in spite of the unusual atmosphere, atlas somehow managed to make her chuckle. it was a genuine sound of amusement. she knew he had a strange sense of humour but she didnât have the chance to find it suitable by now, he would usually say something like this in the middle of a fight, since they were always fighting, and she wouldnât be in the mood for a joke. but right now, it came right in time. âyou do look like damsel in distress from time to time, if i am to be honest,â she joked back, lightly teasing him. that was not true, they both knew it, but it did lighten up her mood. this cabin felt so intimate, so intense, she couldnât explain what was going on but his short comment was surely welcome. âyou can have the hero title if you want, itâs not like i am going to tell anyone that i saved both of us. we will find some other explanation as for how did we won, we have to tell the exact number of opponents because otherwise, they will consider it irrelevant. so i can call you my hero in front of everyone, as embarrassing as it might sound, and youâre free to tell everyone that i was nothing but a lady who found herself in a dangerous situation. it works just fine for me.â but she doubted that he would ever accept to switch roles in this. they were both too proud to claim somebody elseâs work, they will have to find some other lie. and then it hit her. they had to lie. âwait, you canât lie. okay, we canât use that story but iâm pretty sure youâve mastered the art of deception by now, havenât you?â
she silently prayed that he did, despite already knowing it in her heart.
for some reason she could never name, all she wanted to do ever since she came to london a few years ago was to impress him. nobody could tell why, not even her. maybe it was due to him underestimating her seconds after seeing her for the first time. oh, she remembered that day so well. the way she said goodbye to her moter and addressed a formal salute to her father, only to find herself in london moments after. the greeting committee wasnât exactly how she imagined it to be, atlas didnât seem happy to see that she was the one that interrupted his training sessions. it wasnât her fault, after all. she never asked arthur to assign him to greet her but he did find it suitable that londonâs best soldier greets their guest. there, she said it. or more like thought it. he was at the top of the list. but she didnât want to admit it back then. instead, she acted like her arrogant self and read his file while in his presence, then threw it away like some meaningless paper. what a nice way to behave, alexandra. she couldnât blame it on her youth, she had always been too proud of herself.
âfire messages might be too dangerous. besides, i donât think there is any paper here.â somehow, she managed to forget that he had a parabatai who was probably worried sick by now. she would have been the same if she had been linked to peter for life. the truth is that it wouldâve been pretty useful to always know how he feels. however, it was not the time to think about it, they were on enemy territory. âwe wouldnât want envoys of the clave roaming around this place and questioning us, would we? as much as i hate to say it, i donât think you will be able to reach her by the time we get to london. canât she feel that youâre okay now? safe?â the last thing she wanted right now was for him to think that she couldnât care less about his parabatai. no, that shouldnât happen, not when they are starting not to hate each other as much as they would usually do. she couldnât understand their bond, she never experienced it but she knew that it was a holy union that meant even more than family. maybe she would have a parabatai too if she werenât such a lonely person. she had never been fond of teamwork, she would rather do things in her very own way but there were many times when she would feel good while cooperating with people that meant a lot to her. like peter and pandora. besides, who would be able to handle everything she goes through? a parabatai would know every time she is sad, angry, disappointed. she was an ocean of emotions, always switching from one to another. if she couldnât understand herself, how could she expect someone else to do it? impossible.
