People Disappear Here

by Isokuma

Summary:

To escape his father, Magnus must bring Asmodeus the other ruler of Edom. After killing Lilith and inheriting her throne, Alec begins changing into something demonic enough to survive a hell realm. United by desperation, Magnus and Alec work together to avoid their worst fears coming true.

Notes:

• For Xani9.

Chapter 1: Magnus (Prologue)

Summary:

Magnus wakes up in Edom.

Notes:

I don't usually post my WIPs but I've been sitting on this one too long so uh. hopefully I'll finish it. I have have multiple chapters written so those will all get posted at least. anyway have some angst.

Magnus wakes up disoriented, hot, and strangely itchy. He’s scratching at his left wrist before he even opens his eyes. His nails only provide seconds of relief before the itch returns, stronger than before, demanding acknowledgment.

He’s never felt an itch quite like this before. In the end, it’s the curiosity that prompts him to lift his heavy eyes. His body moves too slow, his thoughts sluggish, reminding him how much he’d drank the night before. Enough to not remember anything past his fifth drink.

Every inch of Magnus’ body aches or itches or both. He feels weighed down, fatigued. His first thought is that he’s sick with some kind of warlock flu again, but that hypothesis is immediately abandoned when he notices where he is. 

The sky above him is blood red. Crumbling walls of gray stone rise up around him, recognizable as the roofless remains of Asmodeus’ castle. It’s been decades since Magnus was last in Edom, but the empty, crimson landscape is unforgettable. 

The realization of where he is has Magnus’ stomach lurching. He shoots up despite the pain coursing through his muscles, his joints, into his head.

He thought he’d left this all behind when he left his father. Nothing on Earth could have convinced him to willingly return here. Of course, Edomite creatures rarely cared about things like consent.

Pinpricks of pain draw Magnus’ eyes down to his wrist. He hadn’t realized he was still scratching, distracted by the anger slowly overtaking him. Little bubbles of blood have welled to his skin from his nails. He barely notices the minor injuries though, his attention catching on something far more horrifying. There’s a brilliant red mark beneath his skin, wrapping around his wrist like magical barbed wire. 

Everything in him recoils. Panic spikes in his chest, filling his bloodstream as he takes in the matching band around his other wrist. They’re around his ankles too, and he’s willing to bet the itch around his neck looks the same. 

Magnus reaches out with his magic, desperate to break whatever cursed bonds have sunken beneath his skin, but his magic flinches away. A dark aura radiates from the unfamiliar spell. But well the bonds themselves are new, the magic emanating from them is not. It’s dark and ancient—perfectly on brand for Asmodeus. 

Refusing to be cowed, Magnus reaches for his magic again. He forces it deeper, focussing on the spell bond around his left wrist. The moment his magic brushes against Asmodeus’ spell, sharp pain radiates through his chest. He inhales through his teeth and presses his thumb to his wrist. His skin feels normal, soft, warm. As if he wasn’t being poisoned from the inside. 

Magnus wants to dig at the magic, pry it from his skin with his teeth and nails. But that’s not how magic works. He curls his hands into fists so he won’t be tempted to begin scratching again. The itch is unbearable but no amount of scratching is going to relieve it.

He tries to focus on his surroundings, on making an escape plan. He just needs one good portal. If he can get out of Edom, he can find help. Ragnor, Catarina, the Spiral Labyrinth. Someone has to know something. 

He tugs at his magic again, noticing the resistance for the first time. It feels like something is holding his magic back, separating it from him and only allowing a trickle through at a time. He tugs at it, trying to get enough to open a portal. Sweat beads along his forehead as exhaustion wars with fear. He needs to leave, needs to get as far from this cursed place as he can. But his magic won’t cooperate. For the first time in centuries, it won’t—or can’t—obey him.

It hums beneath his skin with a desperation that mimics his own. It wants to come to him as much as he wants it. The bonds around his wrists take on an eerie red glow, giving Magnus a good guess at what’s keeping his magic from him. 

