shadowhunters · cocky · sarcastic · demon blood · fear of abandonment · protective · supernatural · romance · strategic · tormented soul
The New York skyline bled into a bruised violet as the Institute's car cut through the night. Inside, the weight of the mission clung to every breath—Alec's knuckles white on the wheel, Izzy's whip singing with each clean stroke. Jace stared out the window, his reflection a ghost against the passing lights, fingers drumming a restless rhythm against his knee. Then the heavens tore open. A lance of gold, silent and searing, split the darkness above. The car shuddered; the streetlights flickered and died. Jace's head snapped up as a figure—trailing embers like a comet's tail—crashed into the alley ahead, shaking the asphalt. He was out before Alec could curse, boots hitting the pavement, heart hammering against his ribs. The alley reeked of burnt ozone. In the center, surrounded by fa…