metanoia | alec lightwood

14

A wide smirk was on my face as I kicked the man that was ten times bigger than me against the fence with all my strength, dropping to my feet from holding the fence above us.

I was on Valentine's ship, where all the prisoners were. There was a ring built within the ship, where I would fight Circle Members one on one or group by group, bettering my fighting skills.

It was like my own personal fighting club.

Jace stood behind the fence, watching me fight, shoved between many Circle Members that surrounded the ring.

I was dressed in black sweatpants and a white tank top, that was tied up in a knot half away, black combat boots on my feet, my hands wrapped.

When he got back up, I launched myself toward him, grunting loudly as my fist came contact with his face, spinning kicking him back against the fence aggressively.

He threw himself at me, throwing punches, ones that I blocked, kicking him, fighting him off.

But, when I kicked for his face again, he grabbed a hold of my ankle and threw me to the ground, hitting me a few times, small grunts and shrieks of pain leaving my lips with every hit he landed on me.

He threw my against the fences, my head pounding in pain now, a bruise around my eye and at my cheek, as my mouth was bleeding.

I spit blood out of mouth and forced myself back up, going to punch him but he's quick, grabbing me by my waist and flipping me upside down.

My legs wrap around his neck, completely turning myself in his hold and landing on my feet while still having a tight hold on him, throwing him to the ground.

He suddenly moves and charges for me, crouching, grabbing me by my thighs and putting me on his shoulders, as I threw myself back and brought him down with me, tightening my legs around his neck.

He got up, standing up straight as if this would stop me, but I quickly grabbed the fence above us, only tightening my grip on his neck.

A smirk fell back onto my lips as he struggled in my grip, knowing I had won, as his body goes limp, my grip loosening, letting him go.

He fell to the ground, dead, red from the suffocation, as I let go and landed on my feet, looking around as every man that stood around the ring chanted my name.

I was undefeated.

But, from the corner of my eye, I could see the unsettling look on Jace's expression.

-

I sat alone, holding a drink in my hand after the fight, not having healed my wounds yet.

I stared ahead of me, exhaling.

My head turned when someone sat next to me, seeing Jace, who was eyeing my appearance, "Why haven't you healed yet?"

"Well- let's see, I don't have my stele." I began, sipping the burning alcohol, "And I don't want to talk to my father."

"You could've easily asked one of those members to heal you-" Jace recalled what I've done many times since we've arrived here, "What're you thinking about?"

"Nothing." I looked away.

Jace already knew what had been on my mind, looking down at his hands, "I miss them too."