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Jia Penhallow did not summon people without reason.
Lydia Branwell stood before the Consul’s desk in Alicante, hands folded behind her back, posture immaculate. The Consul’s office overlooked the city of white stone, sharp angles with sunlight pouring in through tall windows. Jia’s expression, however, was anything but warm.
“Miss Branwell, I trust you know why you’re here,” Jia said.
Lydia inclined her head. “I believe so, Consul. After our last meeting I read through the archives as you asked, including all of the trial transcripts following the uprising.”
Jia nodded, acknowledging Lydia and then exhaled slowly as she gathered her thoughts.
“ Over the last three years Robert and Maryse Lightwood have been spending increasing amounts of time in Alicante. Officially, they are ‘serving the Clave.’ They somehow manage to constantly insert themselves on committees and working parties. Unofficially, though, I think they are rebuilding influence they lost when the Circle fell. And with that, I am concerned that they seek to bring back the ideology of the Circle. ”
Lydia said nothing. She didn’t need to. Although she hadn’t been born when the Circle had gained prominence, the archives had told her all she needed to know. A radical ideology that originally set out to reform the Clave but somehow morphed into a terrorist group led by Valentine Morgenstern. Their goals expanded into dismantling the Clave and the destruction of the Downworld. Valentine utilised both science and magic as he sought ways to seize control, and reading the reports had left Lydia with nightmares for weeks afterwards. The Circle had conducted grotesque experiments on Downworlders, under the guise of finding ways to neutralise their powers and all in the name of “science”. The Circle slaughtered countless warlocks, vampires and werewolves while following through with their genocidal goals.
Shadowhunter society itself also suffered, with many families divided in their support either for or against the aims of the Circle. Many Shadowhunters had died, though no where close to the number of the Downworlders that had been killed, nor had their deaths been as brutal.
Eventually, and with some support from the Downworld, Morgenstern was brought down and the Circle was dismantled. Morgenstern had been killed in the final battle and there had been punishments handed out to the some of his followers, but many, such as the Lightwoods, were welcomed back into Shadowhunter society. People just wanted to forget and move on, but the divisions in Shadowhunter society though had not been entirely erased, just buried.
“I’m curious as to how ” Jia continued, “the New York Institute remains… unusually effective. Because of this they are able to carry on in Alicante, rather than get pulled into the day to day running of the institute.” She paused and wandered over to her large window, pondering on her last point.
She turned back, eyes sharp. “It’s too effective, considering its heads are almost never there.”
“You believe someone else is running it,” Lydia said.
“I know someone else is running it,” Jia replied. “Their eldest son, Alec Lightwood.”
Lydia’s brows drew together slightly. “He’s very young.”
“He is, but he’s also very capable,” Jia said. “Strategic reports, patrol efficiency, disciplinary resolution. I’ve been looking and for the last few years, every meaningful decision traces back to him. And yet he holds no real authority. His parents retain all power while carrying none of the responsibility.”
Jia’s fingers tightened on the back of her chair. “That alone would concern me, but because of it, it is giving Robert and Maryse Lightwood the freedom to turn their attention elsewhere.”
Lydia’s voice was quiet. “Rebuilding the Circle.” Not said as a question, but rather a bleak statement.
“No proof,” Jia admitted. “But patterns. Conversations that stop when others enter the room. Funding movements that don’t align with Clave priorities. Old allies resurfacing.”
She met Lydia’s gaze squarely. “I need to know what is happening in New York. And I need to know whether their children are collaborating with their parents or being used as shields.”
Lydia straightened. “You want an inspection.”
“Yes” Jia said. “Go to New York. Observe. Listen. Find out where Alec Lightwood and his siblings allegiance lays and report back only to me.”
A pause.
“And Lydia?” Jia added. “Look for an opportunity to force Robert and Maryse back to New York. We have a better chance of them slipping up there than we do here in Alicante. They won’t have the cover of their committees and projects to hide their other activities.”
⸻
Alec Lightwood learned early on that tone mattered more than content.
He stood at attention in the strategy room as his parents tore apart his latest patrol schedule, their voices precise, relentless.
“You’ve overcommitted personnel again,” Maryse said, tapping the datapad with a perfectly manicured nail. “Isabelle should not be handling weapons logistics and field rotations.”
“Izzy volunteered,” Alec said carefully. “And the forge backlog was affecting response times.”
Maryse’s lips thinned. “You indulge her too much.”
Isabelle, seated at the far end of the table, went very still.
“And Jace,” Robert cut in, not looking at his son. “There’s no reason for him to be on three consecutive high-risk patrols. Reckless.”
Jace laughed shortly. “You say that like you’ve been on patrol recently.”
The air snapped tight.
“Watch your tone,” Robert said coldly.
Alec stepped in immediately. “That was my decision. Jace’s skill set matched the threat profile.”
“And if he’d been injured?” Maryse demanded.
“Then I would have adjusted,” Alec replied. “As I always do.”
Maryse studied Alec with a look of disdain and ever present disappointment. There was no maternal interest or heaven forbid concern for the burden she was forcing her eldest son to carry. Alec had always known that having children was simply a way of fulfilling their duty to the Clave, an organisation that valued anyone who increased their numbers. His parents had made it very clear that they had no love for him or his siblings, that they were tools for the elder Lightwoods to use as they saw fit and nothing more.
You think yourself indispensable.”
Alec’s jaw tightened. “I think the Institute needs to function.”
Robert finally looked at him. “You’re efficient. I’ll give you that. But efficiency is not leadership. You lack discipline.”
Alec swallowed. He’d heard this before. Any praise was immediately cut down with criticism. It no longer burned in the way it did when he was younger. He had realised that nothing would ever be good enough for them, even if they were around enough to make any actual observations, which they weren’t. They weren’t really criticising him, or Isabelle or Jace, because they didn’t spend enough time with them to actually see how they behaved. Alec was also smart enough to know that he must be doing a pretty good job or the Clave would be breathing down his parents necks, forcing them to spend more time in the institute if things were going wrong. So, no, he no longer took what they said to heart, but that didn’t take away the anger that he felt as he had to bite his tongue.
“We’re leaving for Alicante,” Maryse said briskly. “Do not embarrass us.”
These weren’t idle words. He knew to his own cost what punishments would be exacted for disagreeing with his parents, no matter how good of a job he was doing. Reputation was all important to the elder Lightwoods, and their children were only tolerated as much as they helped improve their standing. He didn’t even want to consider how bad it would be if they felt embarrassed by him.
After they left, Isabelle rose abruptly, pacing and her body rippling with tension. “I hate them! One day shes going to say something and I’m going to snap and plunge my stele in the hole where her heart should be.”
“Put it on the calendar,” Jace muttered. “I’ll bring popcorn.”
Alec stayed seated, staring at the table where his parents had stood, fingers pressed flat against the cool surface. His mind already working how to make minor changes that would appease his parents but still allow for the safe running of patrols. If he allowed himself, Alec would laugh at the fact that Maryse and Robert were in fact the biggest obstacle in his role. Demons, by comparison, were a piece of cake. But like with most things in life that could have brought a smile to his face, Alec denied himself the opportunity. He had found that it was just easier to carry on, happiness just too far out of his reach to even hope for.
⸻
Three hours after Robert and Maryse Lightwood departed through the Institute gates, the wards flared. Alec was in ops, halfway through the reallocating of patrol coverage when the alarm chimed.
He looked up sharply, and addressing the security officer who was guarding the standing portal. “Have we had any arrival notifications I’ve not been informed about?”
The guard tensed and said a sharp “No Sir!” Everyone in Ops went on high alert, their weapons out and ready to respond.
The portal opened and outstepped a woman in a Clave administrative uniform. Her posture calm, eyes already taking everything in. She nodded approvingly at the response her unannounced portal had provoked. The Institute seemed to have reoriented itself around her presence. Everyone was ready to react to any danger, and yet waited until they could assess if there was a threat. This was unexpected and impressive. She had been to other institutes, ones that should have been on high alert because of their threat profile, who had had no where near as good of a response.
“Alexander Lightwood?” she asked looking around the room.
Alec stood. “Yes.” He looked at the stranger, his gaze assessing and wary.
“I’m Lydia Branwell,” she said. “Envoy of the Consul.”
Across the room, Isabelle swore softly. Jace’s humor vanished in an instant.
“May we speak privately Mr Lightwood?”
Alec nodded and indicated for her to follow him to his office, located just off the main Operations room.
As he walked, Alec felt the ground shift beneath his feet, even as his training locked him into place. As soon as they were in his office and the door closed, Alec turned to the envoy, and did his best to speak in with a calm, measure tone. “I wasn’t informed that you were coming, Ms Branwell. My parents have just left for Alicante.”
“I am aware,” Lydia replied, studying him with open interest. “Which makes this an excellent time to observe how the New York Institute truly operates.”
She paused, then added, quietly deliberate, “Under your command.”
Alec well schooled in keeping his emotions in check, did not show the flurry of different thoughts which ran through his mind. The fact that she was here to specifically observe him could be an opportunity or a danger and he didn’t have enough information to form an opinion.
“Welcome to New York,” he said. “I’m happy to accommodate you in anyway I can.”
“Before we begin,” she said, “you are not to inform your parents of my presence here.”
Alec looked at her, confusion flickering briefly across his face. “They weren’t notified?”
“No,” Lydia said. “And they are not to be.”
Alec straightened. “They expect updates. If I don’t report—”
“This inspection is conducted under direct authority of the Consul,” Lydia said evenly. “Your obligation is to me.” The words landed with weight.
Alec’s fingers tightened behind his back as he stood at parade rest. “They won’t accept that.”
“They don’t have to,” Lydia replied.
His parents would be furious that an observation had been instigated without their knowledge or approval, one that they would not hear about until it was over. He knew no matter the outcome,they would turn that fury on him. But… the fact that his parents had been kept out of the loop had other implications which he couldn’t yet make sense of. So until he did, unease, hope, fear, all sat tangled together and heavy in the pit of his stomach.
He hesitated, then asked quietly, “When they do find out, later, what happens?”
Lydia met his gaze. “Then they will answer to the Consul. Not you.”
Alec nodded once. He didn’t press further, but the realization had taken root. Whatever was unfolding, it wasn’t just a normal inspection and his parents were at the center of it.
And with no other fanfare they got to work. Lydia asked to see all of the patrol logs and reports for the previous 8 weeks as a place to start. Alec also included in all of the other information he thought would be helpful such as training schedules, scientific analysis of sites with extra ordinary high demon infestations, plus inventory and stock records, showing how the Clave budget was being spent. It was amazingly detailed and efficient, and it was abundantly clear that Alec Lightwood had nothing to hide. Lydia’s understanding of just what had been going on in the New York Institute was beginning to develop, and it wasn’t a picture that was going to benefit Robert and Maryse.
Lydia spent the next five days reading and watching. She did not interfere, she did not command or make any input what so ever. She observed, she spoke with every team leader, in every department and also a number of general staff.
She watched Alec rise before dawn to review patrol reports and threat assessments, adjusting rotations with surgical precision. She watched him cross-reference demon sightings with mundane crime reports, identifying patterns no one else seemed to notice. She watched him cope with supply requisitions his parents had rejected, finding ways to stretch resources they should never have been short on in the first place.
She watched him prevent disasters that leaders twice his age would have struggled with. First there was the patrol that would have walked into a deadly ambush if Alec hadn’t noticed a discrepancy in intel.
Then there was the weapons failure that would have killed someone if Isabelle hadn’t quietly reforged half the Institute’s stock with materials Alec had sourced around official channels. Another instance of his parents refusing his requisitions without any reason or understanding of “their” people actually needed.
Then there was a training exercise Jace aborted because he caught a flaw in the safety wards seconds before activation. The trainees, all young and eager, only just having received their first rune, who would have died had Alec not insisted that all safety protocols be double checked before any exercise commenced.
Lydia had visited dozens of institutes around the world in her role, and none of them ran like this. Where the overt neglect of the designated Heads should have had the institute and its people on their knees, but here in New York, due to the herculean effort of one man, the institute was thriving.
“You are doing an amazing job, made even more remarkable with the amount of compensating you have to do,” she said finally, after watching Alec rework yet another plan that would have thrown an experienced Head, let alone a nineteen-year-old Shadowhunter.
“For what?” Alec asked, not looking up.
“For absence,” Lydia said. “And neglect.”
Alec’s fingers paused over the screen.
“They’d be dead,” he said simply.
Lydia looked at him sharply. “Who?”
“The people here,” Alec replied. “If I didn’t do this. If I trusted the systems my parents left in place.” His voice was flat, not bitter, not angry, just factual.
⸻
It was on the seventh day that Lydia asked about the Downworld.
Alec froze. He knew how his parents felt about the cooperation that Alec had instigated within the New York Shadow world. He had been punished and forbidden to utilise what Alec considered to be the most effective tool they had against demons, their local allies. It hadn’t stopped him but he had learned to keep that information out of his report. He had mentioned it in passing to Lydia, just an offhand comment about intelligence near a vampire controlled district.
“You’re monitoring them closely, you’ve mapped out their territories and you seem to have access to pretty detailed information.” Lydia noted.
“They’re part of the city,” Alec said. “Ignoring them creates blind spots and that gets people killed.”
“You’ve proposed cooperation,” Lydia said, not a question.
“Yes.”
“And were denied.”
Alec’s mouth tightened. “Explicitly.”
“Why?”
“Officially? ‘Maintaining purity of Clave authority.’ Unofficially…” He trailed off.
