant mistake.

"She hates me!" I replied. "What about you?"

"Wrong gender," she answered.

"He..." I began, but Katherine cut me off.

"Marcelo was gay. Don't worry; it doesn't bother me at all. My best friend is gay," she said as she escaped my hug and pulled me out of the kitchen. "No more tears for today," she declared. "Get back to your book, and I'll start making dinner." With that, she shut the door in my face.

Maybe... okay! I'll try to set things right for once, I decided in my head before picking up Hamlet again. The weight of the words lingered in the air, and a mixture of emotions swirled within me. It was a strange feeling, grappling with the concept of forgiveness and love, especially when the source was someone, I had never expected to share such a vulnerable moment with.

That night, I entered Katherine's room with silent footsteps, careful not to disturb her peaceful sleep. I stood there for a moment, watching her with a fond smile. The warm glow of the bedside lamp highlighted her face, and a mixture of emotions stirred within me.

Gently, I took off my Morgenstern ring and placed it on the table beside her bed, along with a note. The weight of my decision to leave weighed heavily on my heart, but I believed it was the only way to set things right. I had to face my past, explain myself, and seek forgiveness for my actions.

Dear Katherine,

I know you probably want to kill me for doing this, but I need to set things right. I went home to face my problems, explain myself, and hope for forgiveness for my actions. I'll likely face dire consequences, and it hurts me to part ways with you. But these last two weeks have been the best of my life, and I'm grateful for all you've done for me.

I left you the only thing I have left from my family—the Morgenstern ring. Take very good care of it, and I hope it will remind you of me.

I know I have no right to ask this, but please wait for me. If I don't return in a couple of months, then stop hoping I will ever return. However, if, by some miracle, I emerge from this mess alive... I hope there's still a place in your apartment. I'll need a place to stay, a place to call home.

Love,

Jonathan

With the note in place, I took a final look at Katherine, feeling a mix of sadness, gratitude, and determination. I silently left her room, hoping that one day I would return and that she would still be there, waiting for me. The night was heavy with the weight of uncertainty as I stepped out into the unknown, but for the first time, I felt a glimmer of hope for a different future.

Chapter Text

For the past two weeks, I found myself immersed in the challenging task of persuading the Clave to embrace a groundbreaking change—legalizing marriages between downworlders and Nephilim. The journey was an uphill battle, especially in the wake of the recent legalization of homosexual marriages. Shadowhunters, traditionally resistant to change, were proving to be a formidable obstacle.

Yet, amid this struggle, Alec Lightwood emerged as a pivotal force. His presence, with every stance, movement, and word spoken in the midst of the Clave and downworlders, bore a semblance to my ex-husband. However, the stark contrast lay in Alec's lack of the ambition, charisma, and hunger for power that characterized Valentine.

Alec's strength, I soon realized, lay in his ability to convince, and open minds. He articulated his points with rational precision, offering compelling arguments that transcended the boundaries between the Nephilim and downworlders. His motivations were pure, rooted in genuine concern rather than a pursuit of power. Alec earned the trust of downworlders through transparency, showcasing a level of honesty rarely seen. Simultaneously, he garnered the admiration of the Clave by capturing Camille and boldly opposing them—a feat that had been a rarity since my daughter's defiance preceding the battle against her father.

In the end, the Clave relented, accepting our petition, and endorsing the new law. A significant condition, proposed by the downworlders, stipulated that whenever disputes arose between our two worlds, Alec must serve as a mediator. It was a momentous victory.

Everything seemed to be unfolding perfectly. Luke and I, filled with joy and anticipation, made our way to Idris once again to legalize our marriage. Little did I expect the seismic shock awaiting me—a revelation that would shatter the illusion of our bliss. It was a heavy blow to learn that my son, Jonathan, had voluntarily surrendered himself to the Clave, contingent upon a fair trial.

Reluctantly, I attended the trial, a decision that I wished I could unmake. The truths of the horrors revealed left me feeling empty and broken, each revelation more painful than the last. I bore witness to the tortured existence my son endured since birth at the hands of Valentine, the father of my children. I listened to Jonathan's harrowing tale of a life spent in the belief that he was utterly alone, unloved. His obedience to his father stemmed from a desperate reliance on the only reality he had ever known. His resurrection from death left him terrified and adrift, prompting a desire to seize control of our world as a means of self-preservation.

The trial accused me, painting me as a horrible mother who failed her son. Guilt seeped through me as I recalled the disdain I harbored for him as an innocent baby, tainted by demonic blood. Silently, I wept more tears than I ever thought possible.