as if her cheeks werenât rosy already, he had to say something like this. she thought he knew that sharing the bed, as intimate as it may sound, wouldnât mean anything. they both needed to rest for a while and the hardwood floor wasnât their best option. âdonât worry, i wonât invade your personal space.â but looking at that tiny bed, it was hard to believe. still, it was the only bed this cabin had to offer and alexandra couldnât help but wonder where would valentineâs guests sleep while they were here? maybe he didnât have any. a cabin in the woods is not the best place for a meeting but evil plans can be born anywhere, it shouldnât surprise her. she let out a sigh, wondering if this is how people feel when she is being stubborn. she never understood how hard it can be for the other person. until now. she had to find a way to make him lie in bed. âi donât intend to protect you from the floorboard but it still doesnât mean that i will let you stay here. you donât want to do it in turns, you donât want to share it. how am i even supposed to convince you to move there? iâm also quite convinced that once you try the bed, you wonât want to ever get up again soâŠâ but did she really want him to move? it would mean that all this.. thing would be gone. the warmth, the confusion, the strange feeling. it has been a while since alexandra shared the bed with someone, in a complete different way of course. everybody told her that she should pay more attention to her love life but she couldnât do it. she couldnât get attached to anyone. casual sex wasnât something she would do, although she did enjoy the company of a special seelie once. she was afraid that she might find such comfort in somebodyâs arms that it would leave her vulnerable. exposed. she couldnât afford it. if she gave in, she would be lost forever. she had so many things to do, so many goals to reach and milestones to pass, she couldnât give in to this sort of pleasures. this had nothing to do with atlas, she would never touch him in that way. it was way too much. she couldnât deny that he was handsome, definitely not a common face, and there was also this thing that she felt right now, but it was not love. it couldnât be. love felt different. there was no way they could ever be friends, let alone something more. nope, not in this lifetime. whatever she felt right now was due to blood. blood calling for blood. nothing more.
alexandraâs grip on his hand tightened when he called her family royalty. âit may look like it but trust me, you donât want to know what happens behind closed doors. everything is for show, my father makes sure the name of our family will remain unstained. but truly, just because he is part of the family makes it miserable.â she has said more than enough. family business was not something that should be discussed with anyone. yes, she was proud of her surname and she intended to leave a legendary legacy behind but she had to clean her fatherâs mess before she could do anything. and it will take some time. âeverything is not what it seems but you already knew that. there is no such thing as a picture perfect family.â that was the cruel truth. she swore to herself not to make her parentsâ mistakes but could she find a significant one that would do the same thing? probably not. maybe it was better for her to stay like this, maybe she was better off being alone. it was safe. nobody could break her heart, there was nobody that could make her weak just like her mother was. blind for love. she refused to let herself be caged by a man, she would rather die than to let this happen. how could she trust men if she thought most of them are just like her father? liars, cheaters, opportunists. careless cold-hearted machines that know nothing but to seduce a woman, fool her with their pretty lies and trap her for the rest of her life. no, she will never get married, thatâs for sure. nobody could change her mind about it. it was out of question.
âi can be afraid of myself. which i already am, by the way,â she explained herself. âi donât think that glowing and moving so fast is everything my angel blood can do and if i canât control it, it kinda scares me. i canât rely on something i do not know. today was the best example for it. you told me that it was going to be okay but you knew we were both going to end up dead. i had no idea something will trigger in me and it will be our salvation. i couldnât trust it. what if it wonât help me next time iâm in danger? there are many things to be afraid of.â she had always been afraid of the unknown, thatâs why she tried to act like there was nothing she had no idea about. she would spend days reading about the shadow world, how did she not stumble across angel blooded shadowhunters? maybe it was because she never read myths. she knew almost everything there is to know about the world they live in. but it didnât make her life less scary. however, this angel thing was terrifying her. âtell me,â she bluntly said. she had to know the truth, no matter what it meant. âi need to know.â and there she was. vulnerable. once again. in spite of promising herself never to be vulnerable in front of any man, it didnât look like she was doing a great job out of it. he saw her crying twice. he saw what her blood can do. he saw her fears. he saw everything. âiâm not saying that you being different is a bad thing. i just..,â but could she say the truth? âi have to be ordinary. because if iâm not, it would mean iâm privileged. i donât want to be remembered as being outstanding because of my special bloodline. it sounds silly, i know it does, but itâs something i will never explain to anyone. this is all i can tell you about it.â looks like she was honest, after all. of course she couldnât tell him the whole truth. she would never tell anyone about the pressure of being a skycrest. she had to extend her boundaries, to achieve things that nobody else will ever be able to. she had to become a legend. not only for herself, but also to prove her father that he was wrong about her. she wasnât just a spoiled child who had no interest in doing her job, no. she was way more than that. and she had to work her ass off to prove this to the entire world. it was no easy task but it was her lifegoal. and she could never talk about it to someone. it was too private.