“Unofficially?” Lydia prompted.
“They don’t trust Downworlders,” Alec said. “And they don’t trust me to interact with them.”
“Why?”
Alec met her gaze, something guarded flickering in his eyes. “Because I don’t hate them.” Alec paused for a moment, as if wondering if he should say more. He had started to trust Lydia over the days that she had been in the institute. Even though she was only observing, there was no judgment or sneering. She seemed to understand his need to keep his people safe, so he decided to take a leap of faith and carried on.
“Ignoring them doesn’t make them disappear. Cooperation would make patrols safer, allow for response times.” he said carefully. “They live in the city we are trying to protect, they are part of the city, more than we are, and for the most part they are just living their lives, not much different to the mundanes. They also have more eyes on the ground than we do, and they have more to lose if the demons gain a foothold. They don’t have an institute or a city of glass to retreat to.”
The silence that followed was thick. Lydia knew that there was more. The Alec that she had come to know over the last week, wouldn’t have just taken his parents objections, he would have tried to find work arounds.
“You disobeyed their order?” Lydia asked quietly.
Alec’ stilled for a moment but the nodded. “I did, openly at first, but they found out and I was punished for my insubordination.”
“How? I’ve seen no records to indicate any disciplinary action, no reports to the Clave regarding unsanctioned interactions?”
He didn’t answer at first, so Lydia waited. She had learned that Alec needed time to consider his responses to unexpected questions. Not to come up with an excuse or a lie, but to ensure that his explanation was clear and comprehensive. For someone who was as exceptionally good at finding loopholes and cracks he could exploit, Alec Lightwood was also surprisingly transparent and lacking in guile.
“Solitary confinement,” Alec said finally. “No weapons access. No training. Extended patrol shifts without rotation. They used the agony rune when I continued to disregard their rules concerning downworlder contact.”
Lydia went very still.
“How old were you?”
“Sixteen,” Alec said. “The first time.”
Lydia felt something cold and furious coil in her chest. “That is not discipline,” she said, voice tight. “That is abuse.”
Alec looked away. Isabelle and Jace had said the same thing, but it hadn’t mattered. It wasn’t like there was someone to report his parents too, and ultimately Alec had chosen to take the punishment, knowing he would continue to do what he thought was right, what he knew would keep his people,safe.
⸻
That evening, Lydia stood before Jia Penhallow once more. She had been submitting daily reports on her findings but now she was here to present the plan she had been developing.
“The New York Institute is operational only because Alec Lightwood has reengineered its command structure,” Lydia reported. “He has created compensatory systems to account for prolonged absence by its appointed heads and their overall neglect. They deny necessary requisitions to ensure their budget looks good, regardless of the impact on the institute. They refuse to call for assistance when it has been requested because they don’t want to leave the impression that the institute can’t cope, even when facing unprecedented demon incursions. Their only thought is what will look good on paper in Alicante.”
“And what do recommend? How do we ensure their Lightwoods are forced to return to their institute if their son is compensating for them? I’ve read your reports and I agree with your conclusion, neither he, nor his siblings are working with or even protecting Robert and Maryse. They are protecting their institute, which will make it even harder to get them to stop.”
“There is a solution,” Lydia said. “If the younger Lightwoods are temporarily reassigned, the Institute will require direct oversight. Robert and Maryse will be compelled to return.”
Jia’s eyes sharpened, she could see the possibilities that this could open up. Lydia took this as a sign to continue.
“We could frame it as a reward for such a positive inspection, one that reflects well on the elder Lightwoods and one that would ultimately benefit them and the institute. Alec and his siblings would be temporarily placed in roles that broaden their experience,” Lydia replied smoothly. “Roles that justify their absence politically.”
“As an added benefit, we could nominate who fills the 3 places, with others who were deserving an opportunity to learn with the best. “ Lydia continued. “In reality,they would be your people, working for and reporting to you. They would have access to Institute operations without alerting Robert and Maryse to an investigation.”
Jia considered this.
“In New York,” Lydia continued, “Robert and Maryse may think they control the narrative, but in reality the people there are not loyal to them. They are loyal to Alec. In Alicante, they are protected. They have their supporters that they have spent time cultivating. But they made a misstep in New York. They thought they have it locked down so they didn’t need to put in the effort to build loyalty there. They were very much mistaken. If we can engineer them back to New York, into operational leadership, we may finally have the opportunity to uncover what they’ve been doing.”
Jia nodded slowly. “We expose them by removing their shield.”
“Yes,” Lydia said.
“And if they are innocent?”
Lydia met her gaze. “Then the Institute will still benefit from oversight it has lacked for years.”
Jia exhaled, decision crystallizing. “Proceed.”
Lydia inclined her head. As she turned to leave, she allowed herself one private thought, carefully compartmentalised and one that she would never voice. It was that Alec Lightwood, who put so much effort into protecting others, should have had people protecting him. He would have never asked for such help, it probably wouldn’t even have occurred to him to do so, but she was glad that she would be able to provide it to him nonetheless.
——————-
Lydia chose her moment with care. The Institute had settled into its nighttime rhythm. The wards were humming softly, patrol teams deployed, the halls quieter than they ever were during the day. Alec was alone in his office , jacket abandoned over the back of a chair, sleeves rolled to his elbows as he reviewed casualty projections for the coming week.
He looked up when the door opened. “Your back. I thought that your meeting in Alicante meant that you had concluded your observations?” He tried to modulate his tone, but Lydia could hear the worry in his voice.
“It has finished, but I wanted to discuss the outcome with you in person,” Lydia said. “Can we speak privately.”
Alec straightened at once, pushing the tablet aside. “Of course.”
Once they closed the door to Alec’s office, Lydia sealed the room with a privacy ward. The faint shimmer of magic settled, and the weight of officialdom filled the air.
“This is a directive from the Consul,” Lydia said, her tone shifting, formal, precise. She handed him the tablet. Alec took it, eyes scanning quickly. He read the contents once, then again more slowly.
“You’re… reassigning us,” he said.
“Yes.”
“All three of us.”
“Yes.”
Alec lowered the tablet. “You can’t remove 3 senior field leaders at once.”
Lydia met his gaze steadily. “That concern is noted.”
“That’s not an answer,” Alec said, tension creeping into his voice. “There are patrol teams who rely on us. People I trained. People who..”
“who will survive,” Lydia interrupted gently, “because the Institute will once again have its appointed heads present.”
Alec froze.
“You’re forcing my parents back.”
“Yes.”
His jaw tightened. “And if they refuse?”
“They won’t,” Lydia said. “The alternative is answering to the Consul for abandoning their post.”
Alec looked away, fingers digging into the edge of the table.
“I can’t leave them unprotected,” he said quietly. “I know every weakness in this place. Every workaround. If I’m gone..”
“You’ve documented everything,” Lydia said. “Your systems. Your redundancies. I’ve ensured copies are archived.”
“That doesn’t replace judgment,” Alec replied.
“No,” Lydia agreed. “But it does end a situation where one Shadowhunter is carrying an entire Institute.”
Alec swallowed. “This isn’t about my welfare.”
Lydia didn’t deny it. “No. It’s about forcing your parents out of Alicante, and to do the job they should have been doing for the last several years.”
He nodded once, accepting that truth. Then his voice softened.
“What happens to us?”
“This isn’t a punishment Alec. It’s a reward, for you, Isabelle and Jace, recognising the outstanding job the 3 of you have done. You are are being held up as examples of what young Shadowhunters should be.” Then, understanding another fear that Alec would never voice, “This stops any retaliation against you by your parents. The message being sent is that you have done them proud, and this temporary move is a way of rewarding all of your hard work. You,” Lydia said, “will work with me. Madrid first. Strategic oversight, inter-Institute coordination. Exposure to how others do what you’ve been doing alone, while sharing your insights.”
“And Isabelle?”
“An Iron Sisters internship,” Lydia said. “Weapon design, forging theory, advanced enchantments.”
Alec’s eyes flickered first with surprise, then pride. He knew how much Isabelle would enjoy this and how it would have never been possible if left up to their parents.
“And Jace?”
“Shadowhunter Academy,” Lydia said. “Combat training assessment. People say he is the best fighter of his generation. But while I’ve been here I’ve also seen how good he is at inspiring the trainees. This will give him a chance to share his skill and help shape the current academy cohort.”
Alec let out a slow breath. “We’ve never been separated before, it’s always just been the 3 of us. Watching each others backs.”
“You’ll all be very busy, and safe,” Lydia replied. “Besides,” pausing for a moment while a small grin spread across on her face. “It will give you a chance to make friends other than your siblings.”
He nodded, his primary concerns appeased at least for the moment, but then looked up. “My parents?”
“They will be told this is a commendation,” Lydia said. “And that this a recognition of that. I’m sure they will take every credit being given, but it should mean they have no way of turning this against you.”
Alec winced. “That still won’t make them happy.”
“No,” Lydia said quietly. “But it should keep you safe.”
That mattered more than he wanted to admit. The 3 of them would all be far away while their parents were forced to return to the institute, and in the firing line for their wrath.
⸻
Isabelle stared at Alec like he’d just told her the sky had fallen.
“The Iron Sisters,” she repeated. “You’re serious.”
“I am.”
“The Iron Sisters?” She said again, as if she needed to repeat the words in order them to make sense. “That’s…Alec, that’s not something people get offered. You have to apply, and even then it’s very seldom granted. I know weapons masters who have tried for years and not been granted time with the Iron Sisters.”
“I know.”
Her expression shifted, excitement warring with suspicion. “This feels like a trap.”
“It’s a maneuver,” Alec said. “But not one aimed at us.” Alec could see all of the questions racing through Isabelle’s brain, but put a hand up to try and stop the trajectory of her next questions. “I don’t know the details, Lydia couldn’t tell me. But I trust her. This is about forcing our parents back to New York, and getting us out of the way of that.”
Alec didn’t need to explain “that”. They all knew how their parents would react to being forced back to New York and who they would take their anger out on.
“I can sort of understand why the Consul might want to force our parents out of Alicante, but why protect us? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Alec took a moment to answer Isabelle’s question. Wanting to frame it so it didn’t take away from her excitement at getting to work with the Iron Sisters. “I don’t think protecting us was the goal, it’s just an added benefit. I think they need us out of the way because we’ve done too good a job of covering for our parents absence.”
Jace had been uncharacteristically quiet, letting Isabelle ask all of the questions. Alec knew what his real concern would be, not the wrath of their parents or even the prestige of being asked to teach at the academy.
Jace leaned against the wall, expression pinched . “Six months,” he said. “This might protect us from Robert and Maryse, but they are still splitting us up. Different locations, different roles.”
“It’s temporary,” Alec said.
“That’s what they always say,” Jace replied, his voice tight with fear. The three of them had been a unit since he had been adopted at the age of 10. It had been Alec, Isabelle and Jace since then, and the idea of being separated was terrifying.
Isabelle stopped pacing. “What if they punish us when we get back?”
Alec didn’t answer immediately.
“They won’t be able to,” he said finally. “Not like before.”
Jace studied him. “You sound sure.”
“I’m not,” Alec admitted. “But I think this is the first time they’re not in control. I think that the Consul has a plan and it’s going to take those six months to play out. I think by the time we return, Robert and Maryse will have other things on their minds. Besides, as far as everyone is concerned we have done them proud. To punish us could make them look bad.”
That landed.
“I don’t like leaving you,” Isabelle said suddenly. “Either of you.”
Alec felt something twist in his chest. “I don’t like sending you away.”
Jace snorted softly. “You’re not. They are.”
Then, quieter, “But maybe this is good. We get to be… ourselves. Without them watching.”
Isabelle smiled faintly. “Imagine that.”
She looked at Alec. “What do you want from this?”
He hesitated. “I want to come back better. Stronger. With proof that what we’ve been doing is right.”
“And I want,” Isabelle said, “to learn things they can’t take away from me.”
Jace pushed off the wall. “I want to teach recruits not to die stupidly.”
They stood there for a moment, the three of them, aware of how rare it was to be united without pressure bearing down on them.
“We’ll call,” Isabelle said firmly. “All the time.”
“Portal visits,” Jace added. “When allowed.”
Alec nodded. “Always.”
Jace clapped a hand on Alec’s back. “Try not to dismantle European politics without us.”
Alec smiled, he was still a bit confused at how easy this was. In his life he had learned to expect everything to come with repercussions of one sort or another. Deep down he knew that this was still the case, but for the time being he decided to just enjoy the prospect of getting away from his parents, and worry about what happens afterwards later.
⸻
In Alicante, Jia Penhallow folded her hands on the polished table as Robert and Maryse Lightwood took their seats.
“The audit of the New York Institute has concluded,” Jia said smoothly.
“Audit?” Robert asked.
“Yes,” Jia replied. “Envoy Branwell has been observing Institute operations over the last few weeks.”
Maryse stiffened. “We were not informed.” A statement rather than a question. She was adept a the politics of Alicante and knew that any questions for her could go in a direction she wouldn’t want.
“No,” Jia agreed easily. “That was on my orders.” She could see the anger bubbling under the surface that both Lightwoods could only just contain. Before they could speak, voicing their obvious objection to what they saw as an affront to their leadership, Jia spoke again. Her face a perfect diplomats mask of political politeness. “Your children performed exceptionally. Their efficiency, innovation, and discipline reflect well on their upbringing.”
Maryse straightened. Robert’s shoulders eased. The tension in the room not completely diffused, but it certainly stopped the verbal onslaught that Maryse had been gearing up for.