Jonathan, in a plea reminiscent of ex-Circle members seeking redemption, begged for forgiveness. The children of Lilith, the faeries, vampires, werewolves, and shadowhunters each cast their votes. Empathy seemed to sway the majority, with the children of Lilith and faeries voting for his forgiveness. Vampires were divided, while werewolves offered their acceptance in contrast to shadowhunters, where only thirty percent welcomed him back.

While the majority supported Jonathan, skepticism lingered. Allegations of deception were thrown around, leading to three months of continued trial. My son, imprisoned in a wretched cell, endured the harsh conditions while struggling with the need to convince the Clave of his sincerity. My attempts to ease his suffering included providing pillows, blankets, books, food, and even an air mattress, a meager attempt to soften the agony of his confinement.

I made frequent visits to the prison where Jonathan was held, eager to reconnect with my estranged son. We spoke of the pain of my desperate return when I ran away and the crushing grief I experienced when I believed he was lost forever. I bared my soul, sharing the intimate details of my annual ritual, marked by tears shed on the anniversary of his presumed death while clutching a chest engraved with his name close to my heart. I told him about Clary, Luke, my life as an artist, and my mundane existence.

In return, Jonathan offered valuable advice to nurture my artistic career, and together, we devised a plan to elevate Luke's library to newfound fame. Witnessing the brilliance of his mind, I couldn't help but marvel, albeit with a shiver of discomfort as echoes of his father, Valentine, resonated within him. Guilt tugged at me for drawing parallels and succumbing to the fear that my own son might mirror the darkness of his progenitor.

Jonathan, in turn, spoke passionately about a girl named Katherine, describing her as an angelic presence that illuminated his path out of darkness. During one of these heart-to-heart talks, I couldn't help but sense the budding affection in his words. "You love her," I observed one day.

"I do," he confessed, as if the admission had long weighed on his mind. Yet, the complications arose from the stark differences in their worlds; Katherine, a mundane, posed a threat to Jonathan's runes and his standing among the shadowhunters.

In an attempt to bridge the divide, I suggested, "Ask her if she wants to join us. Robert mentioned that they are recruiting mundanes to transform them into shadowhunters." The idea of having a daughter-in-law appealed to me.

You like the idea of knowing that your son isn't a sick monster that wants to rape your daughter. Also, that girl seems to keep mini-Valentine in check. A dark side of my brain commented inside my head. But I just shook my head and chased those thoughts away.

"We share the same habit of chasing away our thoughts," he observed, breaking the silence. My heart warmed with a flicker of hope as he acknowledged our shared gesture. Returning his smile, I found solace in the small connection we were rekindling. "But I can't ask her to be one of us; she is against any kind of violence. Also, I'm not good for her. I want her to be happy and find a man who won't destroy her life."

Surprised by his selfless declaration, I remarked, "You love her enough to let her go." The transformation in him was profound. In his past love for Clary, coercion and force were his methods, but now he had chosen to prioritize Katherine's happiness and safety, resigning himself to the idea of letting her be free. "Everything will end up fine... son," I added, taken aback by my own choice of words, yet realizing that they reflected the evolving dynamic between us.

Shortly thereafter, a guard arrived to escort us to the final meeting of Jonathan's trial. The verdict mirrored that given to the ex-Circle members, and relief washed over me knowing that my son was spared from a death sentence. Celebrating this victory, I felt a renewed sense of hope.

As the proceedings unfolded, Jia, the Consul, posed a question to Jonathan. "Which Institute do you want to go to?"

"New York's," he answered without hesitation.

His choice to be near the family and make amends for the accidental death of Max Lightwood showed a commitment to change. Despite the cautious response from Robert Lightwood, acknowledging that forgiveness wouldn't come easily, Jonathan seemed prepared for the challenging road ahead. Observing the subtle signs of sadness in Jonathan, I recognized echoes of my own guarded emotions. It provided a glimmer of hope that my son, despite the demon blood coursing through his veins, remained tethered to humanity. When he asked if I was ready to return to New York with him, my response was a resolute yes.

Chapter Text

"Finally," Mags murmured breathlessly as I pressed him against the closed door of his apartment, showering a trail of kisses down his neck. "After so many years of discrimination and injustice, downworlders will have a legal and equal place in the shadowhunters' lives."

"One day," I whispered against his skin, "we will have the same happiness we helped others to get." Locking eyes with him, I tried to convey the depth of my emotions. "Gay marriage is legal, marriage with downworlders is legal. Now there is nothing that would stop us."