A frustrated snarl tears from his lips. He gives up, letting go of his magic, allowing it to slip back beneath the barrier separating them. He’s panting from the effort and Edom’s dry climate. Every gasp of air does less than it would on Earth, too stuffy, too hot. It tastes of smoke and acid, clinging to his tongue like sand. Demons, he forgot how much he despises Edom.

Unwilling to remain physically trapped in his old room any longer, Magnus storms through his door frame and into the hall. It’s too narrow. The walls feel like they’re closing in on either side of him, and he walks a little faster. His legs protest, pain cascading up them with every step he takes. He doesn’t let it slow him. He’s going to find Asmodeus and murder him; maybe that will break the bonds and free his magic.

Predictably, Asmodeus is in the throne room. He’s lounging on his stone throne, an old book open on his lap. Magnus wants to lash out with his magic, make his father pay for bringing him here and force him to undo his spell. But he doesn’t have his magic the way he normally does. It can’t help him here.

He takes a breath and meets his father’s eyes, hating how familiar they are. He’s always hated his warlock mark, and he’s found it even more unbearable since he got to know Asmodeus. “Release me.”

“Magnus, I see you’ve finally awoken,” Asmodeus says casually, as though Magnus were a guest. As though he’d ever come here of his own volition. “You were unconscious for quite some time, I was beginning to worry.”

“What kind of dark magic is this?” Magnus demands, holding out his wrists. He’ll gladly strangle his father before indulging his small talk.

Asmodeus hums, snapping shut the book in his lap and getting to his feet. He approaches Magnus, but Magnus yanks his hands away as soon as Asmodeus reaches for him. Thankfully, Asmodeus gets the hint for once and doesn’t try again. He brushes a speck of imaginary dirt for the shoulder of his suit. “It’s really something, isn’t it? And you don’t even know the full extent of the spell yet.” 

The idea that there is more to the spell than what Magnus has already discovered horrifies him to the core, but he’s careful not to let that show on his face. Asmodeus doesn’t need any more leverage. 

“Why is it that warlocks always attempt to destroy any record of the most intricate works of magic? They still exist for those that know where to look, but your kind is so insistent on making everything more difficult than it needs to be. Do you know how long it took me to find this spell again?” 

Magnus grits his teeth against the fury rising within him. He’s achy, itchy, and tired. And, in all honesty, more than a little bit terrified. He wants to go home. He wants to commit patricide. “Records of dark magic should be destroyed, lest they fall into the hands of demons like you. Undo it now or I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” The pure giddiness on Asmodeus’ face is revolting. He loves having Magnus under his control and always has. It sickens Magnus. “Your magic may be powerful, but it’s been cut off, Magnus. You have no weapon. And, most importantly, you cannot hurt me without hurting yourself.”

Asmodeus’ smile doesn’t falter as he holds out his own wrist for Magnus to see. A strand of red barbed wire magic lies beneath his skin, curling in a spiral pattern from his elbow to his palm where it ends in a spiky circle. 

Magnus pushes down his nausea. If there’s one thing he’s learned over his centuries, it’s to never trust Asmodeus. Not giving himself a second to hesitate, Magnus lashes out. Most of his magic is still out of reach, but being in Edom imbues him with a new sense of strength and desperation. He relies on that now, yanking on what’s left of his magic to send it hurling at Asmodeus. 

Asmodeus doesn’t even attempt to block the attack. The magic hits him hard enough to send him careening into the brick wall behind him with a loud crack . The instant Asmodeus makes contact, pain lances through Magnus’ back. He stumbles, barely managing to stay on his feet as waves of agony roll through his spine. It feels as though he was the one thrown into a wall. 

“So dramatic,” Asmodeus mutters as he stands. He flicks his fingers, banishing the debris from his hair and outfit. “Do you understand now? You will help me this time because you don’t have a choice.”