“As a result,” Jia continued, “they’ve been offered temporary assignments, opportunities to showcase their considerable skills, as well expand and refine them before returning to New York.”
“Remove all three?” Maryse said sharply.
“Six months,” Jia replied. “And during that time, the Institute will require your full attention.”
Robert nodded slowly. “Of course.” Jia could see the silent conversation happening in front of her between the Lightwoods. It was obvious that they were trying to see to if they could think of an argument to turn down this “honour”, but nothing was forthcoming so they both kept quiet and let Jia continued.
“This is a commendation,” Jia said. “One you should take pride in. My assistant has already arranged for the transfers, with immediate effect. So I’m sure you have much to do in order to expedite your return to New York.” And with that it was clear that they were being dismissed. When the door closed behind them, Jia allowed herself a small, calculating smile. The Lightwoods did not understand the depths at which they had just been outmanoeuvred. She hoped that would make them careless, especially now that she had stripped away the coverage that had been so unwittingly provided by their children.
—————-
Madrid did not feel like New York. That was the first thing Alec noticed as he stepped through the Institute gates just after dusk. The air was warmer, the light softer, the city humming with life rather than grinding under it. The wards even had a different feel to them. He had expected some differences, but this was much more encompassing. This level of change had always felt threatening to Alec, but somehow, even though the initial differences were greater than he had anticipated, Alec was excited more than scared.
He adjusted the strap of his duffel automatically, shoulders squared, ready for scrutiny.Instead, he was met with smiles and a number of welcoming nods as he stepped away from the portal gate.
“Alexander Lightwood,” a voice said brightly. “You made excellent time.”
The man approaching him was older, early forties, maybe, with laugh lines etched around his eyes and a sword strapped at his back that had clearly seen use. His posture was relaxed, confident without being rigid.
“I’m Mateo Álvarez,” he said, offering his hand. “Head of the Madrid Institute. Welcome.”
Alec hesitated, just a fraction, before taking it. This level of welcome was certainly not what he had expected.His parents never greeted visitors, especially lowly transfers, and most definitely not with this level of warmth.
“Thank you, sir,” Alec said.
Mateo grimaced good naturedly. “Let’s start with Mateo. ‘Sir’ makes me feel ancient.”
Alec blinked. “Yes,uhh si.. Mateo.”
Mateo’s smile widened. “Lydia has been singing your praises since she got here. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
That… that was not how people usually introduced him.
“I’m just here to assist,” Alec said carefully.
Mateo waved a hand. “And I’m just here to run an Institute. Doesn’t mean we can’t learn from each other.”
He clapped Alec lightly on the shoulder and turned toward the entrance. “Come. I’ll show you where you’re staying, then we eat. You look like you haven’t had a proper meal in days.”
Alec opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it. This was most definitely not like New York. He followed, unsettled in a way he couldn’t quite name, not yet willing to trust that this would set the tone for the rest of his stay.
⸻
The next two weeks were just a blur of motion.
Madrid ran differently, not better, not worse, just differently. Patrols emphasized flexibility over rigid rotation. Department heads met weekly with Mateo, not to be judged, but to problem solve together. Failures were dissected without blame.
Alec watched, he asked questions, and took notes at the different strategies they employed. He wanted to know the “why” just as much as the “how”. Everyone was happy to spend time with him answering his questions. They appreciated his interest in understanding and his enthusiasm. As much as the Madrid institute was different than Alec had been expecting, Alec was also different than people had thought he would be. Robert and Maryse’s reputation had preceded him, and many thought, worried, that Alec would follow in their footsteps, and so were pleasantly surprised when they realised just how different he was from his parents.
After the first week of just observing and learning, Alec began offering suggestions.Tentatively at first, and devoid of any ego. He just wanted to share things that worked for him in New York, things that kept people safe
“You could stagger patrol handoffs here,” he said during one briefing, gesturing to a map. “We did this back home and it reduced fatigue. It also creates gaps during shift changes, but if you overlap by seven minutes instead of ten..”
Mateo leaned forward. “Show me.”
By the end of the meeting, they’d rewritten the schedule together.
“You realize,” Mateo said afterward, “that this will give my people an extra hour of rest each day. You’re going to be very popular when they find out!
Alec flushed. “It’s just pattern recognition.”
Mateo laughed. “No Alec, it’s much more than that. You think like a leader. Someone who wants the best outcome without sacrificing their people. That’s not something everyone can do.”
The department heads noticed too.
“I’ve never seen someone your age with such command of logistics,” the armory master told him, equal parts awe and curiosity.
“You cross-train your people like this?” asked the patrol captain. “No wonder your response times are so absurdly good.”
Mateo pulled Lydia aside one afternoon, voice low. “Where did he learn all this? I know Robert and Maryse and these aren’t the kinds of things they would spend effort on. ”
Lydia’s mouth curved slightly. “He taught himself, out necessity, out of wanting to do the best for his people.”
Mateo shook his head. “You should have warned me. I was not prepared to be this impressed.”
Being recognised as a leader here, by someone like Mateo made something deep in Alec ease a little. Lydia watched from the edges, increasingly impressed at how Alec was able to command the respect of the people here. Alec spoke more during meetings. He asked for feedback. He listened when people disagreed, and worked to understand why.
She was also happy to see how he had begun to stand a little taller, seemingly more comfortable in his own skin. The shadows under his eyes were lifting, and he even started to fill out a bit. The people at the Madrid Institute took their food seriously. Alec was not allowed to work through mealtimes, and people liked to socialise over their meals rather than talk shop. Alec didn’t always engage in the small talk, but he still went with the other to the canteen and enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere not to mention the delicious food. Lydia could also see that he was so busy absorbing everything he could that outside of these communal meals he hadn’t stopped once to relax since he got to Madrid.
“You’re running at full speed,” she told him one evening as they walked the perimeter after a patrol observation. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to understand everything,” Alec said. “Their capabilities, their limits. So whatever we document actually works.”
“And when do you rest, maybe even relax?”
Alec hesitated. “Later.”
Lydia arched a brow. “You said that in New York too.”
He winced. “Old habits.”
Still, she noticed the change.
⸻
It was one thing for his own experience to be more positive that he could have ever expected, but it was even better to hear how well Jace and Izzy were getting on. At first the separation had been hard for them all. For most of their lives it had just been the 3 of them watching each other’s backs, and it was difficult to know that they were far away and he couldn’t protect them. But by some miracle both Jace and Izzy were also thriving in their new environments. They tried to make sure they called at least twice a week. Alec took his calls from the small office he had been assigned, still not able to allow himself real down time.
When the call came through for tonight’s call, Alec balanced his phone against a stack of reports, the tiny Madrid crest on the folder peeking into frame as FaceTime chimed. He answered only to see Jace’s face slightly pixelated, with his hair damp like he’d just come out of training.
“Alec,” he announced, grinning into the camera, “your favorite parabatai is alive, adored, and possibly being worshipped by the next generation of Shadowhunters.”
A second tile popped up, and Isabelle’s face filled it, her hair pulled back into a neat braid, no jewelry, no makeup, wrapped in a plain grey robe that screamed Iron Sisters austerity. A very different look for Isabelle, whose idea of dress down was usually an outfit that still wouldn’t have been out of place in any club or high end restaurant.
“Do not encourage him,” she said dryly. “He’s going to be unbearable when we get back.”
Alec smiled, a quiet warmth settling in his chest at seeing them both. “It’s good to see you.”
Jace leaned closer to his camera. “Madrid treating you kindly, Alec the Diplomat?”
“Surprisingly well,” Alec admitted. “They’re very… organized. In a way that’s slightly terrifying.”
Isabelle laughed. “That sounds worse than demons.”
“So, Izzy” Jace said, tilting his phone for dramatic effect, “tell us about the convent of doom. Are they still refusing to acknowledge the concept of fashion?”
Isabelle lifted an unimpressed brow. “They don’t refuse fashion. They simply consider it irrelevant.”
“That is refusing it,” Jace replied.
She lifted her sleeve into view. “Yes, I look like a walking monastery curtain. But honestly? Worth it.”
Alec blinked. “Worth it?”
“They’re incredible,” Isabelle said, eyes brightening. “The techniques they use, Alec, you wouldn’t believe it. I watched Sister Amara re-temper a seraph blade by singing to it in an old dialect of Nephilim. And they’re letting me assist. Not just observe. Actually assist.”
Jace whistled. “So the dress code is the only tragedy.”
“Exactly. I miss my clothes,” she admitted, then smiled. “But I’m learning alloys and techniques that could change how we outfit patrol teams. Lighter gear, stronger protection. Imagine armor that actually moves with you.”
Alec nodded, genuinely impressed. “You’re going to revolutionize Shadowhunter fashion.”
Isabelle sighed theatrically. “And when I do, it will be spectacular.”
“And you?” Alec asked. “Still enjoying being the golden boy of the Academy?”
“Yes!” Jace laughed out. “Obviously.”
Isabelle groaned. “Please tell me you are not giving motivational speeches again.”
“I am not,” Jace said, offended. “They are asking me questions. Constantly.”
Isabelle smirked. “You just like that the students think you’re a legend.”
“That is merely a bonus,” Jace said, though his grin betrayed him.
He shifted the phone slightly, showing a blur of a practice hall behind him.
“There’s a visiting instructor from the Hong Kong Institute,” he continued. “Teaches a hybrid style, Shadowhunter forms mixed with mundane martial arts. It’s efficient, brutal at times but brilliant and good for some of the smaller demons we encounter.”
“You are taking instruction from someone else?” Alec asked incredulously “Someone has something to teach the great Jace Lightwood? How did your ego make room for that conversation?”
Isabelle cackled with glee but didn’t comment any further, instead wanting to see how Jace responded.
“Hey, I take instruction!” and when both faces of his siblings stared at him in disbelief he added “Ok I like winning,” Jace said, then added more seriously, “And Master Lee really knows his stuff. His technique is amazing.”
“And you Alec, how’s it going?” Isabelle asked, leaning closer to her camera.
Alec huffed a quiet laugh. “It’s… good, really good actually. They’re very interested in patrol protocols that we were using in New York. It’s a different team composition than they use here. They actually asked me to draft a proposal on diversifying patrol teams, showing how we mixed specialties instead of just pairing people by rank.”
Jace raised a brow. “They’re letting you reorganize things?”
“They’re listening,” Alec said, sounding faintly surprised himself. “I showed the Head the data I had that proved it can reduce injuries and improve response times, so he’s really interested. They’ve been trialing it with a few teams already.”
Isabelle smiled. “See? You’re changing the world, big brother.”
“Hardly,” Alec said, but there was a flicker of pride in his eyes.
For a moment, they just looked at each other through their screens, the distance between them feeling suddenly very real.
“Still,” Jace added lightly, “I’d trade all of this for terrible Institute coffee and your nagging.”
Isabelle rolled her eyes, but her smile softened. “I miss you idiots.”
Alec swallowed. “Same. We’re all doing well, but… it’ll be good to be back together.”
Jace nodded. “When we get back, we’re going to be unstoppable.”
“And fashionable,” Isabelle added pointedly.
Alec rolled his eyes but laughed. “Obviously.”
They stayed on the call a little longer, talking about mundane food, bad training halls, and the strange novelty of being treated like promising young leaders instead of children constantly being berated by their parents. The time away from New York was doing them all good, but still they were quietly counting down the days until they could be in the same room again.
——————-
On the fifteenth morning, Lydia intercepted him before briefing.
“No,” she said flatly.
Alec blinked. “No what?”
“You’re not working today.”
Mateo appeared behind her, arms crossed, grinning. “We’ve decided.”
“I have notes to finish,” Alec protested. “And I wanted to revise the…”
“Tomorrow,” Lydia said, cutting across him before he could finish his sentence. At the same time she grabbed the sheaf of paperwork from his hands, holding it beyond his reach.
Mateo clapped his hands. “You’re exploring the city. Museums, cafés, bookstores. Something that isn’t a patrol route.”
Alec stared at them. “That’s an order?”
Mateo shook his head. “That’s advice.”
Lydia met Alec’s eyes. “And you’re going to take it.”
Alec hesitated and then nodded slowly.
“All right,” he said.
Mateo smiled. “Good. Madrid is more than an Institute. I don’t want you to leave here without experiencing some of what the city can offer, and” he said with a small laugh “to prove to you that while New York might have its charms, Madrid has the history and culture!”
As Alec stepped beyond the gates of the institute, the city of Madrid unfolded before him. He loved history, and literature but had seldom time to indulge back home. He would occasionally take a circuitous route home from a meeting or solo patrol so he could visit a bookshop he had previously come across, or take a few minutes to wander through a gallery of the Met. But a whole day was an indulgence he had never allowed himself. It took a few moments to figure out what direction he wanted to head toward, but as soon as he took his first steps away from the institute a wave of excitement washed over him.
Alec had glamoured his runes before he left. It felt strange, lighter somehow, walking through the city without the weight of visible identity, without anyone looking at him and seeing Shadowhunter first.
Madrid was a rush of color and sound. Street musician playing on every corner, laughter spilling out of cafés and vibrant signs beckoning him in every direction. The smell of coffee and baked bread made his mouth water, even though he had only just had breakfast. Alec walked without a map, without a purpose beyond movement, letting himself be absorbed into the rhythm of the city.