"Alec..." he gasped, his eyes widening and jaw dropping in shock. "Are you saying what I think you are saying?"

"Not now, I am still too young to be a husband," I replied, taking my family's ring off. "But one day..." Handing it to the love of my life, I continued, "One day, I plan to call you Magnus Lightwood-Bane. Would you like that?"

"I would love that!" Magnus exclaimed, sliding the ring onto his finger before leaping into my arms. Our passionate kiss endured until my phone interrupted the moment with a persistent ring. "Leave it," Magnus urged, pouting.

"I can't, Mags," I chuckled at his protest. "It might be from the Institute." Answering the call, I greeted, "Hi."

"Xander!" My best friend's desperate cry sent a chill down my spine. "Someone is following me, and I can assure you he is not human!"

"Where are you?" I demanded, pushing Magnus away and rushing out of the apartment.

"I am exiting Macy's right now," she replied, her rapid breathing audible through the phone. "What should I do?"

"Wait for me at the cafe where we always eat whenever you have a lunch break free," I ordered her, sprinting as fast as I could to her aid. The thrill of newfound legal rights for downworlders and the promise of a future with Magnus were momentarily eclipsed by the urgency of Katherine’s distress.

However, as I arrived, a gruesome scene unfolded before my eyes—everyone was dead. The walls were smeared with blood, and severed heads littered the floor. "Kitten!" I frantically screamed for her. "Katherine! Where are you?!"

"Help! Xander! Kitchen!" Her desperate voice echoed back.

I sprinted toward the source of the sound, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. Six transformed werewolves blocked my path, but without a second thought, I brandished my silver dagger and attacked. The danger was immense, and recklessness guided my actions as my sole focus was on tearing them apart and rescuing my best friend.

Time seemed to blur as I fought, but eventually, I emerged victorious, having dispatched all six werewolves. I strode towards the kitchen, dread gnawing at my gut. Regrettably, I was too late; the Alpha of their pack had already bitten Katherine. She convulsed on the floor, her body transforming under the influence of demoniac magic.

"Kitten!" I wailed in anguish as I rushed to her side, dropping to my knees, and cradling her in my arms. "What is the meaning of this?" I demanded answers from the Alpha.

"It's the bitch's fault. She could have stayed human and been my wife, but she refused. Now she will be tied to me for all eternity because I am her maker and her Alpha," the vile werewolf laughed maniacally.

"You son of a bitch! I'll kill you!" I swore, but the werewolf continued to mock me.

"How will you do that, little Nephilim?" He taunted.

"I don't know about him..." a low growl resonated through the room, interrupting the Alpha's laughter. "... but I will rip your head off!" Before I could even blink, Katherine slipped from my arms, and the Alpha's head rolled onto the ground.

"Kitten?" I softly called out to her, not wanting to startle a newly transformed werewolf. She spun around rapidly at the sound of my voice, her eyes wide with surprise. "Kitten, calm down."

"Calm down?!" Katherine shouted in outrage. "I just took a man's head off with my bare hands! How did I do that?"

"You're a werewolf now, that's how you did it," I told her matter-of-factly. "And now, you're an Alpha—for five Betas."

"I thought you killed them," she said after a moment of processing what I had just revealed.

"There are only two packs in New York," I explained. "Luke's, which is extensive because it's the merger of two packs, and the one led by this bastard." I kicked the severed head of the deceased Alpha. "His pack had twelve members, including him. I took care of six, and you killed the Alpha, making you the new leader of the pack."

"Xander, what's going on here? Pack? Alpha? Werewolves?" Katherine asked, confusion etched across her face, though she seemed somewhat more composed than before.

"Come on, Kitten. Let's head to Magnus's apartment, and I'll explain everything, okay?" She nodded in agreement, allowing me to guide her through Brookline. "I'm back!" I announced as we reached my boyfriend's apartment.

"You better have a good reason for pushing me away and running away from me, after proposing!" Demanded a fuming Magnus as he barged into the living room. He came to a sudden halt, freezing when he saw the sorry state, we were both in. "What in Lilith's name happened?" He rushed to my side, checking for any injuries, and healing them when he found any.

"Why does he have golden cat eyes? Or why is he releasing blue sparks from his fingertips? And did he say proposing? Are you getting married, and you didn't tell me?" Katherine fired one question after another, not giving me time to answer any of them. "I could have helped with the whole proposal thing!"