Magnus’ stomach revolts. He throws up all over a pile of Asmodeus’ precious dark magic books, but he can’t even enjoy the small act of defiance. All he can feel is sinking dread and that cursed spell, intertwined all the way down to his very bones.

Chapter 2: Alec

Summary:

Fifteen years after Magnus Bane went missing, a group of Shadowhunters and Downworlders find themselves in Edom.

Edom gives a vicious shake as Lilith’s ashes flutter to the ground, the movement so jarring Alec swears he feels it in his chest.  Using the heavenly fire to destroy Lilith has left him burning up. He might as well be in the middle of an inferno, fire roaring around him, within him, boiling his blood. He struggles to breathe around it. He can feel the fire slowly devouring him, destroying him from the inside out.

“Alec!” Izzy cries, reaching for him. Her hand encircles his forearm, and he knows she must be warm because they’re in Edom and there’s no such thing as being cool in Edom, but her skin feels cool against his. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he lies, not wanting to worry her. The fire is consuming him. Blinking hurts his eyes, breathing burns his lungs.

Jace meets his eye, letting Alec know he hasn’t fooled him. If even a fraction of his pain is making it through their bond then Jace knows exactly how poorly Alec is doing.

“We need to purge him of the heavenly fire,” Lorenzo says. He’s studying Alec like he’s a particularly interesting insect in a jar. It’s unsettling to have the High Warlock of New York scrutinizing him like that, even when they’re on the same side.

Lorenzo doesn’t do anything for free, and Alec wonders what Izzy offered to get him to agree to use Clary’s alliance rune with her and portal to Edom. He probably expects a hefty sum. Alec is just grateful they came for him, even if he’d prefer all of them were safe back in New York.

“How do we do that?” Clary asks, absentmindedly tracing the lines of the alliance rune binding her to Simon. Alec can’t imagine how she can help with this. The alliance rune was impressive, but even she can’t command heavenly fire. If anyone can help him, it’s certainly not a rookie who knows next to nothing about Shadowhunters. She may have taken down Valentine, but that doesn’t mean she knows anything about Edom or heavenly fire.

“There’s a possibility he could share it,” Lorenzo starts, looking squeamish at the idea. Alec can’t even blame him. No one wants him to share this. He wouldn’t want to subject anyone to it either.

He’s well aware that the best option would be for the others to return safely to Earth while he stays in Edom, burning himself to nothing. There’s no way he’ll be able to convince Jace and Izzy to go along with that, though.

“How would we do that?” Jace asks.

Lorenzo frowns. “If we spread it amongst all seven of us, we might be able to burn it out.”

“It’s worth a try,” Izzy says with more casualty than the remark deserves, as though she’s not agreeing to risk her life for Alec’s sake.

“Absolutely not—”

“You don’t get to decide for us,” Jace interrupts, coming to stand at Alec’s other side. “You wouldn’t leave us, we’re not leaving you.”

Of course Alec wouldn’t leave them, but that’s different. He’s not worth it. They shouldn’t risk their safety for him, but he can’t find a way to articulate that.

“Yeah, we’re a team,” Clary chimes in. “We can do this.” She takes Jace’s hand in one of hers and reaches for Simon with the other. She sounds far too confident about a half-baked plan born of desperation.

Meliorn and Lorenzo look the least enthused. Alec can’t blame them for being logical, in fact, he’s happy someone aside from himself isn’t rushing into this. It’s sweet that Izzy, Jace, Clary, and Simon want to help, but he’d much rather keep the four of them safe.

Lorenzo crosses his arms, tapping a finger against his arm in clear irritation. “In case you’ve all forgotten, this is purely theoretical. There’s a good chance we could all burn up as soon as Alec shares the heavenly fire.” This is all theory, there’s a good chance we all burn up as soon as Alec allows the heavenly fire to be shared.”

“If Alec can share the heavenly fire with us then maybe he could share it with something inanimate,” Clary muses, gaze distant as she loses herself in thought.