After hours of wandering, he turned down a narrow side street almost by accident. That was when he saw the bookshop.It was small, tucked between a tailor and a closed bar, its windows crowded with handwritten signs and sun-faded posters. Books were stacked everywhere, old leather-bound volumes beside glossy new paperbacks, poetry collections sharing space with travel guides.
Alec stopped in his tracks, staring at his own idea of heaven. The bell above the door chimed softly, as Alec walked in. The smell of old paper and ink filling his senses and etching a smile on his face. Shelves stretched floor to ceiling, ladders leaned against walls, and books were piled in precarious towers on every available surface.
“This place is amazing,” Alec murmured, half to himself.
“I say that every time,” a voice replied from somewhere behind a shelf.
Alec turned, but before he could respond, another voice cut in, louder and more frantic.
“I’m sorry…I don’t…do you speak English?”
A young woman stood near the counter, clutching a scrap of paper, her face flushed with frustration. The shopkeeper was watching her apologetically, clearly unable to understand.
Alec stepped forward automatically. “I can help.”
Her relief was immediate. “Oh my god, thank you. I’m trying to find a book for my mother, but I don’t speak any Spanish and…”. She waved haphazardly at the man behind the counter.
He took the paper, scanned it, then turned to the shopkeeper. He explained smoothly, asking questions, clarifying editions. The shopkeeper brightened and disappeared into the back.
The woman stared at Alec. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Happy to help,” Alec said, handing the paper back.
She smiled at him, slow, appreciative. “Can I buy you a coffee to say thanks?”
Alec hesitated, then shook his head. “That’s not necessary.”
She tilted her head. “I insist.”
He smiled politely, already stepping back. “Really. I’m just glad you found what you needed.”
Her smile turned playful. “Are you always this hard to persuade?”
“Yes,” Alec said honestly.
She laughed, then shrugged. “All right. Your loss.”
As she turned away, Alec felt eyes on him.
“Turning down coffee in Madrid?” a smooth voice said. “That’s practically a crime.”
Alec turned to the voice, and found that his brain went off line for a few moments. The man standing a few feet away was beautiful. There was no other word for it. Dark hair styled just messy enough to look intentional, sharp cheekbones softened by a smile that suggested mischief rather than arrogance. His makeup perfectly done, enhancing his already perfect features. He held a book loosely in one hand, eyes bright with curiosity.
“I wasn’t aware,” Alec said, suddenly conscious of how drab he was in comparison.
The man smiled wider. “I’m Magnus.”
“Alec.” He managed to reply, but only just. Alec felt all the confidence he had gained over the last few weeks draining out of him as he stared at the man in front of him.
Magnus studied him for a moment, then gestured to the shelves. “You seem like someone who actually appreciates a place like this.”
Alec glanced around. “It’s incredible.”
“Right?” Magnus said. “I’ve been here an hour and I still haven’t made it past poetry.”
Alec’s eyebrows lifted. “You read poetry?”
Magnus scoffed. “I love poetry. Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who thinks it’s pretentious.”
“No,” Alec said quickly. “I…no. I like it. A lot, actually.”
Magnus’s expression softened. “Good. Come argue with me about Neruda.”
And they did but they also talked about poems they’d memorized, lines that had stayed with them for years. Magnus quoted Rilke. Alec countered with Auden. They drifted from shelf to shelf, occasionally reaching for the same book and laughing when their hands brushed.
“You read like someone who reads to escape.” Magnus said at one point, not unkindly.
Alec blinked. “What makes you say that?”
“You talk about books as if they’ve offered you a lifeline,” Magnus replied.
Alec swallowed. “That’s… surprisingly accurate.”
Magnus smiled gently. “Will you let me buy you coffee and you can tell me what other generes you like. Or…are just generally opposed to getting coffee and not just with pretty girls.”
Alec hesitated, then smiled sheepishly . “No, not opposed to coffee..just..” Alec could see Magnus giving him space to answer. He didn’t know how to explain that he generally didn’t talk with strangers if he didn’t have to, certainly not go out for coffee with them, and even more certainly if they were female. But he did want to go with Magnus.
“Ok” Alec said after a moment. “Where should we go?”
Their coffee turned into several as their conversation continued. They talked about books , travel, about cities they loved and hated, about the strange comfort of bookstores in unfamiliar places. Alec forgot to be guarded and Magnus forgot to be careful. Then Magnus’s phone rang.
He glanced at the screen and sighed. “I should take this.”
“Of course,” Alec said.
Magnus stepped a few feet away. “Magnus Bane,” he said into the phone.
Alec froze and the world seemed to tilt sideways.
Magnus Bane. He knew that name and he doubted if there was another. He was Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn and one of the main leaders of the Downworld. Magnus had led the last uprising, and was the Downworld representative at the Accords negotiations. He was also, at least according to his parents, the enemy. They blamed him for the fall of the Circle, and their loss of status. Every time his name was mentioned both of the elder Lightwoods would launch into a vitriolic tirade, claiming that he exemplified why the Downworlders couldn’t be trusted and needed to be controlled by the Clave.
Alec’s heart began to pound. He wasn’t sure how Magnus in turn felt about his parents, or the Clave for that matter, but he doubted it would be positive. Magnus finished the call and turned back, still smiling, until he saw Alec’s expression.
“Okay,” Magnus said slowly. “What just happened?”
Alec stood abruptly. “I…I need to tell you something.”
Magnus’s smile faded, replaced by concern. “You’re scaring me.”
“I didn’t know,” Alec said quickly. “I swear. I didn’t know who you were.”
Magnus went very still. “And now you do.”
“Yes.”
“And that matters because…?”
Alec took a breath. “Because I’m a Shadowhunter.”
Silence stretched between them. Then Magnus exhaled. “Well. That explains the posture.”
“There’s more.” Alec paused, knowing that this would be the reason Magnus stood up and walked away. “My last name is Lightwood. My parents are Robert and Maryse”.
Magnus stared at Alec for a moment, his expression thoughtful rather than upset.
“Well I think that sucks more for you than me.”
Alec stared. “You’re not angry?”
Magnus tilted his head. “Should I be?”
“I thought you’d think I tricked you. Or that this was… intentional. I know how badly my parents have treated you in the past.”
Magnus studied him carefully. Then, softly, “Alec. I know better than anyone that children shouldn’t be blamed for the sins of their parents. Besides, if this was a setup, it was a terrible one. I don’t think the Clave has ever, in its history, used a love of poetry and old books as a way to trap an enemy.”
Alec let out a shaky laugh.
“So,” Magnus said, “are you disappointed , knowing who I am and how your parents feel about me?”
“No,” Alec said immediately. “I just… thought it would change how you feel. About being here with me. I wasn’t sure what I could say to make you understand.”
Magnus smiled, warm and real. “Then just say what you feel.”
Alec met his eyes. “I’d like to see you again.”
Magnus’s smile turned radiant. “Dinner tomorrow?”
Alec nodded. “I’d like that.”
They exchanged numbers and as Alec stepped back into the Madrid night, heart racing, he realized something startling. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t bracing for consequences. He was just looking forward to tomorrow, to seeing Magnus again and seeing what would happen.
—————-
Alec hadn’t lied to Magnus when he said he’d never really dated. He’d known he was gay for years, long before he even had words for it, long before Jace had casually clocked it and Isabelle had followed with a raised brow and an about time. But knowing something about yourself didn’t mean you had space to act on it. That hadn’t really ever been an issue as there hadn’t ever been anyone who he had felt the slightest bit attracted to. Not in a meaningful way. There had never been anyone who made him pause like this. The way Magnus did.
That first dinner led to many more, and spending his free evenings with Magnus began to shape the rhythm of his time in Madrid. Sometimes they ate out with food like tapas shared between them. Magnus wanted Alec to try everything Madrid had to offer, laughing when Alec pretended not to enjoy something new. Other nights, they wandered the city with paper wrapped bocadillos de calamares, traditional Madrid sandwiches, sitting on steps or low walls, talking until the air cooled and the streetlights flickered on. They didn’t rush to try and move beyond this stage, just enjoying getting to know each other away from the normal pressures of their lives. Although both could feel what was growing between them, neither felt the need yet to progress any further.
They talked about books, and travel, and the strange intimacy of cities at night. Magnus told stories, some exaggerated, some clearly true, all told with theatrical flair. Alec loved watching and listening to Magnus. The way his body, especially his hands, moved to punctuate his words, and how the tone of his voice drew Alec in, making him feel special and safe.
Alec told his siblings three days after his first dinner with Magnus.
They were on a call, Isabelle curled on her bunk at the Iron Sisters’ compound, Jace pacing a training hall at the Academy.
“So,” Jace said, “you’re smiling. That’s alarming.”
Alec exhaled. “I met someone.”
Isabelle’s eyes sharpened instantly. “Someone someone?”
“Yes.”
Jace stopped pacing. “Oh.”
Alec hesitated. “His name is Magnus.”
Silence.
Then Isabelle sat up straighter. “Magnus Bane?”
Alec nodded. “I didn’t know at first.”
Jace ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. Wow. That’s, wow. Way to go brother. Go big or go home!”
“I know,” Alec said quickly. “We haven’t, nothing’s happened…yet. We’re just ..talking.”
Isabelle studied his face. “Do you like him?”
“Yes,” Alec said. “I really do.”
Jace blew out a breath. “All right. Let’s be practical.”
“Please don’t say ‘this is a terrible idea,’” Alec said quietly.
Jace shook his head. “No. I’m saying it’s a dangerous one.”
Isabelle nodded. “Our parents would lose their minds.”
“And the Clave,” Jace added. “Especially if they find out who he is.”
“I know,” Alec said. “That’s why I wanted to tell you.”
Isabelle’s expression softened. “Alec. You deserve something that’s yours. Not just duty. Not just responsibility.”
Jace smirked faintly. “And if anyone tries to hurt you for it, they answer to us.”
Alec felt his throat tighten. “Thank you.”
Isabelle smiled. “Just… be careful. And be happy.”
———————
Alec did not fall in love in Madrid, but he knew the seeds had been planted. He knew they were growing close, even though he still couldn’t understand what Magnus could possibly see in him. He tried to focus on just enjoying their time together rather than interrogate his own feelings. Which is how it slipped in under his carefully maintained defences before he was able to realise that Magnus had became an intrinsic part of his day. The best part, the most important part.
They met for coffee in the mornings when Alec’s schedule allowed, or late at night after patrols, when the city grew quiet and he had time for himself. Alec couldn’t remember being so free with anyone other than Isabelle or Jace. The conversation never felt forced and yet they never ran out of things to discuss. They talked about books they’d loved as children, about places they felt oddly at home, about the strange comfort of anonymity in foreign cities. When they couldn’t meet the spoke on the phone, without a day passing where they hadn’t spent at least some portion of it in each other company.
⸻
“I leave in a week,” Alec said one evening, staring into his cup.
Magnus didn’t look surprised. “Los Angeles, yes?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Three months,” Alec said. “If everything goes according to plan, I’ll be back in New York after that.”
Magnus nodded slowly. “I’ll be back there too. Eventually.”
“Eventually,” Alec echoed.
Silence settled between them, not awkward, but heavy.
“So,” Magnus said lightly, “I suppose this is the part where we promise to write letters like tragic nineteenth century characters.”
Alec smiled faintly. “I don’t think I’d be very good at that.”
“You’d be excellent,” Magnus said. “Painfully earnest. Possibly with footnotes.”
Alec laughed, then sobered. “I don’t want this to just… stop.”
Magnus studied him. “Nor do I.”
Another pause.
“But,” Magnus added carefully, “you understand why we should be… cautious.”
Alec nodded. “Yes.”
They both knew exactly what he meant. For Magnus there was very little risk of any consequences. The Downworld would not care who their High Warlock consorted with, few would even believe it was serious. The Clave would also never act against Magnus, not for something like this. They feared his power and his ability to unite the Downworld against the Clave if he were so inclined. But Alec, Alec could be punished by the Clave, and they both knew how high the stakes were for him.
⸻
On Alec’s last night in Madrid, they didn’t do anything special. They sat in a quiet square, city lights flickering around them, sharing a bottle of wine neither of them commented on.
“When you’re back in New York,” Magnus said casually, “you should visit the Brooklyn Museum. There’s an exhibit you’d like.”
Alec swallowed. “I’ll remember that.”
“And I’ll hold you to it,” Magnus added. “Friendship includes accountability.”
Alec smiled. “It does.”
When they parted Alec wasn’t sure whether sure how to say goodbye. A handshake seemed too cold, too clinical for what they had become. So instead he pulled Magnus in for a hug, one that lingered just a second too long. Neither commented on it.Later, alone in his room, Alec lay awake longer than he cared to admit, staring at the ceiling, an ache deep in his chest.
Tomorrow, he left for Los Angeles. And Madrid, Magnus and the little bubble they had inhabited, would become something he carried quietly with him, like a promise he wasn’t ready to speak out loud.
———
Los Angeles was nothing like Madrid. The air was thick with smog, and instead of being in the centre of the city, the Institute sat high and defensive in the hills, all sharp angles and wards layered so thick they hummed if you stood still long enough. Alec had been there three weeks now, long enough to know the patrol routes by heart, long enough to understand the politics, and long enough to be profoundly unimpressed. The tension was constant and sadly created an environment more like the one Alec was used to in New York when he had to work closely with his parents. It was exhausting in ways he was only just realising.