"Kitten, calm down," I reminded her. She took a few deep breaths and counted to ten, eventually managing to relax. "Mags, this is my best friend since I was five years old, Katherine Rosa Sangrienta. She goes by Kitty or Kate too, but I am the only one allowed to call her Kitten. Kitten, this is my boyfriend and fiancé, Magnus Bane," I introduced them.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Magnus," my friend said with a smile. "I had heard a lot about you from Xander."

"Same here, but he never mentioned your name, so I thought you were a guy," replied Mags with a relieved smile. Wait! Was he jealous? I was surprised by the revelation. "You seem to be keeping it together quite well, for not knowing a thing about this world and being thrown into it just like that. Also, Xander?"

"That's my nickname for the big guy over here," Katherine answered. "Also, I always knew that something wasn't normal with Xander. And if you knew me well, you would know that I might look okay on the exterior, but I am freaking out on the inside."

"Let's sit down and let us explain all of it to you," I offered tiredly. We all followed my suggestion, a process that took a considerable amount of time, numerous cups of coffee, and added sugar to keep us going. "What are you going to do now?" I asked her once we had finished explaining everything to her.

"I will keep on living my life," she replied. "I will go to college and work; I'll just have to add running a pack into my schedule. But from what you've told me, they are all grownups and have their own lives. They can take care of themselves, and as long as they don't cause trouble, I don't see any problem. However, I'll need your help to train and control my new powers," she said seriously. "And if you could contact Luke for me, I'll need advice from another Alpha."

"She is amazing," stated Mags after hearing her answer in silence.

"I know. I will give Luke a call and explain your situation; he would love to help," I told Katherine. "By the way, Kitten, what are you doing with the Morgenstern family ring?"

Chapter Text

"I didn't mention your forgiveness by the Clave to Clary," my mother told me as we stepped out of the portal. "She doesn't even know that you turned yourself in. Also, for what I know, neither do Simon, Jace, and Isabelle." I nodded, acknowledging her words while still engrossed in my phone. "I just wanted her to hear it from me and to understand what you had gone through. If she had known before..."

"She would have spoken against me and demanded my death sentence," I finished the sentence my mother couldn't, maintaining a neutral tone to mask the underlying anger.

"You have to understand her position," Luke chimed in. "She has only known you as Valentine's puppet and the brother that..."

"Wanted her to become his wife," I interjected, emphasizing the uncomfortable truth they were trying to avoid.

I smirked, reveling in the impact my words had on those around me. While I might not harbor the desire to rule the world anymore, I found a certain satisfaction in occasional displays of my darker side.

"You don't still want to do it, do you?" Jocelyn asked, probing my intentions.

"No," I chuckled. "Not anymore." I checked my phone once again.

"Because now it's Katherine you want," my mother said, a pleased smile on her face, relishing the fact that her son no longer harbored questionable desires for her daughter. "Is she the one sending you messages?"

"Yes. She left me a lot of voicemails, texts, and missed calls," I sighed with a mix of happiness and sadness. "All of them telling me not to turn myself in and get killed."

"She seems to care a lot about you," commented Luke. "Maybe you should reconsider not getting in another life again. She seems to want to be part of yours and is a very good influence on you."

"Maybe..." I began, but my words were abruptly cut off as a werewolf attacked me. "What in the name of Raziel?!" I cursed as she pinned me down.

The werewolf's hold on me was amateur; I could easily free myself and dispatch her before she had a chance to react. However, as soon as I looked into my attacker's face, I relaxed.

"You bastard!" Katherine screamed at me angrily, causing me to flinch as I gazed at her, perplexed. "You can't live with me for two weeks, make me fall in love with you, and then hand yourself to the Clave for a secure death without even saying goodbye. Leaving me your family ring, knowing the meaning of that gesture and the consequences, I am sure you would have never accepted... is plain cruel." My eyes widened when tears began to roll down my cheeks – tears that weren't mine. "I hate you!" Katherine muttered under her breath, but her words were audible before she ran away from me.

"Who was that?" Jocelyn asked, her voice mirroring Luke's confusion. "What just happened?"

"That was Katherine Rosa Sangrienta, and she had just whipped the floor with Jonathan," answered a voice from the background, someone I didn't care to identify.

Engulfed in my heartbreak, nothing else seemed important to me at that moment, except for Katherine's forgiveness. The realization struck me like a bolt of lightning, and the weight of my actions began to sink in.

"Magnus? What are you doing here?" My mother questioned the warlock.