Alec’s forearm burns, drawing his attention just in time to see his rune fading from a vibrant scarlet back to black. He looks up to see if anyone else noticed and finds Lorenzo watching him. Everyone else, at least, was too busy listening to Clary’s rambling to notice. Alec rolls his jacket sleeves down to his wrists despite the suffocating heat.

“Only the angels can transfer heavenly fire to objects,” Jace says, his brows drawn together, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Maybe that’s because no one else has ever tried!”

Clary tugs out her stele, and Alec frowns. What she’s proposing sounds a lot like blasphemy. “Fray—”

“I can do this, Alec. It should be easier than the alliance rune—and this way no one has to get hurt. We just need something to store the heavenly fire in.”

“Here.” Meliorn holds out a simple dagger with leaves etched into the hilt.

Clary takes it and readies her stele.

Alec watches with a healthy amount of skepticism, feeling his time running out with every breath growing tighter. But Clary is right about one thing: her plan keeps Izzy and Jace safe. That’s really all he can ask for.

For the briefest of moments, Clary’s eyes close before flying back open. She begins drawing a rune onto the dagger’s blade, unlike any Alec has seen before. He leans a little closer, taking in the lines and angles. He’s still getting used to Clary’s odd power, and the awe at seeing new runes hasn’t worn off yet. He wonders how the angels feel about it.

Once the rune is in place, Clary holds out an expectant hand in his direction. “Where do you want the rune?”

“The back of my hand.” He doesn’t want to risk removing his shirt and revealing more runes flashing red. If he’s going to be consumed by heavenly fire, he’d prefer to do it alone. He doesn’t need the worry or the sympathy that would come with having attention on him.

Clary nods and begins tracing the new rune into his hand. He barely registers the familiar burn; it dulls in comparison to the heat coursing through his veins. Then it’s drawn, and Clary is handing him the dagger.

The moment his fingers brush the hilt, the dagger turns a fiery mix of red and orange, and Clary yanks her hand away with a sharp inhale. Alec would check on her, but he’s distracted by the burning pain of the heavenly fire leaving his body. He’d thought it would hurt less than when it entered him, but it scorches through his chest and down his arms as it burrows into Meliorn’s dagger.

When the pain finally subsides, Alec is left drained and wavering on his feet. The dagger’s blade glows faintly, the hilt warm in his hand. He goes to return it to Clary, but she flinches back, still cradling her palm, though her Iratze runes have probably already healed any burn. “Keep it.”

Alec shrugs, sliding it into one of the empty sheaths on his holster. He’s not going to turn up his nose at a new heavenly weapon. He’ll probably have to report it to the Clave as soon as they’re back in New York—he’s not looking forward to explaining that.

“We should get going,” Lorenzo says, eyes fixed upward. Alec follows his gaze, expecting to see demons. He finds nothing but ashen red sky. “Before Asmodeus comes after us as well.”

It’s clear by their eager responses that no one wants to stay in Edom any longer than absolutely necessary. Lorenzo summons a portal, sweat beads dappling his forehead. He gestures everyone through while Alec hangs back, keeping watch for any demons that might appear. When only he and Lorenzo are left, Alec follows the others through the portal.

Except, when he steps through the portal, nothing happens. There’s no dizzying sensation, no momentary blackness. When he steps out, he’s directly on the other side of the portal, still in Edom. He blinks. How did he manage to mess up going through a portal?

“I was worried this might happen,” Lorenzo says as Alec turns to face him. There’s a tightness to the lines of his eyes that has worry pooling in Alec’s gut; no one ever looks like that when they’re about to deliver good news.

“You were worried what might happen?”

Lorenzo sighs. “You killed Lilith.”

“Yeah, so?”

Lorenzo glances around the foreboding landscape, currently empty, but home to endless demons. “How much do you know about Edom’s government?”

