Shadowhunters Jace Herondale Novels & Stories

A loud animalistic growl escapes from his throat, my life seems to flash before my eyes as he cast his red burning gaze at me. Kael was right, Talon Aspen is the Klux, the killer and obviously not Alvarez's son and right now, the fierce predator seems to have found his prey and it is none other than me, Lilac Hirav-Aapen. I might die tonight. ~

Winnie said woefully. She peeked out from Jordan's embrace, her face red from crying. It made her look utterly pitiable and endearing. "His name is Xander Wilcox. He's not Alpha Jordan! Please don't live in the past anymore, okay?" Her words were gentle, yet they pinned me with the label of "insanity". The Gamma's gaze finally settled on me, holding a mix of scrutiny, suspicion, and wary caution toward a "pitiful mad she-wolf". "Luna Sasha, please calm down," the Gamma said.

If he was after Zara… A chill, colder than any blade, ran down my spine. I skidded around the corner, nearly plowing into a toppled-over bookshelf, and my lungs burned. She wasn’t in the west wing. Not in the classrooms. Not in the stairwells. Then— A flicker. A silhouette. At the far end of the courtyard, under the fractured glass ceiling where daylight spilled in like shards of fire, I saw them. Zara. Her hair was flying wild as she ducked behind one of the broken columns, Jace right beside her, his shoulders broad and his body angled like a shield. He was bleeding, panting, his claws out, eyes glowing that furious silver-blue that screamed wolf losing control.

There they are. Drake, is standing tall, protective, his wolf’s strength simmering beneath his skin. Nicole, fragile and glowing, her unborn child radiating a strange, potent energy that I can almost taste. And Hazel… the witch. The one who shattered the cage of my prison and let me walk free again. A low growl builds in my throat, vibrating deep in my chest. So it is true. They are all here. All gathered neatly in one place. I step forward, claws sinking into the soil, my weight pressing down like a shadow over the clearing. Their gazes snap to me, wary, watchful. Hazel moves quickly, faster than I expect. Her hands lift, her voice sharp with a spell.

Somewhere inside, the woman who'd killed my mother, enslaved my father, and spent decades tearing apart everything I loved was counting down the minutes until I walked through that door alone. But I wasn't alone. Jace stood beside me in the shadows, his hand wrapped around mine, his eyes steady gold in the dark. Celeste was on the roof. Helena had agents at every exit. And my father, the man Diane had controlled for seven years, was watching from across the street with a notebook full of her psychological weaknesses. "She'll know you brought backup," I said. "She always knows." "Let her." Jace's voice was quiet, layered with something ancient and controlled. "She spent years making me afraid

His eyes widened in shock. “No way,” a girl whispered. My name stood at the top of the board, number 2. Alexander at number 1. •∆: Monroe Jordan - Science - 49.5 It seemed more like a coincidence to see Xander’s name at the top than real. “So, you're a Monroe,” a sharp voice cut through. “No wonder no one knew you. We never expected you to come from such–,” Angela shrugged nonchalantly. Is she everywhere or just stalking me?

“Go, prepare my dark shadow dagger. Get me more about this Edith Walson.” I responded as I walked away angrily and anticipating that day when I will put an end to the one man who keeps causing lot of havocs. “Can't you make peace with him instead of going up for a fight?” Snow Darcy pleaded as she walked into the room. “Make peace? I am Jace Steele, an original and I cannot be killed.” “An original, because you are a hybrid? Huh?” Her question shocked me as I squinted my eyes a bit.

Their eyes go bright and wet and distant, the way wolves look when the moon is too close and they remember it owns their blood. Jace drags the thrower into the open. He’s young, a courier from the southern farms. Desperation streaking his scent. He tries to make a sound. It comes out a gurgle under Jace’s hand. “Spare-” Eli tries to say. “Don’t talk,” Hazel hisses at him, voice gone steady calm, that strange gentle thing she saves for the exact second the disaster is underway. I put my palm over Eli’s hand where it covers the knife and press down to stop the blood from pulsing harder under panic. His blood scalds my skin. It coats the grooves of my palm. Maps my lifeline in red.

The Hunter attacked the said vampire with a kick and he dodged it hitting him back making the hunter land on the ground and did a Chinese stand up, hitting the Vampires by his neck with his leg as he landed on the floor. He moved close to him to finish him but the Vampire surprised him with a kick, he dodged it and aimed his claws at his heart which unluckily for the Vampire penetrated and the hunter finished him up by twisting his hand and dragging part of his heart out. Elder Jace was fighting with Nightwalker and I will admit Nightwalker is like a shadow in the afternoon what if it is night. He is very damn fast. And Elder Jace seems to be reading his movement around him.

But the heir’s stare was steady, unyielding. “My mother was of the Shadowblood line,” he said at last. “I inherited… this.” He gestured vaguely to the darkness curling at his boots. “I didn’t know what it meant until the Creed found me.” “And now?” she asked. “Now I know they’ll never stop coming.” A knock at the door broke the moment. One of the scouts stepped in, snow melting from his cloak. “My lady. You need to hear this.” The heir straightened. “Speak.”