"It seems like my dear Alec has known Katherine since they were very little and had been best friends since then," began Bane, grabbing my attention. "Yesterday, Katherine was attacked by Peter and six of his wolves.

"Peter did what?" Luke exclaimed in surprise as I shouted in outrage, "I will reap his head off!"

"You are a little late for that," the warlock's comment stopped me in my tracks. "Katherine already did that. It seems like Peter has been lusting after her for a long time, but she always refused him."

Good! I thought, I was a very possessive person and loathed when people touched what is mine.

"In revenge, he planned to tie her to his pack by turning her," I started to see red again, but the next words of Bane calmed me down. "What he didn't suspect was Alec coming to her rescue," he said with pride and lust shining in his eyes. "My angel killed six of them, but when he reached the Alpha... Katherine was already changing." No! I screamed distressfully in my head. "When she woke up, consumed by her new instincts, she reaped the head off Peter with her bare hands... or I better say 'her bare claws'. Afterwards, Alec and I sat down and explained everything to her," his gaze rested on me for the first time since he came into the room. "And you'll know our surprise when she told us about you," I glared at the warlock, wishing that he wasn't in a relationship with Katherine's best friend so I could kill him. "Go to Central Park; she surely is there with Alec."

As I left the Institute, my mind raced with mixed emotions. Relief washed over me, knowing that Katherine was safe, and Alec was there to support her. However, the guilt for my actions lingered, especially as it seemed to have affected Katherine deeply. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had jeopardized something valuable.

"Take your hands off her!" I bellowed at Lightwood, who was practically all over Katherine.

"Why?" He dared me. "You never cared enough for her. You made her fall in love with you knowing that you would never be able to be with her, because she was a mundane," he glared fiercely at me.

It surprised me how much heat and protectiveness I could see in his eyes. I had always considered Alexander to be the soft one. Now, I retracted that notion; he could be more wicked than his siblings if someone hurt the people he loved.

"That is not true," I replied, hating how I felt, like a little kid being scolded by a grown-up.

"Then what is true?" Katherine asked. I hated how confused and broken she sounded, but I hated myself more because I caused that.

"I love you, Katherine. You changed me; you made me see the truth. I stopped wanting to rule the world because of you. I gained forgiveness because of you. My relationship with my mother is better because of you. My life is the best it has ever been because of you. You are my guardian angel, the one I love the most on this planet," I confessed, smirking internally as her eyes widened and a blush appeared on her cheeks.

My plan worked, as always. I will have her finally. All mine! I thought victoriously. "That is why I wanted to be out of your life, to not ruin it and for you to meet the right man who could give you what you deserve."

"But I want you!" Katherine confessed, jumping into my arms and kissing me.

Of course, I kissed back. "I love you too," I told her once we broke apart for air, and then kissed her again.

Chapter Text

"Come on, Clary! Just let me come inside with you; it's just dinner after all," complained Jace, leaving a trail of kisses down my neck to distract me and persuade me to accept.

"It's dinner, with my parents," I specified. "Did you forget that Mom hates you?"

"Don't talk about my relationship with your mother like that," he replied, making me laugh. "It's... complicated."

"Complicated my ass," I snorted.

"Well, you have a nice ass," Jace's comment made me blush.

"Ok!" I conceded, still blushing. "Just let's get inside and get this finished with. Mom sounded kind of worried when she called," I told him, feeling concerned.

Being the best boyfriend he is, Jace wrapped an arm around me to give me comfort and guided me inside. We hung our coats and scarves on the coat rack before heading to the dining room. However, as soon as we saw the scene unfolding in the room, we stopped frozen. Mom and Luke were sitting, showing us their backs, across from Sebastian and a gorgeous, strange girl. By her side was Alec, and next to Luke was Magnus. The most perturbing thing was that they were all laughing about something the girl said, while Alec blushed.

Jace and I exchanged puzzled glances, wondering what kind of unexpected gathering this was. As we approached the table, the laughter died down, and all eyes turned to us. I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease and curiosity about the mysterious girl seated with our group.

"What in Raziel's name is going on here?!" Jace demanded to know angrily, drawing his sword, and pointing it towards Sebastian.

"Jace, calm down and put the sword away," ordered Alec softly, as if afraid a wrong move would make Jace go crazy. Ironically, my mad brother was sitting just two seats away!

"Don't tell me to calm down, Alec!" Jace shouted at his parabatai. "Sebastian is here! And you all look as if you're having a nice tea party! Did you forget that he killed Max?!"