“Is now really the time for a lecture in Edomite politics? Why can’t I use the portal?” Alec is already aching to return home, to wash the grime of the hell dimension from his skin and get a good night’s rest in his own bed.

“It seems pertinent since Edom has selected you as one of her rulers.”

“…What?”

“Edom knows you killed Lilith,” Lorenzo explains, looking as tired as Alec feels, “and it’s selected you to rule in her place. You’re tied to Edom. Though, if you survive, you should be able to travel to Earth once you’ve accepted the position, like Lilith and Asmodeus have done.”

“How can Edom choose me as a ruler?” Alec argues, impatience and dread crawling up his spine. If he survives? What is Edom going to do to him? “It’s not—sentient… right?”

“It’s hard to say what any given planet or realm’s sentience is,” Lorenzo says, clearly opting for unhelpful and sarcastic.

“Okay, but…I’m a Shadowhunter. I can’t rule Edom. Don’t demons usually do that?”

“It seems Edom doesn’t care. I suppose I can visit the Spiral Labyrinth and see if there are any known loopholes, but as far as I can tell, you’re stuck here for the time being.”

Just. Freaking. Spectacular. Exactly what Alec needs right now. He runs a hand through his hair, all too aware of the gritty sand lining his palm, and wishes he hadn’t killed Lilith. The alternative probably would’ve been worse; if she’d been able to attack, who knows what damage she might have done? But the last thing Alec wants to be a ruler of Edom. He doesn’t know what that entails, but this is possibly the last place in existence he’d choose to be stuck.

“Okay. Great.”

“If that’s all…” Lorenzo trails off, inching toward his portal. Alec hates that Lorenzo was the one to stay and fill him on Edom’s governing system, but he can’t blame the warlock for wanting to leave. They have that much in common.

“Just one more thing. Don’t—don’t make a portal for Jace or Izzy to come back here, please. I might be stuck here, but they shouldn’t be.” Knowing them, they’ll want to rush back in to save him. He’s not going to doom all of them. He’s going to keep his siblings safe, even if it kills him.

Lorenzo takes a moment to consider before giving one short nod. The motion eases the tension in Alec’s chest, undoing one small knot of panic in a tapestry of anxiety. “I won’t bring them back here.”

“Thank you.”

Lorenzo purses his lips, and they stand in silence for an awkward moment. Alec eyes the portal. He really wishes it would work for him.

With one last glance at the crimson sky, Lorenzo steps through the portal. He disappears and so does the magic, leaving Alec stranded and alone on the barren sands of Edom.

Chapter 3: Magnus

Summary:

Asmodeus sends his favorite son on a mission.

The air around Magnus shifts, drawing his attention away from the demons battling around Asmodeus’ castle. (Despite having lived there for far longer than he can think about without going insane, Magnus refuses to think of the place as his home. Earth, so very far away, is still his home.) 

He glances at the sky to try to determine what’s changed, but it’s the same burning red that it has been since he arrived. Entirely unhelpful.

Even so, there’s no denying the atmospheric change: the way the air has shifted like the heralding of a storm. Magnus knows what it means without knowing how he knows. He presumes it’s his connection to Edom as Asmodeus’ son. Despite having nothing concrete to base his assumption on, he knows with every cell in his body that a ruler of Edom has just died. He can feel immense power changing hands.

And since Asmodeus is still alive and well, despite Magnus’ best efforts, it must be Lilith that fell. The mother of demons had tried to kill Magnus more than once, leaving him with several new scars he can’t fully heal without his magic, but Lilith hadn’t been the one to trap him here. It would’ve been better if Asmodeus had died—even if it meant he took Magnus with him. Death might be a relief after so long stuck in Hell.

“No!” Asmodeus snarls at the sky, knuckles turning white where he’s gripping the balcony railing. “She was mine.”