alexandra freezed. for a second, she thought that maybe she didnât hear him well. but she did. that could only mean that he was feeling it too. silly girl, how could he not? he wouldâve pulled away by now if he didnât. her heart definitely skipped a beat earlier. actually, it was probably not beating anymore. it wasnât rushed, as any other moment like this should be. it was something out of a fairytale, of a myth. unbelievable. indescribable. inescapable. she wasnât used to any of this but for once in her life, it felt like the right thing to do. she had no doubt about it. there was something in the way his skin felt while it was touching hers that made her forget about everything. her past, her mistakes, her fears, everything. she nodded her head, thinking that breaking the silence would ruin everything. it felt like a sacred moment that could never be explained. slowly, without a second thought, her body moved closer to his and she was now resting her head on his chest. he gave her this feeling of serenity, safety, as if nothing could ever hurt her again. as if the world didnât exist outside this cabin. it was something addicting, something you would never want to end. something that is supposed to last a lifetime.Â
her laughter was equally sweet and unexpected. slowly, very slowly, his eyes had adjusted to the blackness staining every corner of the cabin. atlas could make out the silhouettes of dusty shelves, leaves strewn across the floor, a broken pane in the window, but he couldnât find a place for her laughter here. happy noises like hers did not belong in cabin as cursed as this one. this was a place of evil, of death and destruction, and yet he felt more safe here than he could remember feeling in ages. why? he couldnât quite work it out. in a sense, he knew that it was because of her, but whether it was because of the way that she had protected him in the forest or the skill sheâd shown while healing him, he couldnât be sure. with that in mind, perhaps he was a damsel in distress. âoh do i?â he asked, raising an eyebrow in question. a faint smirk pulled across his lips. he doubted it, he was far too tattooed, too broad shouldered, to be compared to the dainty princesses that mundanes adored in picture books and movies. prince charming would surely be disappointed with the angry, bitter damsel. but if he had not been a damsel in distress, atlas had been a person in distress before. heâd been rescued by the very capable arthur rosedale from a dead mother and a dragon-like father, and was trained to fight his own battles. there, in the london institute, he had learned to slay his own demons. or he had until sheâd come along.Â
âno.â he replied plainly. atlas wouldnât have minded going back to arthur, with alexandra in tow, with a story of how heâd rescued her and had brought her back to the institute to receive her atonement. such a story would be entirely fabricated though, and atlas was not one to steal anotherâs victory. he would find his own success, he didnât need to rob her. atlas chuckled briefly in response to her question. honestly, how could she ask a question like that with a straight face? of course he had mastered the art of deception. he wasnât necessarily as skilled in it as his mother had been, he had never been as skillful with his words, but he was skilled enough to trick most. admittedly, rosedale was clever. he had known atlas since he was a child and had seen him grow into a bumbling child, tripping over himself when trying to lie, into the deceptive pain in the ass that heâd become. âarthur isnât as easy to fool as most,â as her, he thought, âbut thereâs an art in telling just enough of a story.â the best lie wasnât really a lie, it was simply the willful exclusion of certain facts. "itâll go like this, we will tell him how many there were, how hard we fought, and that despite all odds we made it out relatively unscathed. if arthur presses me to be sure, i can tell him that itâs the truth. nothing but the truth.â he shrugged. âand if he asks how we won, you tell him whatever lie you need to get by, iâll nod, and we ought to be able to get away with it.â the closer she stuck to the truth in the latter part, the easier it would be for him to agree if arthur asked, but heâd find a way to go along with what she said regardless.Â