Alec flinched at the memory, and Magnus stood up, getting to his boyfriend's side to offer comfort while glaring at Jace. My boyfriend looked guilty, but his stubbornness prevented him from seeking forgiveness. More surprisingly, Sebastian gazed at his plate with a mixture of concern, guilt, and rage.

"So... who is Sebastian?" Asked the new girl, attempting to ease the tense atmosphere. My attention, however, was fixed on the way she rubbed her hands up and down my brother's arms to provide comfort.

Suddenly, something caught my eye, and I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Why is that girl wearing the Morgenstern family ring?"

"The girl has a name," she replied with a raised eyebrow. "And I asked first, Clarissa. Who is Sebastian?"

"You should know, you're all over him right now," Jace grunted in disgust.

"Watch it, Herondale!" Sebastian warned with a sadistic glare. Now, that sight was the most familiar one I had seen all night. "Speak whatever you wish of me but leave Katherine out of it. She has nothing to do with all of this."

"She's wearing your family's ring; I think she has everything to do with it," I replied with disdain.

"It's your family as well, Clarissa," my brother told me with a malicious smile, making me feel uncomfortable.

As the tension in the room escalated, I couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding about the mysterious connection between Katherine, Sebastian, and the Morgenstern family ring.

"Stop it, Jonathan! You're making her feel more uncomfortable than she already was," the girl scolded my brother, who surprisingly listened to her. "By the way, Clarissa, your brother is right. You're still a Morgenstern, like it or not, that will never change. Just because your father was no good man doesn't mean you have to forget where you come from. If you do, you'll only let him win." My eyes widened at her words.

"I had never thought of it like that," I thought out loud.

"She's very wise, isn't she?" Commented my brother, looking at her as she hung up the moon for him.

"Thank you. Shut up, Alec!" she elbowed Jace's parabatai when he snorted. "Secondly, your brother's name is Jonathan, not Sebastian. I know that you don't have the best relationship and might never have. But just listen to him; he has a lot of stuff to explain," Katherine asked me softly.

I wanted to say no, to leave and never look back. But looking at her pleading and honest eyes, I couldn't say no. And it was a good thing I agreed to listen to my brother. I knew that my father was an evil son of a bitch, but I would have never imagined that he was capable of torturing his own son.

As Jonathan began to share his story, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Katherine, who had been a source of tension, transformed into a mediator, guiding the conversation, and ensuring that I absorbed every bit of my brother's painful narrative. The details unfolded, revealing a darker side of our family history that I had been oblivious to.

"Damn it!" cursed Jace, next to me. "And I thought that Valentine was hard... it was nothing compared to what he did to you."

"You were always his favorite, the angel boy," commented Jonathan bitterly.

"You still have me, and you are my favorite," Katherine told my brother and kissed his cheek affectionately.

"That's true, I still have you," he said with a smile. Not those fake ones or evil ones I see him wearing all the time; this was honest and wholehearted.

"Can you both please stop acting like you are in love? It's like watching Isabelle eye-fucking that bloodsucker," Alec asked uncomfortably and slightly green.

"We are in love," replied Katherine, with an amused smile, and jumped into Alec's arms. "Sorry, big guy, but this is payback for walking in on you and Magnus having sex yesterday." We all laughed when Alec blushed.

"So, you are both engaged?" I asked her.

"What? Xander and I?" Katherine questioned me with an amused expression. From what I I could see, she loves messing around with people.

"No! You and Sebastian," exclaimed Jace. "Why would you even think Clary would get to that conclusion?"

"Cause she would be the first one to think we are a couple," answered Alec, instead of Katherine.

"Also, we look quite good together," added Katherine jokingly.

But by the looks of jealousy on Magnus and Jonathan's faces, I knew they didn't appreciate that comment. I felt a twinge of satisfaction when they reluctantly broke apart from their intimate hug and returned to their respective partners.

"Yes, we are, Clarissa," my brother answered my question, possessively wrapping his arms around his fiancée's waist.

"He isn't the only one," added Magnus, cuddling against Alec, and proudly displaying the Lightwood family ring on his finger.

"Damn it!" This time, I was the one who cursed.

"Clary!" My mother scolded me.

"Mom, I think that one was allowed," I snapped. "Too much information in too little time. Let's just have dinner and see how things unfold from here."

They all nodded at my proposal and started eating. Could this really be happening? My brother being good, and everything falling into place just the way it always had to be. I pondered the thought with a hint of worry. "Think about it tomorrow, Frey! For now, just enjoy a nice but weird family dinner."