Magnus rolls his eyes. As if Asmodeus hadn’t failed to kill Lilith as many times as she’d failed to kill him. Magnus leans against the crumbling castle and watches a pair of demons claw and bite on the ground below. The smell of ichor and death hangs heavy in the air as demons rip each other to pieces in service of their rulers. It’s senseless violence, as if the decades of minor demon infighting have ever benefited Lilith or Asmodeus in any real way. It seems especially useless now that Lilith is dead. 

There is one benefit to it, though. If the demons are busy fighting each other, they have less time to try to slip through any inter-dimensional rifts to Earth. Better to keep their violence confined to Edom.

Asmodeus straightens, fixing the collar of his shirt and pushing back his hair. Putting himself together again. He doesn’t try to hide the bloodlust shimmering in his yellow eyes. “It’s no matter. This simply means our target has changed. Magnus, find whoever is responsible and bring them to me so I may have the pleasure of killing them.”

Magnus grits his teeth. Bandages hide the marks on his wrists and ankles, a thick choker necklace for the one on his neck, but he can still feel them. The spell is impossible to forget. It ties him to Asmodeus, binds him to Edom, and ensures he can’t inflict harm on his father without hurting himself. And it never stops itching. The spell drives him insane, but it doesn’t force his obedience. He can pick and choose his battles, so pick and choose he does. 

“Send your asmodei after them,” Magnus mutters, summoning a cold drink to his hand. The simple act drains at least half the magic he has access to. He hates how difficult the simplest spells are now, but his drinks are essential. Alcohol and fantasies are what gets him through his days. Sleep has also become a pastime of his, a reprieve from Edom, a chance to see his friends in his dreams.  

Asmodeus glances at the fighting demons. They’re not all asmodei—direct children of Asmodeus—but most of them are. They’re technically Magnus’ half-siblings, but thinking of them that way sends shudders of revulsion through him. The demons are more monster than human, unable to hold human forms and with no concerns or thoughts other than violence and serving Asmodeus. Magnus avoids them whenever possible. 

“This is too important to delegate to them,” Asmodeus says, watching as one of his asmodei gets its head—well, the bulbous top part of its lumpy oozing body—torn off. Asmodeus looks unbothered by the mutilation and murder of his child. “They couldn’t even take down Lilith.”

The ‘ they wouldn’t stand a chance at Lilith’s killer’ goes unspoken. Magnus grimaces and sips his margarita, sugar sparking the rusty parts of his brain responsible for happiness. “As I seem to recall, neither could I.” 

He’d only tried once before realizing that while he may have been capable of destroying Lilith when he was at full power, Asmodeus’ spell put him at too much of a disadvantage. Even armed with weapons and centuries of studying martial arts, he hadn’t stood a chance. He’d been lucky to make it out alive. He’d been bedridden for a while after that, tending to his wounds, half hoping he might die from them so he could take Asmodeus with him. Eventually, he’d recovered. He’d left Lilith alone after that, except when she sought him out.

Asmodeus frowns, his gaze searching. Magnus looks at his drink, disappointed to find it almost empty and wondering if he has the magic to summon another. He certainly doesn’t have enough to drink himself into a stupor the way he wants. If only he could spend his days in a drunken haze to blur out the reality surrounding him.

He hesitates, taking a small sip of his margarita, before carefully saying, “Perhaps, if I had my magic—”

“Don’t think I’m naive, you’d leave me in seconds if you had your magic. I’d find you, of course, but I’d like to avoid wasting our time.”

Apparently Magnus hasn’t been playing the dutiful son well enough to gain Asmodeus’ trust. It’s a difficult role to play when he wants to strangle Asmodeus every time they make eye contact. 

He finishes his drink. It comforts him for the last few sips, but then it’s gone, and he’s still here and not nearly drunk enough to deal with that.

“I suppose we could make a deal,” Asmodeus says, tracing the railing with one finger. 

Magnus frowns, instantly suspicious. Only the truly desperate make deals with demons. “What kind of deal?”

“Find me this new ruler, and I’ll break the curse. You’ll be free to leave Edom.”