At night, Alec found himself checking his phone more often than necessary.Magnus had texted first, something flippant about LA traffic and how it made him grateful for portals. Alec had replied with a dry comment about air quality and tacky architecture.They fell into a rhythm after that. Nothing too intense that would call attention to the amount of time Alec spent looking at his phone, but it was consistent. Enough that Alec continued to feel the connection he had made with Magnus, and to be able to hope that when he returned to New York something more was a possibility.
Found a bookstore you’d hate. All first editions locked behind glass.
I’m offended on principle.
As you should be.
They didn’t say what the other city lacked. They didn’t say I wish you were here, but somehow it was a sentiment clear to both
———-
This is a mistake,” the LA Head said flatly, fingers drumming against the polished table. “Those artefacts were confiscated legally.”
“Legally,” Lydia echoed, calm and precise, “under pre-Accords law.”
Alec leaned forward. “Which is exactly the problem.”
The man shot him a look. “You’re very young to be lecturing me on Clave authority.”
Alec met his gaze without flinching. “I’ve been running an Institute since I was sixteen.”
The artefacts that were the crux of the issue were a half a dozen items taken from different Downworlders decades before the Accords existed. Some were ceremonial. Some were functional. All of them had been sitting in the LA institute vaults ever since, quietly poisoning relations.
“The Downworld wants them returned,” Lydia said. “And they have the right to request that.”
“These items were seized under pre-Accords authority,” the LA Head said for what had to be the fifth time, jaw tight. “Returning them sets a precedent.”
“It corrects one,” Lydia replied evenly.
Alec slid a report across the table. “Several of these objects are ceremonial. They were never weapons.”
“They’re dangerous,” the LA Head snapped. “We don’t even know what half of them do.”
“We don’t know that they are dangerous.” Alec said. “We’ve just never bothered to ask the right people.”
—————-
Artemis Storm,the High Warlock of Los Angeles, arrived precisely on time the next morning. He was tall, silver-haired, and radiated the sort of contained irritation that came from dealing with Shadowhunters for far too long.
“I am not here to argue ownership,” Artemis said coolly. “These artefacts belong to the Warlock community and you will return them. However, if you insist on examining each object then I am here to prevent anything stupid from happening.”
The LA Head bristled. Lydia stepped in smoothly.
“We appreciate your cooperation, High Warlock Storm.”
“Do you?” Artemis asked dryly. His gaze slid to Alec. “You seem more sincere than most.”
Alec inclined his head. “We want this done properly.”
“Good,” Artemis said. “Because I’m bringing in assistance.”
The LA Head stiffened. “Assistance?”
“Someone qualified to assess whether any of these artefacts pose a legitimate threat.” Artemis replied. “Someone that even the Clave recognises as being an expert in magical artefacts and has used before to determine any risk that an object might pose.”
“And who would that be?” the LA Head demanded.
Artemis smiled thinly. “He’ll be here shortly, I wanted to make sure that you were actually going to let us evaluate the objects before I made him come all this way.”
15 minutes later the conference room doors opened and in walked Magnus Bane in like he’d always belonged there. Alec forgot how to breathe.
Magnus’s eyes found his instantly and his face flashed a flicker of relief before his expression smoothed into polite composure.
“Magnus Bane,” he said easily. “Here to assess your artefacts.”
Artemis’s gaze sharpened, looking between Magnus and Alec. “You know each other.”
“Yes,” Magnus said.
Alec nodded. “We do.”
The LA Head looked betrayed but said nothing, and Lydia managed to hid her faint grin. Nothing more was said, and the meeting got started.
Magnus was meticulous. He explained enchantments patiently, dismantled assumptions without condescension, and treated each artefact with care that bordered on reverence.
“This one,” he said, turning a silver band between his fingers, “was never meant to be activated by force. It responds to grief. It’s a meditation token.”
The room went quiet.
“And this?” the LA Head demanded.
“A protective charm,” Magnus replied. “Currently dormant. Obviously it will not allow itself to be used in the protection of Shadowhunters.”
Alec bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
They didn’t speak directly all day, they didn’t need to. Watching Magnus work was intoxicating. He was every inch the High Warlock, powerful and commanding, but also the scholar. He understood that there was an opportunity here to help reclaim artefacts for his people, so he kept his usual snark to a minimum. The room never lost the edge of tension, but for Alec, being close to Magnus again settled him, in a way he didn’t want to think to closely about, especially here with everyone else on high alert.
By evening, the room emptied but Magnus managed to linger without being too obvious.
“So,” he said, softer now, “Los Angeles, fancy meeting you here.”
Alec exhaled. “You didn’t mention this possibility.”
Magnus hesitated, just a fraction.
“Well,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, “I may have called Artemis. Just to… check in.”
Alec blinked. “You called the High Warlock of LA.”
“I do that sometimes,” Magnus said defensively. “Professionally.”
“And then?”
“And then he mentioned a particularly stubborn Institute Head and a very tired Shadowhunter trying to negotiate in good faith.” Magnus’s mouth tilted. “I may have volunteered.”
Something in Alec’s chest gave.
“You didn’t have to….but I’m glad your here.” he said quietly.
At those words, a tension he hadn’t realised Magnus had been holding was released.
“I was worried that you’d think I was interfering. But..I wanted to see you and it seemed like a good opportunity.”
Alec smiled at the thought that Magnus was maybe missing him as much as he had been missing Magnus.
“Are you free for dinner?” Magnus asked.
“Yes,” Alec said immediately.
Then, after a pause he didn’t quite hide, he added, “I’ve… missed our conversations.”
Magnus met his eyes, trying to say more than his words would allow.
“So have I.”
————-
Magnus came back for Alec just after sunset and found him waiting near the Institute gates. Magnus stepped out of the shadows like a secret, eyes bright, smile just a little uncertain.
“Ready?” Magnus asked.
“Yes,” Alec said. Then, after a beat, “I’m starving. I haven’t had someone to show me all the best places to eat here, so I’ve been surviving on institute food. .”
Magnus smiled at that. “Well, we need to remedy that. I may have a few places in mind I want to show you. .”
Alec huffed a quiet laugh and took Magnus outstretched hand as they entered the portal he had just conjured.
⸻
The restaurant was small and tucked away, perched just far enough from the beach that the sound of waves softened the air without overwhelming it. Lantern light flickered against white walls, and there were only a handful of tables, each carefully spaced for privacy. Alec took it in slowly.
“This is…” He stopped, searching for the word. “Perfect.”
Magnus’s shoulders eased, just a little. “Good.”
They sat, quickly ordered their food and then for a few minutes just sat, enjoying the silence and each other’s presence. Then Magnus began to look nervous, playing with his ear cuff, a “tell” that Alec had previously discovered. He folded his hands together on the table, rings catching the light. “Alexander,” he said softly, “I’m going to say something very uncharacteristically honest.”
Alec’s pulse jumped. “Okay.”
Magnus took a breath. “You have unlocked something in me that I was quite certain had been buried. Not gone, just… asleep.”
Alec didn’t interrupt. He couldn’t.
“I didn’t expect it,” Magnus continued. “I certainly didn’t plan for it. But somewhere between a bookstore in Madrid and far too many conversations that lingered longer than necessary, I realized I was falling for you.”
Alec’s breath caught.
“In a way that is inconvenient,” Magnus added wryly. “And terrifying. And…” He smiled, small and sincere. “Unexpectedly wonderful.”
He met Alec’s eyes. “I hope you feel something similar. But I understand if you don’t. Or if you do, but decide it’s not worth the cost.”
The silence that followed was fragile, then Alec spoke.
“I do,” he said quietly. “I feel the same.”
Magnus’s breath left him in a slow exhale.
“But,” Alec continued, fingers tightening around his glass, “I’m scared.”
“That I understand,” Magnus said gently.
“You mean so much to me,” Alec said. “Your friendship…I don’t want to lose it. And I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how to be in a relationship. I don’t know why you’d even…”
Magnus frowned. “Alexander?”
“I can’t figure out why someone like you would want someone like me,” Alec finished, voice rough.
Magnus reached across the table, stopping just short of touching Alec’s hand. “You are extraordinary,” he said simply. “And you have been taught not to see it.”
Alec swallowed.
“I want to try,” Alec said. “I just… want to go slowly. I need to be sure. About myself. About us. When I stand in front of the Clave, my parent, when I’m honest about who I am, I want to know I’m doing it for something real.”
Magnus smiled, warm, relieved, and a little awed. “Slow sounds perfect.”
Dinner passed in a haze after that, easier, lighter, like something had been named and therefore lost its power to frighten them. When Magnus portaled them back near the Institute, the night air was cool and quiet. They stood facing each other, reluctant.
“Well,” Magnus said, “goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Alec echoed.
They hesitated, then Magnus leaned in, not rushing, not claiming, just asking. Alec met him halfway.
The kiss was soft and gentle yet altogether devastating. Now Alec truly knew what he would be missing if he ever had to give this up.
The kiss deepened, steady and warm and far more intense than he’d imagined. Magnus made a quiet sound of surprise, fingers curling into Alec’s jacket as if grounding himself. When they finally pulled back a bit, both of them were breathing a little harder.
Magnus laughed softly. “Oh.”
Alec smiled, dazed. “Yeah.”
They didn’t say anything else, they didn’t need to. Alec walked back into the Institute with his heart pounding and the certain understanding that everything had just changed. He wanted more, he wanted Magnus and for the first time in his life, he wasn’t willing to sacrifice what he wanted to the alter of the Clave or his parent’s aspirations.
————-
One of the most surprising things that Alec was quickly learning was that affection did not have to be earned, it could simply be given. Magnus never rushed him. That, more than anything, made it possible.
They kept things quiet and away from the institute. There were dinners that stretched late and walks along the beach where Magnus’s sleeve brushed Alec’s hand just often enough to make his breath catch. The first time Magnus reached for him deliberately, it was almost laughably gentle, fingers curling around Alec’s hand, as they sat side by side on a dune watching the waves come in by moonlight.
“Is this all right?” Magnus asked.
Alec swallowed. “Yes.”
Magnus’s thumb brushed over Alec’s pulse, warm and steady. Something in Alec’s chest loosened. He hadn’t realized how tightly wound he’d been. He leaned in without thinking and Magnus smiled like it was the bravest thing Alec had ever done.
He told Isabelle first.
“Finally,” Izzy said over the phone, voice bright with relief. “I was starting to think I’d have to stage an intervention.”
Alec laughed. “Don’t be dramatic.”
“Alex,” she said softly, “you sound happy.”
He went quiet. “I am. I’m also terrified.”
“Of course you are,” Isabelle replied. “But I’ve never heard you sound like this before.”
Later, with Jace, the conversation was rougher, but just as sincere.
“You’re sure?” Jace asked. “About him?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure about… everything that comes with it?”
Alec hesitated. “No. But I’m sure about him.”
Jace exhaled. “Then we’ve got your back. Both of us. Whatever happens.”
Alec closed his eyes. “Thank you.”
As the date of their return to New York crept closer, the calls grew more frequent. They talked logistics, contingencies and what-if scenarios they all pretended were theoretical. None of them said out loud what would happen if their parents blamed them for being forced back to New York, or what their reaction would be if they found out about Alec’s relationship with Magnus.
⸻
Magnus knew Alec was bracing for something.
“You’re carrying the future like it’s a bomb, ready to go off any moment,” Magnus said one evening, fingers tracing idle patterns on Alec’s arm.
Alec smiled faintly. “It usually is.”
“Whatever happens,” Magnus said, “we’ll face it together, remember?”
Alec nodded. “Together.”
But unease lingered.
⸻
Lydia asked Alec to meet her on his last full day in Los Angeles. They sat in a quiet conference room, the ocean just visible through the windows. Lydia didn’t open the file in front of her. She didn’t soften her voice as she looked directly at Alec.
“I owe you the truth,” she said.
Alec straightened. “About what?”
“About why you were removed from New York,” Lydia replied. “Why the inspection ever happened.”
Alec’s stomach dropped.
“The Consul is deeply concerned about your parents,” Lydia continued. “Not their neglect of the institute, though that was… appalling. .”
Alec frowned. “What do you mean?”
Lydia met his eyes. “Maryse and Robert Lightwood were part of the Circle leadership.”
The words didn’t make sense.
“No,” Alec said. “They would have told me.”
“They didn’t,” Lydia said gently. “And they took great care to keep it from you, and we think that they have been actively trying to resurrect it, and with it to over throw the Clave.”
Alec felt cold. Memories rearranged themselves with brutal clarity, their rules and punishments. They constant reminder that he was letting down the family, and how he needed to prove himself worthy of the Lightwood name.
“And Jia doesn’t have enough proof,” Alec said slowly.
“Not yet,” Lydia agreed. “That’s where you come in.”
Alec stared at the table. “You want me to spy on my parents.”
“I want you to protect your Institute,” Lydia said. “And possibly the Clave.”
Silence stretched.
Finally, Alec looked up. “If they’re trying to bring the Circle back…”
“Then you may be the only reason they fail,” Lydia said.
Alec nodded once, jaw set. Outside, the sun dipped toward the horizon. There was a saying the Nephlim had, “The law is hard, but it is the law.” Now Alec was learning that apparently so was the truth.
———
The sun was setting over Idris, the only real city in Alicante, when Alec came through the portal from Los Angeles .
The demon towers were washed gold, the white stone almost soft in the fading light. From the training courtyard below came the distant clash of seraph blades and the rhythm of drills. It should have felt good, he was here to finally reunite with his sister and brother after 6 months apart.
Instead, Alec’s stomach was tight. He wasn’t sure how he was going to tell them, but he knew they needed to know what he was going to do and why.