she really would kill him. atlas closed his eyes and sighed. guilt tugged at his chest, a reminder of just who heâd left behind, but there was nothing he could do now. heâd acted recklessly, admittedly heâd done so to make sure that no one else was hurt, but he knew that angelique wouldnât take well to his excuse. âyup. sheâs definitely going to kill me,â he muttered. alexandra was right, fire messages were too dangerous at the time being, would likely summon the clave, but he still should find a way to pass the word on. he tried his damnedest to send his feeling of comfort, of relaxation, of peace over the parabatai bond, but if angelique was upset he had a feeling that she wouldnât pay it much mind. such feelings could easily be attributed to the final moments of oneâs life or some drug. âangelique has probably already forced a half dozen nelphim out of bed to help her hunt me down.â a faint, fond smile pulled at the corners of his lips. âif weâre not back by tomorrow, youâd better believe sheâll have an army.â all the better to kill him with, perhaps, but he was proud of her. there was something about her strength, about her unwillingness to take no for an answer, that made atlas love her all the more. he had always loved strong people, people that wouldnât back down from a fight, and his parabatai was fearless.Â
âyou wonât invade my personal space?â he raised an eyebrow questioningly. âin that bed? little as you are, i find it hard to believe that you and i wouldnât have to get rather... personal.â admittedly, things had gotten a bit personal here on the ground as well. her fingers grazed the skin that had been wounded just moments before, the other hand touched on his, and he found it rather difficult to meet her gaze. this situation was beginning to feel a bit too intimate. here they were, in the middle of a grand forest, in a little cabin with a single bed. âwhy donât you go sleep up there if youâre so adamant about it? iâm quite sure, given our history, that you donât want me in the same bed as you.â that much he was fairly sure of. or was he? she couldnât seem to keep her hands off of him at present, and he would have been lying if he said he didnât like the feeling. atlas frowned at himself. what was wrong with him? he should have left her dead here in the forest. let the wolves, or the renegade, or whatever other beasts lived out there swallow her whole. instead, he was trying to decide whether he ought to crawl into bed beside her. truly, heâd have thought himself mad if heâd tried to explain this situation to himself a week ago. âi am perfectly fine right here. if you feel charitable, youâre welcome to pass down a blanket, but i assure you that iâve slept on far dirtier floors in colder places. i have no interest in sleeping on that musty old thing anyway.â atlas wrinkled his nose. what a foolish conversation to have with someone that he considered his enemy, or someone that he had considered his enemy, or... whatever the hell she was. he blew out an annoyed breath. things had become muddled in his mind, and despite his best attempts to blame it on the loss of blood, he knew that there was something deeper. blood, be it the loss of blood or his bloodline, wasnât the reason that their hands rested together on the floor, or why he let her touch the smooth skin where there should have been an ugly wound.Â
he listened quietly as she explained the damage that her father had done to their family, and decided quietly that it must have been a trait inherent in fathers. her father and his, both wanted to be sure that their family names remained honorable and proud. in her case, that meant that she had to be strong, and in his it meant that he shouldnât have bothered breathing. a faint crease formed between his brows. âno, of course i know that,â he replied softly, âthere is no perfect family, but...â atlas had started, but he didnât dare finish his thought. wasnât having a family at all better than being without one? even if his parents had driven him half mad, had fought with him or pressured him to be better, he felt that it would be better than the nothingness heâd had. but then, he thought, it was easy to idealize something that heâd never had. his lips twitched slightly to one side, pursing, and he managed to glance at her briefly. just as heâd started to say something however, started to try to form some apology for what sheâd been through, he thought of his parabatai. alexandra had always managed to get out of trouble because of her familyâs status in the new york institute. whether sheâd had a hard family life or not, she certainly had perks. his gaze fell. he couldnât manage an apology. instead, he squeezed her hand back slightly and let his head rest one one of his own shoulders. âi donât know if i will ever understand families. perfect or imperfect, theyâre a bloody mystery to me.â heâd never find out. his family was dead, or dead to him, and he didnât see much point in having a family of his own. even if he found someone, fathers always disappointed. he didnât want to disappoint anyone else.Â