Magnus’ heart leaps in his chest. It’s not the first time Asmodeus has made this offer, that had been when he told Magnus to capture Lilith, and Magnus should know better than to get his hopes up. He tells himself it’s hopeless, but his mind swims with images of home. All he has to do is catch whatever was powerful enough to dethrone Lilith. “How am I supposed to find someone I’ve never met?”

“Oh, my boy, isn’t it obvious? Follow the demons.” Asmodeus waves a hand toward the demons below, and Magnus realizes Lilith’s demons are retreating. Some are fast enough to disappear from the battlefield without issue, but most of them are left fighting off Asmodeus’ demons in an attempt to make their escape. They want to find their new king or queen.

Magnus really doesn’t want to know what a powerful Edomite creature could do with a horde of lesser demons at his service. He figures there’s a fifty-fifty chance he returns from Asmodeus’ mission alive, but he could use a break from his father and the asmodei. He sighs. “I’ll do it, but I have conditions.”

“Such as?”

Magnus allows himself to smirk. Asmodeus won’t give him anything he really wants—his magic, his home—but it’s the small wins that keep him going these days. He’s going to milk this for all it’s worth. He lifts his empty glass. “Let’s start with another round.”

Asmodeus looks unimpressed, but he complies. Magnus’ glass refills with cold alcohol.  Magnus takes a long sip, tasting lime and satisfaction. Then, only when Asmodeus’ brow is creased with annoyance, he adds, “And a magic sword.”

The way Asmodeus hesitates, short but just long enough to be noticeable, tells Magnus he has no idea what a magic sword is. Good . “A magic sword.”

“That won’t be a problem, will it?” Magnus asks as innocently as he can manage.

“Of course not.” And yet, Asmodeus doesn’t make any move to summon Magnus a weapon. “I know you’re going to ask for more, get it over with.”

Magnus hides his smile behind another drink. Small victories. “Magic-blocking handcuffs for my target, a bag with food— good food—and water, and your word that you’ll undo this when I return.” He taps his wrist, indicating the mark hidden below his sleeve and bandage.

The requests are reasonable. Magnus will need food and water to survive, and the handcuffs in case he manages to get close enough to Lilith’s killer to incapacitate them. The oath is standard procedure as well, something more binding than Asmodeus’ slippery promises.

When Magnus first woke in Edom, he’d expected Asmodeus to keep him away from his books on dark magic, but he’d been given free access. He’d even been allowed to read the book with the curse binding him to Asmodeus, probably because it says right on the page that only the caster can break this particular spell. Even if Magnus had his full magic, he wouldn’t be able to undo it himself.

Asmodeus’ cheek twitches. “Bring me the new ruler. Once I’ve killed them and inherited their throne, I’ll break the curse. You have my word.”

Asmodeus flicks his wrist, and a drawstring bag falls at Magnus’ feet. Then, a few seconds later, a weapon clatters down beside it. It resembles an ordinary sword, save for the slight magical shine of the blade. Magnus checks that everything is in the bag before slinging it over his shoulder and weighing the sword in his hand. He cuts it through the air, watching the metal glint and shimmer. He wonders how exactly the magic imbued in it works. 

“Your magic sword,” Asmodeus says dryly. “Now, you’d best be on your way.”

Magnus finishes his drink, lingering just long enough to annoy Asmodeus, before setting the glass down and moving through the castle to join the battlefield. It’s waning now, only a few stragglers still fighting on the sand. 

He identifies the most uninjured of Lilith’s demons, a seemingly unscathed hellhound snarling at two asmodei, and jumps into the fold. He swings his sword straight through the first asmodei. The moment the blade makes contact, it alights into flame, burning the demon as it slices through it. With one last hiss, the asmodei explodes into ichor. Effective.

Magnus turns to the other asmodei. It strikes at him with a sharp limb, but Magnus is faster. He cuts through its limb, leaving a trail of ice in his blade’s wake before the demon vaporizes into nothingness.