Jace was leaning against the low parapet wall, forearms braced on the stone, staring out over the city like he was memorizing it. Isabelle stood a few feet away, immaculate even after travel, now dressed back in her usual stylish attire.
“You look grim,” Jace observed as he caught site of Alec. “Which is impressive, even considering we’re about to go back to New York. I thought we would have at least a few minutes before that expression showed up.”
Isabelle’s eyes sharpened immediately. “What happened?”
Alec didn’t answer right away. He stepped between them, resting his hands on the cool stone. For a moment, he watched the light fade from the sky.
“I met with Lydia,” he said finally.
“They aren’t separating us agin?” Jace asked quickly, his worst fear coming to the forefront.
“No.” Alec drew in a breath. “About our parents.”
That got their attention.
Isabelle straightened. Jace turned fully now, his expression shifting from fear to alert in a heartbeat.
“What about them?” Isabelle asked.
Alec tried to chose his words carefully, but in the end he decided to be blunt as usual. “They were high-ranking members of the Circle.”
The silence that followed was immediate and absolute.
Jace’s brow furrowed. “That’s not possible.”
“It is,” Alec said quietly. “They were. Lydia showed me some of the files.”
Jace pushed off the wall, shaking his head like he’d misheard. “No. I don’t believe it.”
“They weren’t just present, Jace.” Alec interrupted. “They were part of Valentines inner circle, they held high ranking posts, and were part of the Circle’s leadership.”
Isabelle’s face had gone very still. “How were they were never punished?”
“They got out as soon as they saw the end coming.” Alec said. “They made deals for informations, traded others for their own amnesty. Then by the time the dust settled, it was, I guess just too much of an embarrassment to the Clave, they wanted to adopt a “forgive and forget” policy to anyone who wanted to return to the Clave fold.
Jace let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “You’re telling me Robert Lightwood, Captain of the Guard, model of Clave loyalty, Mr oh so righteous stick up his ass Lightwood, was one of Valentine’s closest followers?”
“Yes. Maryse too. In fact she was higher up in the Circle than Robert.”
The word hung there.
Jace ran a hand through his hair, agitation creeping into his movements. “If that were true, we would have known.”
“Would we?” Alec asked gently.
That made Jace stop. Isabelle had gone quiet in a way Alec recognised, her mind moving fast, connecting threads.
“They’ve always hated Downworlders,” she said slowly. “Not just politically. Personally.”
Jace frowned. “A lot of people do.”
“Not like them,” Isabelle countered. “Not with that kind of intensity.”
She began ticking things off on her fingers.
“Their ‘fall from grace’ in Alicante that they’ve been obsessed with repairing. They were never critical of the Circle and then the way certain families look at them like they’re something foul stuck to their boots.”
Jace hesitated.
“You’ve noticed it, we’ve talked about it before.” Isabelle pressed. “The Blackthorns. The Carstairs. Anyone who lost someone in the Uprising. They don’t just disagree with Mom and Dad, they despise them.”
Alec stayed silent, letting her follow it through.
“And the secrecy,” Isabelle continued. “The way they shut down any discussion of that time. The way they panic when Downworlders gain even an inch.”
Jace’s resistance was cracking now, confusion giving way to something harder.
“They said Valentine went too far,” he muttered.
“But never that he was wrong,” Isabelle said quietly.
That hung between them.
Alec went on. “The Consul believes they’ve been trying to rebuild it. Quietly. They’ve been re establishing alliances and trying to shift the balance of the Council. She’s afraid that if they succeed they will over throw the Clave and install the Circle in its place.
Isabelle’s gaze sharpened further. “Is that why they’ve been so desperate to repair their reputation here?”
Alec nodded. “Jia removed us from New York to get them out of Alicante. She wanted to try and isolate them there, where they didn’t have the same protection or allies. She was hoping that while we were gone our replacements would be able to watch them and find proof of what they are up to.”
“And?” Jace asked.
“And they’ve been careful,” Alec said. “Meticulous. Every attempt to get concrete proof them has failed.”
Jace’s jaw tightened. “Why tell us now?”
“Because,” Alec said, forcing himself to meet both their eyes, “she’s asking for our help.”
Jace stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”
“She wants us to look for proof,” Alec said. “It will be there in New York. In their correspondence, their meetings, Jia’s not sure, but she knows that what ever proof there is, our parents will have brought it with them to New York when they left Alicante.
Jace shook his head slowly. “They’re our parents.”
“I know.”
“And you’re just…what? Your ready to believe this, to betray them over something which the Consul has no evidence of?”
“I didn’t say that,” Alec replied, though his voice was steady. “I’m saying we need to know.”
Jace looked at Alec then, searching. “And if we don’t find anything?”
“Then we don’t find anything,” Alec said firmly. “And we walk away knowing they’re innocent of this.”
“And if we do?” Jace asked.
Alec swallowed.
“Then we don’t ignore it.”
The words felt like a blade drawn across old loyalty.
Isabelle stepped closer, her voice steady. “If it’s not there, we’ll know. And we won’t have betrayed them.”
“And if it is,” she added, meeting Alec’s gaze, “then they betrayed us first.”
Jace looked between them, conflict written plainly across his face. Finally, he exhaled.
“I don’t want to believe it,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to be blind either.”
Alec nodded once and then said firmly So we will look, quietly and carefully..”
Jace gave a sharp, decisive nod. “Fine. We investigate.”
The three siblings stared at each, all of them understanding the implications of what they had just agreed to do. And then as the last light slipped below the horizon, they grabbed their bags and headed to the portal room to take them home.
———
Jia Penhallow’s message arrived before the returning Lightwoods had even made it back to their old rooms. It was formal, precise, and exactly the kind of command from the Consul that made Robert and Maryse bristle.
You will conduct a full debrief of Alec, Isabelle, and Jace Lightwood and submit it to the Council within a week of their return. You will document their learning for potential integration into Institute protocol and wider Clave policy. You will remain in New York for the next month to ensure a full and proper handover is done.
Maryse read the message twice, lips thinning. Robert didn’t bother hiding his fury. “She’s trying to exile us here.”
“She’s trying to demean us.” Maryse corrected. “And she’s using our own children to do it.”
They both knew better than to refuse.
Maryse and Robert were already waiting when the siblings entered the Heads office, shortly after being summoned. They had not seen their parents since their arrival the previous evening.
Stood behind their desk both Robert and Maryse were composed, cold and irritated in the way Alec knew meant that they’d been forced to comply with an order they disagreed with. There was no preamble, no welcoming home of beloved family after an absence, in fact if there had been an observer in the room, they would have been hard pressed to see anything remotely resembling familial bonds.
“Alec,” Maryse said coolly. “You’ll brief us first.”
“Of course,” Alec replied evenly.
Robert gestured sharply. “Let’s hear what six months of indulgence accomplished.”
Isabelle stiffened. Jace’s jaw tightened. Alec took a breath.
He began to recite, in report form, a breakdown of his time in Madrid first, followed by Los Angeles. He took them through the work he had been involved in, the different information that was shared, a summary of his learnings from each posting and then a plan of how to implement those learnings into the New York Institute. He did this all without notes, without wavering under the glare from his parents, speaking for a full hour before he drew to a conclusion.
When he had finished they tried to poke holes in his conclusions and when that didn’t work the dismissed his successes. Finally, they questioned his judgment, focusing in on what they saw as a capitulation to the Downworld. Robert sneered . “You negotiated with them. You gave them everything they wanted and allowed them walk out of the institute with possible weapons to use against us. You have put us all in danger with your naivety and stupidity.”
“No, I don’t see it like that, and neither did the Clave representative who was also in attendance.” Alec said evenly. “It allowed us to progress the relationship with the High Warlock, which we needed for ward renewal.”
Maryse’s eyes narrowed. “You speak as if you needed to kowtow to the warlocks to keep the institute safe. Has your time away made you forget that you’re a Shadowhunter, has it made you weak?”
“Who do you think maintains the wards Mother? Not just in Los Angeles, but here in New York, and every other institute around the world.” Alec replied.
“You’re forgetting your place,” Robert snapped.
When Robert raised his voice, Alec didn’t flinch, instead, and maybe for the first time, Alec met his gaze. “No. I’m remembering it.”
Silence fell.
Maryse studied him like she was seeing a stranger. “Careful, Alexander.” She paused, waiting to see his reaction, and then in a voice he knew she only used when she was about to drop a fatal blow. “We’ve heard rumors.”
Alec froze and it took every bit of his control to not show the panic he was now feeling build inside him.
“About your… association,” she continued. “With Magnus Bane.”
Isabelle inhaled sharply. Jace swore under his breath.
“Any interaction with him is inappropriate. “ Maryse said coldly, “I don’t care why you have decided to engage with that warlock, but it ends now, or you will be punished.”
At that pronouncement, Maryse turned to Jace and ordered him to begin his report. It was clear there was no room for discussion or even a chance to explain. After a moment Alec sat down, taking the seat next to Isabelle, realising that the moment where he would have to choose between Magnus and his life at the institute, under his parents, was coming ever closer.
⸻
Later, in the weapons room, Isabelle paced.
“They don’t get to dictate your life,” she hissed.
“They are the heads of this institute, they kinda do. Plus no one in Alicante would disagree with them. Alec replied quietly. “I knew going in my relationship with Magnus would come to this eventually.”
“What does that mean Alec, you can’t just walk away from him?” And then in a smaller, softer voice Izzy said “You’re happy , for the first time ever. I never even knew you could smile the way you do since you met Magnus.”
“No, I’m not giving him up Iz, I don’t think I could ever walk away…unless he didn’t want me anymore. I’m just going to keep going, until I can find out what they’re up to.”
Jace leaned against a rack of blades. “You’ve got to be smart. They’re going to be watching you even more now.”
Alec nodded. “I know. But we need to look for proof of what they’re up to, so I’m not going to just hide. I need to know…now more than ever.”
“Ok, so we just have to be careful, even more careful than we thought.” Isabelle stated in a voice much more confidently than any of them felt.
Later, when he was alone in his own room, Alec pulled out his phone.
Still breathing, he typed.
A moment later:
Me too. Barely though. Miss you.
Alec’s chest tightened.
Soon, he replied. I promise. I miss you as well.
⸻
The first week back passed slowly. Alec walked a careful line. He was compliant enough to avoid suspicion, but still assertive enough to maintain his own salinity, and to ensure that his parents didn’t grow suspicious that he had became too compliant, too easily. At night, he lay awake in his childhood room, the walls closer and the silence louder than he ever remembered it being. The only lifeline he had was Magnus.
Magnus texted him pictures of Brooklyn streets, terrible takeout, a bookstore Alec would love.
You’d hate this chair, one message read. No structural integrity.
Another text contained a picture of his cat, who Magnus had described as “the most judgmental asshole on the planet.”
Alec smiled into his pillow. He thought he would probably get along quite well with Magnus’s cat.
By Friday, he had a plan.Nothing too risky, but he knew he wouldn’t survive if he wasn’t able to see Magnus at all. He had become as important to Alec as air. So it would just be dinner, alone at Magnus’s loft. A few hours stolen back after a patrol, with Jace and Izzy covering for him should anyone come looking for him.
Tomorrow night? he typed.
The reply came instantly.
I’ll be waiting.
He slipped out through a service corridor, the benefits of growing up with two rebellious siblings was that Alec knew every single exit not covered by security cameras. His runes already glamoured, jacket pulled low as he crossed the city like a shadow. By the time he reached Brooklyn his anticipation was being flooded with a feeling of relief. He didn’t know how, but Magnus’s building seemed to recognise him. The wards parted, they were welcoming and warm. The penthouse door opened even before Alec had fully left the elevator.
“You’re late,” Magnus said lightly.
Alec stepped inside and exhaled. “You say that like I wasn’t sneaking out of my parents’ fortress.”
Magnus smiled and kissed him. It was soft, grounding, familiar now in the best way. “I missed you.”
Alec leaned into him for a moment longer than necessary. “I missed this.”
⸻
Dinner was already waiting. Or rather, had arrived, a spread of dishes that smelled of spices and flavour that transported Alec back to Madrid.
“From that little taverna we went to the first night we had dinner? ,” Alec asked, almost too touched by the act to get the question out properly.
Magnus answered, looking a little embarrassed . “I wanted to treat you. Give you something to escape for the night. I was hoping this might do the trick.”
Alec pulled Magnus into his arms and hugged him tightly. He hoped that somehow he would be able to express with that action how much he appreciated what Magnus had done. It touched him beyond belief that Magnus would put so much thought into trying to cheer him up.
“You were already the best escape, but thank you.” Alec said quietly as he held on to Magnus for just a bit longer.
They ate curled together on the couch, shoes abandoned, the city glowing beyond the windows. They didn’t talk much over dinner, just enjoying being in each other’s company. However, when Magnus had magicked away the last of the tapas plates, he felt he couldn’t put off the inevitable question.
“How’s it going? Have you managed to find anything?”
“No. There’s nothing.” Alec said, frustration seeping into his voice. “They’re careful. Every conversation, every meeting, wards layered over wards. I can’t tell what they’re planning, but I know they are hiding something. It’s all too orchestrated, too stage managed, and the security they have in place now is above and beyond anything they’ve had in the past.”
Magnus studied him. “Have you considered that possibly they’re only careful in the ways you expect.”
Alec frowned. “What do you mean?”
Magnus leaned back, considering. “Your parents are very… Shadowhunter.”
“That’s one word for it.”
