Detained [2] 《SHADOWHUNTERS》

Chapter Thirty-Four

Clary's head was pounding when she came to, a searing pain that went deep into the bone. It clouded her vision as she struggled to open her eyes. Everything was a blur. The night was dark. She dug her fingers into the cold, gritty soil, grasping desperately for something to hold onto.

She tried to push herself up, but she soon found that something heavy trapped her wrists together. She stumbled back to the ground. Her mind swirled from the sudden movement and she forced herself through deep breaths to avoid passing out once again. She shook her head, attempting to make out the blurry shadows that encompassed her view. When the haze faded to the edge of her eyesight, her breath caught in her throat.

She was met with the sight of a broken, lifeless Jace beside her. Her heart stung worse than the ebbing migraine. She knew he was gone, but the pallor made it all too real. She suppressed the whimper that tried to crawl up her throat and instead choked out, "Ave atque vale." It was the very same line Izzy had muttered sarcastically after Jonathan's dead body the night before, meant to honor the fallen.

Clary's eyes fell away from the blood-covered earth and she tried to shake the aching fuzz away once again. Her hands were bound in strong metal cuffs. She scanned the beach and focused on another figure that nearly blended into the rocky shore. She felt like someone had struck her heart with silver when she saw the unmistakable swirl of runes on pale skin. Andy. The waves lapped at her legs as she lay, waterlogged, face down in the sand. The amount of blood trailing down the woman's limp arm was too much for Clary to let herself assume she might just be unconscious.

Something glinted in the moonlight and caught her eye. She reluctantly forced herself away from the two downed soldiers as she found her father at the edge of the beach. The Mortal Sword was resting in his right hand and the Cup was in the other.

Clary didn't have any ideas. She was broken, and despite dealing with her mother's death, she hadn't learned how to fight and be broken. She wasn't sure if any Shadowhunters had truly mastered it. All she could do was force herself to sit up, trembling, and yell, "Stop!"

Valentine's shoulders lifted and he turned to look at her with a sickeningly wide smile, despite the children he had raised laying in ruins around him, dead and dying. It was like a terribly sick painting. He examined her tear-stricken face cheerfully as he set the Sword and Cup back down on the stone beside him. "Good, you're awake. Just in time to see history being made."

Clary glowered at him as he came closer, disgusted when he casually stepped over Andina's blood-stained arm. "You killed them," she spat.

"I'm certain they would have stopped me if I hadn't." He said it like it was a truly valid reason to tear someone's life away. He strolled towards her, lowering his voice into a false sincerity that she had long since learned to look past. "Clarissa, I loved my children. Like I loved Jocelyn."

Clary's breath hitched in her throat at the mention of her mother. A deep realization struck her. She had no one. No one except for him. And she would rather be dead than ever play family with him.

"See," he began softly, "their deaths were necessary sacrifices, if I'm going to save humanity."

"Don't lie to me," Clary scoffed, lip curled up into an everlasting snarl. "You've never loved anyone but yourself."

"Oh," Valentine breathed sadly, like he had just found a crying child that needed to be shushed. He crouched down before her, forcing them to be at eye level. "If that were true, then why do you think I've kept you alive?"

Clary thought she was stronger, but she lost her words abruptly. She watched as he stood up and trailed back over to the Mortal Instruments. He picked them up again and raised them into the air, prepared to begin the ritual.