Tracy Coulter

Jace Harondale

Then she reached for his hand. "I love you too." Jace stared at their joined hands. Something inside him broke. Not painfully. Beautifully. Like a wall collapsing after years of keeping the sun out. He leaned forward until his forehead touched hers. "Don't leave me." The words escaped before he could stop them. Tracy's expression changed. She understood. Not the words. The wound beneath them. "I won't." "Promise." "I promise." Jace closed his eyes. "Then I'll spend the rest of my life believing you." He didn't know then that someday, those words would become the thing that hurt the most. One year later Love didn't die all at once. That was the lie people told themselves. It didn't collapse dramatically. There was no single moment when the heart simply stopped. It weakened. Quietly. One unanswered question. One unexplained absence. One secret. One lie. One choice made when the person you loved wasn't there to defend themselves. Then another. And another. Until eventually you looked at the person sleeping beside you and realized you no longer knew who they were. For Jace, it began with a mission. A simple mission. At least, that was what the Clave called it. Retrieve a stolen artifact. Enter an abandoned Institute. Destroy the demon nest. Return before dawn. Tracy had objected. "I don't like it." Jace fastened his weapons. "You don't like most things." "I like you." He paused. She crossed the room. "That's why I'm saying I don't like it." He touched her waist. "It's three hours." "Jace." "I'll be back." Her eyes searched his. Something in her expression made him uneasy. "What?" "I had a dream." "About the mission?" She nodded. "What happened?" "You died." Jace smiled. "That's a terrible dream." "I'm serious." "So am I." He kissed her forehead. "I always come back." She caught his wrist before he could leave. "Don't lie to me." His smile disappeared. "I won't." "Promise?" Jace looked into her eyes. The irony would have been unbearable if either of them had known. "I promise." Then he left. And Tracy watched the door close behind him. She didn't know that Jace had already lied. Not about dying. About something else. Something far worse. The mission should have ended at two in the morning. Jace returned at six. Alone. Tracy was waiting in the training room. She hadn't slept. The moment he entered, she knew. Something had changed. Not because he was injured. He wasn't. Not because he looked guilty. He didn't. It was worse. He looked calm. Too calm. "You're late." "I know." "You said three hours." "The mission changed." "Why?" Jace removed his weapons. "Complications." "What complications?" He didn't answer. Tracy stared at him. "Jace." "I don't want to talk about it." Her heart tightened. "You always talk to me." "Not tonight." He walked past her. She caught his arm. "Did something happen?" He looked at her hand. Then at her. "Let go." Tracy slowly released him. The distance between them suddenly felt enormous. "Who was she?" Silence. Jace froze. Tracy's voice barely existed. "Who was she, Jace?" He turned. "How did you—" "I know you." His face hardened. "You don't know everything." "No." Her eyes filled with tears. "Apparently I don't." He looked away. That was answer enough. Tracy swallowed. "Did you sleep with her?" "No." The answer came too quickly. She believed him. That was the tragedy. She believed him because she loved him. "Then what happened?" Jace said nothing. Tracy waited. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. Finally she whispered: "Tell me." Jace looked at her. And for the first time since she had known him, Tracy saw something in his eyes she couldn't recognize. Fear. Not fear of losing her. Fear of being exposed. "What happened?" she repeated. Jace closed his eyes. Then he said the words that would begin the end. "I kissed her." The room went silent. Tracy didn't move. Jace looked at her. "I was angry." She laughed once. It wasn't a happy sound. "You were angry." "I made a mistake."

Eric Coulter

*His hand still pressed against the wall beside your head, his body close enough that you can feel his breath against your neck.* Good. That's good. *He tilts his face down, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks.* Because if you weren't, I might have to do something... unkind. Like let you walk away without getting what you really want. *He steps back slightly, smirking as he watches your reaction.* So, Tracy... what exactly is it you want? Or should I guess?*His smirk deepens, amusement flickering in his dark eyes as he watches you step closer. He doesn't move back—he never does. Instead, he lets you come to him, like a moth to a flame, knowing full well you'll burn yourself on the way.* "Brave little thing, aren't you?" *He leans in, his breath warm against your lips as he speaks, his voice low and edged with something dangerous.* "But don't mistake confidence for control. You think you're playing me, Tracy? You're just another pawn in a game you don't understand." *His fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your face up just enough to lock eyes with him.* "And don't pretend you don't enjoy it. The way your pulse races when I touch you. The way your breath catches when I get too close." *A slow, mocking chuckle escapes him, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw as if savoring the moment.* "Oh, Tracy. You’re not naive. You’re just… delusional. Thinking you can play with fire and not get burned." *He steps back just enough to let the air between you thicken, his expression unreadable, but his eyes sharp with something dangerously close to amusement.* "You talk about fun like it’s a choice. But you know damn well it isn’t. You come looking for me, time after time. You chase the edge, the danger, the thrill. And I let you. Because I like watching you fall apart." *His voice drops, a quiet threat wrapped in velvet.* "So don’t pretend you’re the victim here. You wanted this. You always have."*He barks out a laugh, sharp and bitter, like the sound of glass shattering.* "Big boy? Really? You think that insults me?" *His hand grips your wrist, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to remind you who's in charge. His other hand cups the back of your neck, holding you in place as he leans in until his breath ghosts over your lips.* "You're cute when you try to play tough. But let me tell you something, Tracy—" *He pauses, his grip tightening just slightly before releasing you, stepping back with a smirk that doesn't reach his eyes.* "You may not be naive. But you're still mine. And I don't share." *He turns slightly, already walking away, but not before adding, voice dripping with mockery,* "Unless you want to prove otherwise." *He stops dead in his tracks, his shoulders tensing at your words. For a second, he stands perfectly still, the silence stretching thin between you. Then, he slowly turns around, a predatory grin spreading across his face—one that looks far more dangerous than his previous smirk.* "Is that right?" *He calls out after you, his voice carrying easily through the corridor, laced with a dark, challenging undertone.* "You think you can claim me, Tracy? Bold. Very bold." *He watches your retreating figure for a long beat, his eyes tracking the sway of your hips with a calculated intensity. He doesn't rush to follow; he enjoys the hunt too much for that. He likes the idea of you thinking you've won this round.* "Don't get too comfortable with that thought!"