“They rely on runes. Magic. Tradition,” Magnus continued. “Which means they likely believe they’re secure.”
Alec’s brow furrowed. “They are.”
Magnus smiled slowly. “Magically.”
Alec froze. “You’re suggesting, what?”
“Mundane technology,” Magnus said cheerfully. “Specifically, nanny cams.”
Alec blinked. “You’re serious, those cameras that people put in their children’s teddy bears?”
“Entirely.”
“But they’d check for….”
“Spells,” Magnus finished. “Wards. Scrying. Listening charms.” He waved a hand. “They won’t even consider a mundane device. Why would they? In their minds, mundane tech is inferior.”
Alec stared at him. Then he laughed, a sharp, delighted sound. “That’s… that’s brilliant.”
“I know,” Magnus said smugly.
They spent the next hour sprawled together, laptop open, comparing devices.
“This one’s too obvious.”
“That one has terrible battery life.”
“Oh, this one,” Magnus said, pointing. “Looks like part of a bookshelf.”
Alec leaned closer. “That’s perfect.”
Magnus glanced at him, eyes warm. “You know, I enjoy this version of us. Criminal masterminds.”
Alec smiled. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“Yes,” Magnus agreed. “I am.”
⸻
Two days later, Alec’s heart pounded as he stepped into his parents’ office. The nanny cam was small, matte black in colour and easily concealed behind a row of old volumes Robert insisted made him look scholarly. Alec slid it into place, adjusted it by touch alone, then straightened just as the door opened.
Maryse froze. “Alexander.”
“I was just dropping off the report,” Alec said calmly, holding it up.
Robert’s eyes swept the room. “You didn’t think to inform us you were coming?”
“I didn’t think it necessary.”
Maryse narrowed her gaze. “You’ve been… busy lately.”
“Yes,” Alec said evenly. “You asked me to be.”
Robert stepped forward, checking the desk, the shelves, the wards. Nothing stirred. No magic reacted.
Finally, he grunted. “Very well.”
Alec inclined his head and left, his pulse roaring in his ears. That night, back in his room, Alec opened his phone. The feed loaded and Alec could see his parents’ office, dark and empty. But the camera placement showed the entire room, and the recording device would activate at any sound. Magnus had tested it to make sure that it wouldn’t be affected by a rune meant to keep people from eavesdropping from the outside. Alec let out a slow breath. He typed a single message.
It worked.
Magnus replied almost instantly.
Of course it did.
Alec smiled.
By the third week though, Alec was beginning to lose hope that he would be able to get the evidence he needed before everything fell apart. Maryse castigated him constantly in front of subordinates. Robert assigned Isabelle patrols meant for three people and called it “character building.” Jace was sent on back-to-back training missions, with no notice, then berated for being exhausted.
It was relentless. Alec tried to absorbed it the way he always had, quietly, strategically, but something in him had changed. He no longer mistook cruelty for authority, so it was far more difficult to swallow. He was worried that either Izzy or Jace, or both would get injured due to the relentless pace his parents were setting and every day he felt his resolve slipping. Every night now, without fail, he locked his door and opened the feed, hoping that he could bring an end to the daily hell that he and his siblings were enduring.
Most evenings the feed showed nothing, that was until tonight. As Alec fast forwarded through that day’s feed, he stopped when he saw Robert and Maryse enter the office. As soon as the feed slowed to a normal pace, he could hear Maryse’s voice, cold and unguarded , but clear in the audio that was playing in through his ear buds.
“They’re growing too confident,” she said. “Penhallow thinks she’s won.”
“They won’t suspect Edom,” he could hear Robert say from somewhere outside of the cameras view. “They never do.”
Alec froze.
Robert leaned back into frame, his expression hard and pleased as he continued. “Especially not when Magnus Bane is involved.”
Alec’s blood turned to ice as they continued to speak openly about their plans. They felt safe behind their walls and their runes so they were careless and held nothing back.
The rift, small and controlled, would be opened directly in the council chamber. The demons that their associates had been capturing and hiding, would be unleashed into the room. There would be enough demons to cause terror and chaos, and enough time for the Circle members to make sure there would be openings on the council for their people.
“The Consul never carries a blade,” Robert said. “Nor does the Inquisitor. They rely on ceremony to protect them.”
Maryse nodded. “And in the confusion, they will be eliminated and the blame will fall where we need it.”
Alec felt sick the more he listened. They named names of the council members who would be “conveniently absent,” they discussed the votes that were already promised, and the emergency protocols ready to be invoked.
“We step in as stabilizing forces,” Maryse said. “Consul and Inquisitor. Temporary, of course.”
“Of course,” Robert echoed.
Alec shut the feed down with shaking hands. They wanted to take over the Clave and get rid of Magnus all in one fell swoop.
He went to Jace and Izzy immediately.
“They’re going to kill Jia,” Isabelle whispered.
“And the Inquisitor,” Jace added, his voice low “And Magnus, they’re setting him up.”
Alec nodded. “If this works, he won’t just be blamed. He’ll be executed.”
Silence stretched.
“They’re our parents,” Isabelle said finally, the words sounding fragile. “But this, this isn’t politics. This is mass murder.”
Jace dragged a hand through his hair. “And a coup.”
“If we take this to the Consul,” Isabelle said slowly, “they’ll be tried.”
“Executed, there’s no other outcome, not for what they are planning.” Jace said flatly.
Alec swallowed. “I know.”
Isabelle closed her eyes briefly. “I don’t want them dead.”
“Neither do I,” Alec said. “But I can’t let them do this. I won’t.”
Jace exhaled sharply. “Then we move fast. Before they can act, and before they get us killed.”
“Tomorrow,” Alec said. “During patrol.”
Silence fell. They now had the proof they had sought and there was no room for any denial, or hesitation about what they needed to do next. But that didn’t take away the hurt or the grief, so they gave themselves a moment to just feel, to let the emotions out before they had to pack them away and do what needed to be done.
Alec called Magnus as soon as he returned to his room. He sent him the audio recording, so Magnus could listen first hand to the fate his parents had planned for him. Magnus deserved to know everything, and Alec held nothing back.
“They’re planning to assassinate the Consul and the Inquisitor,” Alec said quietly. “They’re going to frame you. They’ve been somehow stockpiling demons from Edom, and use them to create the opportunity they need.”
Magnus was silent for a long moment.
Then, very calmly, “I need you to get out of that building.”
“Tomorrow,” Alec said. “Can you portal us to Alicante?”
“Yes, but why not now?” Magnus said immediately. “I need you safe.”
In a softer voice Alec said “You know why Magnus. If we disappear now my parents will know something is up, they will have time to plan some kind of excuse. If we go tomorrow, during our patrol, we have a few hours to speak to the Consul, and for her to take action. I’m not going to risk them finding a way out of this. But thank you…for caring…for worrying about me. I promise I will be safe. I have Jace and Izzy watching my back.”
Magnus was silent on the other end of the phone and then finally spoke, his voice sounding small and resigned. “Ok.”
Then, quietly, “Are you safe right now?”
“Yes,” Alec said. “For the moment. I’ll call you when we’re clear of the institute.”
Alec’s last call was to Lydia.
“I have the evidence,” Alec said simply. “Video. Audio. Everything. It’s bad Lydia, everything the Consul thought and worse I think. We can bring it to you tomorrow when we are supposed to be on patrol.”
Lydia didn’t hesitate. “I’ll alert the Consul. Can you get here without being detected?” Although Lydia knew the answer, that Alec would have the help of one of the most powerful living warlocks, she still wanted to make sure.”
“Yes, Magnus will help us, we won’t be using the standing portal, so make sure they know we’re coming. I’ll text you when we’re ready.”
“No problem. Any thing else? Are you ok?”
Alec nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “It’s big Lydia. There are a lot of Council members involved, both directly and indirectly. Only tell the Consul and the Inquisitor. The only way we will be able to get them is if they don’t know that we have this evidence.
When the call ended, Alec sat back against the wall, heart pounding. Tomorrow, everything would change.
⸻
They left the Institute as if nothing were wrong. Patrol gear on, their weapons checked. Jace joking half-heartedly about paperwork, Isabelle rolling her eyes, Alec walking a step ahead like he always did. To anyone watching, it looked routine. But all three knew that at any moment they could be caught and only when they reached the edge of their assigned sector did Alec know they were truly safe.
Magnus was already there. As soon as he saw țhem he opened a portal behind a service alley dumpster. Alec didn’t hesitate he grabbed Isabelle and Jace’s sleeve, and pushed them toward it. Before he entered though he pulled Magnus in for a tight hug. “Thank you. “ And with that he turned and stepped through the portal quickly followed by Magnus.
Alicante greeted them with sun-warmed stone and the faint hum of wards layered over centuries.Lydia was waiting for them in the portal room.
“You made it,” she said, relief flickering across her face before professionalism settled back in. “The Consul is ready for you.”
Jia Penhallow watched the recording without interruption. Her hands were folded neatly on the table, her expression composed, but Alec noticed the way her jaw tightened, the subtle shift of her posture as names were spoken, plans laid bare. When the screen went dark, silence stretched.
At last, Jia exhaled slowly. “I had hoped I was wrong.”
“You weren’t,” Lydia said quietly.
Jia looked at Alec. “You did exactly what I asked. More than that, you did what was right.”
Alec swallowed. “They were going to frame Magnus. Kill you. Kill the Inquisitor.”
“Yes,” Jia said. “And destabilize the Clave in the process.”
She stood. “We move now.”
Jace straightened. “What do you need from us?”
“For the moment?” Jia said gently. “Nothing. You stay here. Your absence from New York must remain unexplained until arrests are complete.”
She turned to Magnus. “I’ll need portals. Discreet ones.”
Magnus inclined his head. “I can have teams moved within minutes.”
“Good,” Jia said. “Lydia, inform the Inquisitor. I want warrants issued before sunset.”
They were ushered into a small waiting room just off the council chambers.Time stretched and no one spoke much at first. Isabelle sat with her knees drawn up, staring at the floor. Jace leaned against the wall, arms crossed, jaw tight. Alec paced until Magnus gently caught his wrist and guided him into a chair.
“You don’t need to wear the floor thin,” Magnus murmured.
Alec huffed a breathless laugh. “Feels like if I stop moving, something bad will happen.”
Magnus squeezed his hand. “Everything that can be done is being done.”
Hours passed. Finally, the door opened.
Lydia entered, a serious, and impassive expression on her face.
“It’s done,” Lydia said. “All named co-conspirators are in custody. Maryse and Robert included.”
Isabelle closed her eyes. Jace let out a long breath.
“The trials will begin tomorrow,” Lydia continued. “Alec, you’ll be required to testify.”
Alec nodded. “I expected that.”
“You’ll all stay in Alicante tonight,” Lydia said. “Lightwood Manor is prepared.”
Magnus glanced at Alec. “I’ll come with you.”
No one objected.
Lightwood Manor was too quiet. They sat around the long dining table, food barely touched. The house felt like a ghost, full of history, emptied of certainty.
They talked, not about guilt or blame, but about what came next. Who might be appointed interim Head. Whether they’d be separated again. Whether New York would ever feel safe.
Jace and Izzy made their way upstairs early, wanting to give Alec and Magnus some privacy after weeks of being forced to be apart.
“What if they move me?” Alec said finally, voice low. “What if the Council decides I’m too involved, too compromised, to stay in New York?”
Magnus, who had been stretched out on an ornate chaise lounge, turned onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. He studied Alec’s profile, the tension etched into every line of him.
“Then we adjust,” Magnus said. “We will find a way of making it work for us.”
Alec swallowed. “I don’t want to lose what we’re building. I don’t want to lose…”
He stopped, breath hitching. “..you.”
Magnus’s stood up and walked over to where Alec had been sitting. As he kneeled down he slid his hand into Alec’s, their fingers fitting together as if they’d always known how.
“You won’t,” Magnus said quietly. “Not unless you want to.”
Alec turned then, really looking at him. “You don’t have to tie yourself to this mess. To me. My life isn’t simple. It never will be.”
Magnus’s expression softened, something fierce and tender all at once. “Alexander Lightwood, I have lived for centuries. I have survived wars, apocalypses, and more poor life choices than I care to count.” His thumb brushed over Alec’s knuckles. “You are not a burden. You are a choice.”
Alec’s chest tightened painfully. “I don’t know where I’ll end up after this. I don’t know what the Clave will do.”
Magnus leaned closer. “Then let me be very clear.”
He took Alec’s face gently in his hands, forehead resting against his.
“I love you,” Magnus said. “And I am not letting you slip away. Not quietly. Not out of fear. Wherever you go, New York, Idris, the other side of the world, I will be with you, if that’s what you want.”
Alec’s sucked in a deep breath, emotion flooding him so fast it almost hurt.
“I…” He had to stop, press his eyes shut for a moment. “I love you too. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t think I could.” A soft, incredulous laugh escaped him. “But somewhere between Madrid and Los Angeles and sneaking around my parents’ office, you became… everything.”
Magnus smiled, luminous and a little wrecked. “I feel the same.”
Alec let out a shaky breath and leaned into him, their foreheads touching again, their hearts pounding in quiet sync.
“No matter what happens tomorrow,” Alec said, voice steadier now, “I want you. In my life. In my future.”
Magnus kissed him then, not hurried, not desperate. Just sure. Outside, Alicante slept on, unaware that the world had already shifted. Tomorrow would bring trials, endings, and consequences. But tonight, Alec Lightwood held onto the one truth that felt unshakeable. He was loved and he was no longer alone.
