'He said, there are thousands of Shadowhunter's, but great love comes once in a lifetime if one is lucky, and one would be a fool to let it go'
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A story in which Camilla Fairchild finds herself yanked into an existence unknown to 'mundanes' on h...
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Valentine was my father.
Valentine.
The complete and utter psychopath that wanted to destroy the downworld was my father.
I could barely comprehend what I had remembered, all I could do was sit in my bed, tears endlessly falling and sob as my heart clenched and my eyes burned.
Everything my mother had told me was a lie.
My entire life has been nothing but a lie.
My identity, my family, my world... all lies.
The more I contemplated the world of deception that I lived in the harder I sobbed, I didn't bother to wipe away the water fall of tears, nor did I bother to hide the loud and hyperventilated cries that escaped my lips.
I was in so much pain, I felt like I was drowning in it and no one was there to save me.
I hated appearing so weak; yet in this moment in time, my appearance was the last thing I cared about.
There was little I cared about now.
Besides Clary. I cared about Clary.
I quickly inhale a sharp breath at the thought of Clary, my eyes wide and heart hammering.
I had to tell Clary.
I immediately jump out of the warmth of my bed without a thought to it, not bothering to tidy the mess and I certainly didn't bother with changing my clothes or fixing my make up or hair.
I rapidly ran forward, yanking the door open with all my might and rushed into the deserted hall, my eyes scanning left and right as I contemplated which way to go. My mind was racing and my heart hammering, the idea of having to break this to Clary hurt me more than the revelation itself.
How could I tell her this?
Clary and I adored our father; our entire lives were built on the foundation that he was this amazing man who was worth our admiration and love, and yet all along he was nothing but a hateful and cruel man.
A man that we were meant to help destroy.
I swiftly wipe away the next set of tears that trolled down my cheeks, brushing my untamed and wild hair out of my face, I hurry into the kitchen to check for Clary and grimace when I don't see her. I do however see Isabelle, and as her brown eyes land on me they fill with concern as she frowns, immediately dropping whatever she had in her hands and running over.
"Cam?" She questions, a worried expression etched onto her face, "What wrong? Are you okay?"
I nod dismissively, wiping at my eyes roughly, not bothering to answer her questions. "Have you seen Clary?" I ask hurriedly, my voice was croaky and dry due to how much I've cried and I could barely swallow without feeling sick.
