independent. | Jace Wayland

chapter 9: iratze.

<Y/n's Pov>

New York Institute, Upper East side Manhattan

Tuesday, 09:13 a.m

I was warm, that's what I noticed first. And comfy and safe- i felt safe. I peeled back my eyelids and the lack of recognition in the room I was in sent a slight shock of surprise through me.

Instead of seeing the morning sunlight glide over my floorboards, reaching out to where I lay on my mattress, I saw these curtains blocking the sun's rays. I saw a room with hard wooden floors and thick old rugs. I was in a proper bed with the covers pulled up beneath my chin. The whole room was rather old fashioned and was lit with a warm light. There were two doors, one was open and led to a small bathroom whilst the other remained closed.

I pushed back the covers and looked down at myself, I was wearing a large t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. They were not mine. Someone had changed my clothes and something clicked in my head. The memories of last night came swimming back like a flood. I pulled up the shirt and examined my bare torso. No cut, no scratch, not even a scar. Not a single trace.

My heart beat a pace quicker, I let the shirt drop and my eyes skimmed to my left forearm. A mark- the same.

"No- fuck." I breathed and my eyes widened, had they tattooed me? They fucking tattooed me, the same marks they had, the same my parents- my parents had. No.

I padded barefoot to the bathroom and held my arm under the running tap.

"Come off- shit, come one- come off." I muttered and began to rub at the inked skin.

"Hey- hey, you're awake." Someone echoed behind me, the voice was female and came from the other room but I didn't look behind me.

I continued to scrub at the black mark engraved in my skin, it didn't move, not even a smudge.

"Woah wait- what are you doing?" She asked, her voice slightly concerned, the door opened further as she entered the bathroom and she saw what i was doing. "Stop- Y/n it won't come off." She said lightly, putting her hands on my arm, trying to pull it away from the sink gently.

"I know it won't come off- why won't it come off. I don't want it." My breaths were ragged.

"It's okay, come, come sit with me." She succeeded in pulling my arm away from the sink and turned off the tap. I looked up at the girl, it was the girl with red hair. She grabbed a small towel from a neat pile and dabbed off the excess water gently.

I let her guide me back to the bed and she smiled at me.

"My name is Clary and you're in the Newyork Institute." She said, "You've been asleep for about a day."

"I have?"

"Yes, Jace found you, you were hurt do you remember?" She positioned herself on the bed to sit cross legged to face me so I did the same to her.

"Yes- yes I remember, that was Sunday night."

"It's now Tuesday."

"Yes, that I get. I've been asleep for a day but how am I healed? I was bleeding. I was hurt, I passed out, I know because I remember Jace telling me to stay awake. How- where is the cut?" I asked all at once and she took a deep breath then reached for my forearm which she smoothed her hand over the mark.

"This is called an Iratze, these-" She touched it again, "These marks are runes and Jace gave you this when he found you because..." She cut herself off.

"Because what Clary? Does Wayland not have a justified reason for tattooing a girl nonconsensually whilst she was unconscious?"

"It healed you, otherwise you would have bled out, Y/n."

I didn't reply, mainly because I was still processing her words. I was wondering if I heard her right? Was she on drugs? Was I on drugs? (probably) Did i really almost die but Clary then said a sentence that threw me off of all of that.

"Jace saved your life."