atlas paused briefly, considering his parentâs words. strange, she seemed to know something more about her bloodline than sheâd let on previously. âyou think thereâs more?â he asked curiously. as far as he was concerned, he could feel what she was, but he hadnât the slightest idea what she could do. if she said that she could sprout wings, heâd have to believe her until he was proven wrong. âhow could you possibly know?â he huffed. âmoments ago you didnât believe that you have angelâs blood, and now you claim that thereâs more to your abilities.â it was all he could do to stop himself from claiming that he just realized that he could make portals and that he was actually immortal. perhaps if he could lie, his blood didnât take well to sarcasm. as for whether or not it would trigger if she found herself in trouble again, he thought that she should be able to find answers to that. âyou said it happened to you before, didnât you?â he asked. âthere must be something similar between that time and this one, some sort of common thread. it could be as simple as your life being at risk, i suppose, but learning why it happens is important.â first, so she knew whether or not it would activate in certain situations, and second, it would very likely help her control her inherent abilities.Â
âyou really donât remember?â in truth, it seemed hard to believe. she had been so present, so powerful, that he figured sheâd remember it better. instead, she seemed entirely blank. had that person even been her? âyou started to glow.â heâd murmured something that only the soon to be dead would ever think to say, that they would be alright, and sheâd changed. âit was bright, so bright.â honestly, it had been hard to see. sheâd moved so quickly, so gracefully, so brightly, that it was like trying to watch the sun move against the sky. his eyes had struggled to adjust. âyou broke the chains like they were nothing, and then you attacked them. it was so fast, i donât think any of them had time to be afraid.â he hoped that this might comfort her, might help her see that their deaths had been quick and relative painless. âthe man that had me didnât even have a chance to react by the time youâd found us and then you were fucking running away.â he shot her a look. he still wasnât particularly thrilled with her for doing so, but it was hard to stay angry with her after all she had done for him. there was more, more detail, more that he could tell, but he didnât think that more information about how sheâd killed their enemies would be particularly helpful or welcome given just how unsettled she seemed about herself.Â
she had to be ordinary. he frowned. she was incredibly powerful, in part because of the training sheâd done, but also because of this blood running through her veins, and yet she didnât want it. for some reason that he couldnât quite explain, it stung. it wasnât as if he was an angel, that they shared some common bloodline that sheâd thrown away, but he still found himself a bit taken aback. one couldnât be talented if they were of mixed heritage. so what was he? atlas shrugged. âyou are privileged.â he reminded her curtly. âbecause of your blood, but not necessarily the angel blood. youâre a skycrest.â atlas shook his head. âyou can still be great. what does your blood matter if you use it to help the institute? if you use it to protect people? thatâs what nelphim are meant to do. if you are more effective because of your name or your blood or your weapon, what does it matter?â a hero didnât have to be regular to be a hero. he frowned. or maybe he was making excuses for himself. he wanted to be someone proud and powerful, someone that others envied or aspired to be, and he couldnât be if his heritage negated that. he felt frustrated with her as much as he did with himself. sometimes, as sheâd said, he would have just liked to be ordinary. an ordinary family, ordinary blood, and he would have all of the benefits that came with it. not a perfect life, but maybe a peaceful one.Â
he was a warrior, harsh and biting, but oh how he longed for a tender touch. much as he felt frustrated with her, and that heâd disliked her before, atlas found himself giving into her now. where her touch had first startled him, it was calming now. he didnât want her to leave him. those warm fingers peace and security, if only for a brief moment. so heâd asked her to stay. it was silly, he shouldnât have asked, but rather than laugh at him, she did. what came as more of a surprise was the way that her head tucked against his chest. he blinked down at her, unsure and surprised by the sudden closeness, but after a moment he let himself relax. with slow grace, he lowered himself entirely to the floor and let the warmth of her body seep into him. he thought to say something, but what was there to say? it seemed that any move he made in this moment would end this and though he was still trying to figure out exactly what he thought of her, he had desperately missed tender touches like these. not romantic, but gentle. atlas let his eyes drift closed and let himself relax into her.Â
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