———-
The Council chamber was full in a way Alec had never seen before.
Every tier was occupied. Consuls past and present, Institute heads, representatives of the Guard, the Inquisitor’s dais crowded with silent observers. The air hummed with wards layered thick enough to make his skin prickle.
At the center of it all sat Robert and Maryse Lightwood. They were composed, controlled and silent. Maryse’s spine was straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Robert sat with his chin lifted, expression carved into calm outrage, as if the very idea of this trial were an insult to his service. They did not look afraid. They still believed they were untouchable.
When Alec was called forward, the murmurs began. He walked to the center of the chamber alone, every step measured, heart pounding but his shoulders steady. He did not look at his parents. He focused instead on Jia, seated high above, her expression grave and unreadable.
“Alec Lightwood,” Jia said, her voice carrying easily. “You will present the evidence you obtained.”
“Yes, Consul,” Alec replied.
The first recording played into the chamber like a blade drawn slowly from its sheath.
Maryse’s voice, cool, precise, laid out alliances. Names, the votes they could rely on, the contacts who would support them. Robert followed, outlining timing, logistics, the calculated absence of certain Council members.
The chamber grew very, very quiet. Alec explained how the recording had been obtained. The mundane device. The reasoning behind it. The assumptions his parents had made, that magical wards were enough, that no one would think beyond them.
Robert surged to his feet. “You treacherous little…”
“Sit down,” Jia snapped, the force of her voice cracking like a whip. Robert froze, face purple with fury, then sank back into his seat. Maryse rose instead, her control finally fracturing.
“This is a lie,” she said sharply. “Manufactured. My son has been compromised.” She pointed directly at Alec. “He has been consorting with Magnus Bane. A known warlock. He was discovered in an inappropriate, unnatural relationship and now seeks to destroy us to protect himself.”
A ripple of shock went through the chamber. Alec felt it like a physical blow, but he did not move.
Jia stood. “That line of questioning ends now,” she said coldly. “Alec Lightwood was acting on my orders, this is no vendetta on his part and his personal life is irrelevant to charges of treason. Any further attempt to interrupt his testimony will be considered contempt of Council.”
Maryse laughed, sharp and ugly. “You’re choosing him over decorated Clave officers?”
“I am choosing evidence,” Jia replied. “And truth.”
It was then that the Soul Sword was brought forth. Even Alec felt its presence before he saw it. An ancient artefact, humming with a power that was beyond the normal magic. Something older, something sacred that every shadowhunter bowed to. One by one, more witnesses were called. Each took the Sword in hand.
There was no drama to it, no theatrics. With the Soul Sword there could only be truth, compelled and unavoidable.
All the plans were confirmed. The rift to Edom, the framing of Magnus and the expectation that chaos and bloodshed that would pave the way for the Circle, under Robert and Maryse Lightwood, to come to power.
By the time Robert and Maryse were forced to take the Sword, the chamber felt hollowed out. Robert’s jaw clenched as his hand closed around the hilt.The truth spilled from him anyway, though by this point there were very few revelations left to shock the attending audience. When the verdict was delivered, there was no surprise left to be had.
“Treason against the Clave,” Jia said. “Conspiracy to assassinate the Consul and Inquisitor. Abuse of authority.”
The traditional sentence was spoken aloud. Death.
Alec’s breath caught despite himself. He had known there would be no other possible outcome, they all had, but it was still a shock.
Then Jia continued. “Because the plot was uncovered before loss of life, and upon recommendation of this Council, the sentence is commuted. Robert and Maryse Lightwood are hereby deruned and sentenced to life imprisonment in the adamas mines.”
A murmur swept the chamber.
For many, it was worse than execution.
Alec closed his eyes for a brief moment, not in grief, but in release. They would live. And whatever else they had taken from him, he would not carry their deaths. As the guards moved forward, Robert twisted violently in their grip.
“This is your doing,” he screamed at Alec. “You were always weak. Always a disappointment.”
Maryse’s voice cut sharper still. “You could have been something. Instead you chose filth and betrayal.”
Alec met their eyes then and did not flinch. As they were dragged from the chamber, still shouting, still trying to wound him one last time, Alec stood where he was, upright, unbroken. For the first time in his life, their voices did not follow him.
When the doors closed behind them. Alec barely heard Lydia speaking to him. She told him that the Consul wanted to see him privately. The words echoed in his head as he braced himself, ready for his parents to have a final victory over him, after exposing his relationship with Magnus to the full court.
Magnus was the first to reach him, fingers brushing Alec’s wrist in a grounding, wordless question.
“The Consul has asked to see me. She knows…about us.” He looked at his siblings and then back to Magnus. “Robert and Maryse told the court.”
“It’s going to be fine,” Magnus said gently, even as his eyes searched Alec’s face.
Alec shook his head. “I’m not sure how.”
Jace scoffed softly, arms folded. “You just dismantled a coup, exposed half the Council, and saved the Clave from imploding. If she arrests you, I’m staging a rebellion.”
“That’s not helping,” Isabelle said automatically, though she moved closer, shoulder bumping Alec’s in quiet solidarity.
Alec drew in a breath. “Listen to me.” He looked at all three of them, but his eyes settled on Magnus. “If she asks me to deny us, I won’t. I won’t pretend. I won’t apologize.”
Magnus’s mouth opened, then closed again.
“I know,” Alec continued, voice steady despite the storm in his chest. “And this isn’t just about you. I’m not doing this for you.” He swallowed. “I’m doing it for me. For who I am now. I won’t go back to hiding. Either I live honestly as a Shadowhunter… or I don’t live as one at all.”
The words landed heavy and irrevocable.
“If it comes to that,” Isabelle said quietly, “we’re not staying.”
Jace nodded immediately. “I think I’d make an amazing mundane.”
Magnus blinked, then huffed out a breath that was half laugh, half disbelief. “Well. In that case.” He lifted a hand. “I happen to be an exceptionally gifted forger. Passports, degrees, bank accounts, I can make you all incredibly boring, law-abiding mundanes.”
Alec snorted despite himself, the tension cracking just a little.
Magnus’s expression softened. “Whatever happens,” he said, lowering his voice, “you won’t face it alone.”
Alec squeezed his hand once, then let go.
“I’ll come find you,” Alec said. “No matter what.”
And then he turned and walked toward Jia Penhallow’s office.
⸻
The Consul’s office was quieter than Alec expected. No guards, no other Council members lurking in the shadows. Just Jia, standing by the tall windows that overlooked Alicante, hands clasped behind her back.
“Alexander,” she said, turning as he entered. “Thank you for coming so promptly.”
Alec inclined his head. “Of course, Consul.”
She gestured for him to sit, but he just shook his head and remained standing. Jia studied him for a long moment, not unkindly. Then she sighed and moved from her desk, activating a rune that sealed the room.
“I won’t keep you guessing,” she said. “This meeting is not disciplinary.”
Alec’s breath caught before he could stop it.
“I’ve read Lydia Branwell’s reports,” Jia continued. “In full. Including the parts she clearly struggled to keep objective.”
Alec said nothing.
“She documented an Institute run efficiently despite chronic understaffing, parental neglect, and, frankly, active interference.” Jia’s mouth thinned. “You were not supported. You were obstructed.”
She pulled up another file with a flick of her hand. “The Head of the Madrid Institute describes you as ‘strategically gifted, collaborative, and possessed of a rare instinct for systems thinking.’ He also notes that you listened and the teams you worked with respected you.”
Jia looked back at Alec. “That is not common.”
She didn’t give him time to respond.
“The Los Angeles Institute was… less generous,” she admitted. “But even there, the assessment is clear. You resolved a Downworld dispute that had been festering for decades. You did so without violence. And without inflaming tensions.”
She met his eyes directly now. “You have been running the New York Institute in all but name for years, Alec. And you did it well.”
Alec felt lightheaded. “Consul…?”
“I am appointing you Head of the New York Institute,” Jia said simply.
For a moment, Alec couldn’t speak at all. The room seemed to tilt, his thoughts scattering. Head. New York. Official. When he finally found his voice, it was quiet but firm. “Before I accept… there’s something you should know.”
Jia nodded once. “Go on.”
“My parents were telling the truth about one thing,” Alec said. “I’m gay. And I’m in a relationship with Magnus Bane.” He held her gaze. “I won’t hide it. I won’t give it up. If that disqualifies me…”
“It does not,” Jia interrupted.
Alec froze.
“Yes,” she continued calmly, “I am aware. Lydia was very thorough. And it makes no difference to me whatsoever.”
Alec stared at her.
“You have proven yourself a capable, ethical leader,” Jia said. “That is all that concerns me. In fact” her expression softened “your visibility may help others. Including my daughter.”
Alec’s breath left him in a rush.
“So,” Jia said gently, “do you accept?”
“Yes,” Alec said, without hesitation. “I do.”
⸻
When Alec returned to the small antechamber where Magnus, Jace, and Isabelle waited, they all looked up at once.
“Well?” Jace demanded.
Alec smiled.
“I’m Head of the New York Institute.”
Isabelle gasped, then launched herself at him. Jace whooped outright. Magnus just stood there, stunned, before pulling Alec into his arms.
“You did it,” Magnus murmured.
———
Magnus felt the wards shift as Alec approached and he smiled faintly to himself. It had been a week since the trial in Alicante, a week since he’d last seen Alec, but it had felt much longer. They talked every day but it wasn’t the same as seeing him, being able to touch and reassure himself that this was all real.
He moved toward the door and opened it, about to greetAlec with something witty and charming. However when he saw what was waiting for him, his words faltered before they could leave his mouth.
Alec stood in the hallway of Magnus’s Brooklyn loft dressed, not in gear, not in Institute black, but in a sharply tailored charcoal suit that fit him like it had been designed with sinful intent. His hair was styled instead of battle flattened. There was no stele at his hip. And in his hand…
Magnus blinked. There was a huge bouquet of flowers. Alec Lightwood was holding an actual bouquet. Dark calla lilies threaded with deep blue delphiniums, tied with a matching ribbon.
For a long moment, Magnus simply stared. “Well,” he said finally, one brow arching. “Either someone is about to apologize profusely… or I am being courted.”
Alec’s mouth twitched. “Hopefully the second.”
Magnus stepped aside slowly, eyes never leaving him. “Do come in. Before I decide to swoon theatrically in the hallway.”
Alec entered, a little stiff, like he’d rehearsed this and was determined not to deviate.
Magnus closed the door behind him. “Alexander. What is going on?”
Alec handed him the flowers.
“They’re for you,” he said, unnecessarily.
Magnus accepted them, something soft flickering behind his usual amusement. “I gathered.”
Alec took a breath.
“I meant what I said,” he began. “At the trial. With Jia. With everyone.”
Magnus’s teasing expression faded into something attentive, careful.
“I’m not hiding anymore,” Alec said. “Not for the Clave. Not for politics. Not for reputation.”
Magnus studied him. “You’ve already made that abundantly clear, darling.”
“No,” Alec said quietly. “I haven’t. Not fully.”
He stepped closer.
“I’ve been honest,” Alec continued, voice steady but vulnerable beneath it. “But I’ve still been cautious and careful.
Magnus didn’t interrupt.
Alec swallowed.
“I don’t want to be careful anymore.”
Silence stretched between them, thick, meaningful.
“I’m Head of the New York Institute,” Alec said. “If I can’t live openly here, then what was the point of any of this?”
Magnus’s grip tightened slightly around the bouquet.
“So,” Alec went on, gathering courage the way he would before stepping into battle, “I came to take you on a date.”
Magnus blinked again.
“In public,” Alec clarified. “In our city. Where anyone can see us.”
There it was. The heart of it.
“I love you,” Alec said simply. “And I want everyone to know it.”
The words settled into the room like something sacred.
For once, Magnus Bane had no immediate quip.
“You…” Magnus exhaled softly. “You are full of surprises tonight.”
Alec’s shoulders squared slightly. “I spent most of my life trying to be what people expected. Strong. Controlled. Acceptable.” His voice gentled. “I am still those things. But I’m also this.”
He reached for Magnus’s free hand.
“And I’m done pretending otherwise.”
Magnus’s eyes shimmered, not dramatically, not theatrically. Just honestly.
“You do realize,” he said, voice quieter than usual, “that stepping out like this will be noticed.”
“I know.”
“There will be whispers.”
“I know.”
“Some will not approve.”
Alec’s jaw set, not defensive, not angry. Certain.
“They can adjust…or not, I really don’t care.”
That did it. Magnus laughed softly, stepping into him, resting his forehead against Alec’s.
“Alexander Gideon Lightwood,” he murmured, “you have no idea what it means to hear you say that.”
“I think I do,” Alec said.
Magnus pulled back just enough to look at him properly.
“And where,” Magnus asked carefully, “is this very public date meant to occur?”
Alec’s mouth curved in a rare, confident smile.
“Dinner in Manhattan. Somewhere impossible to ignore.”
Magnus’s eyes sparkled. “You do understand that if we are doing this properly, I will be holding your hand.”
“I was hoping you would.”
“And possibly kissing you on the steps of the Institute when I bring you home?”
Alec flushed, but didn’t look away.
“Good, although to be honest I was hoping for a bit more than that.”
Magnus stared at him for one suspended heartbeat longer.
Then he set the flowers aside with a flick of magic, stepped fully into Alec’s space, and kissed him.
When they broke apart, Magnus’s voice was warm and resolute.
“Very well, Head of the Institute,” he said. “Let’s give New York something to talk about.”