The hellhound tracks him with red eyes, letting out a low growl. He meets the stare with his unglamoured eyes—no reason to waste energy casting a glamour with only demons for company.

The hellhound hesitates long enough for Magnus to think it might attack. Then, with an annoyed huff, it turns and darts after the other retreating demons. 

Magnus sheaths his sword and follows. He wonders what new hellish creature awaits him, and how hard it’s going to be to subdue.

Notes:

Wrote the chapter summary and then had to think of the tiktok audio "my father is the worst man alive, and I'm his favorite daughter" so like this fic is that but "my father is the worst demon alive, and I'm his favorite child" for Magnus

Chapter 4: Izzy

Summary:

Izzy, Jace, and Clary search for a way to help Alec.

Izzy knows something is wrong as soon as Alec and Lorenzo don’t come through the portal immediately after the rest of them. She hovers just outside the portal, Jace tense beside her, both of them waiting for Alec to appear.  

“Do you think everything’s okay?” Jace asks without looking away from the portal, one hand on the hilt of his blade, the other over his parabatai bond.

A sense of uneasiness begins to weave knots in Izzy’s chest. She imagines a horde of demons swarming Alec the moment she and Jace were out of range. But Alec is a skilled fighter carrying a blade newly imbued with heavenly fire. Demons don’t stand a chance against him. Besides, Jace would be throwing himself back through the portal in an instant if he could feel Alec being attacked.

“What’s taking them so long?” Clary asks, peering at the portal like she might catch a glimpse of Alec and Lorenzo on the other side.

Izzy takes a step closer, only for Meliorn to extend his arm in front of her, blocking her. “Wait.”

“Why?” 

“Alec killed Lilith.” Meliorn says as if that means anything. Izzy, Jace, Clary, and Simon all stare at him. 

Jace scowls. “So what?” 

“I don’t know much about Edom’s governance, but killing a rulers may have consequences we didn’t anticipate.”

Izzy uncurls the snake bracelet from her arm, transforming it into her whip, ready to fight her way back to her brother. “That’s just more reason to go back and help Alec.”

“Yeah, you can stay here, but we’re going.” Jace meets Izzy’s eyes and gives her one quick nod. It’s enough to let Izzy know they’re on the same page; neither of them is going to leave Alec behind. 

Izzy isn’t surprised when Clary calls out, “I’m coming too!” 

Simon sighs. “I really don’t want to go back there.”

“Simon, you don’t have to come—”

“We’re wasting time,” Jace growls, stepping toward the portal. 

He’s about to step through, Izzy right behind him, when Lorenzo appears. He nearly collides with Jace in the time it takes them to notice each other. 

Jace stumbles back, and Izzy swears his cheeks are the tiniest bit pink. She doesn’t have time to enjoy that, though, because the portal is gone, and Alec is still missing. She tightens her grip on her weapon, “Where’s Alec?”

“If you left him there—”

Lorenzo gives Jace a scathing glare before saying calmly, “Alec was unable to return.”

Izzy’s heart clenches as Jace reaches for his rune. What can he feel through their bond? Is Alec okay? “What does that mean?”

“It seems Edom has claimed him as a ruler, and it’s intent on keeping him.”

“Too bad,” Jace mutters, drawing his seraph blade. “We’re not letting it.”

Lorenzo looks unimpressed. “You cannot fight a realm, Shadowhunter.”

“What will happen to Alec?” Clary asks. “Shadowhunters can’t survive in Edom without an alliance rune.”

“I believe Edom may be attempting to… change him into something that can survive there. I’m not sure what that will look like.”

Izzy’s blood runs cold. The idea of Alec dying alone in Edom was terrifying enough, but Edom had other plans for him? What kind of monster might it turn him into? “How do we stop it?”

Lorenzo hesitates, and Jace practically growls. “Make us another portal; we’re getting him back.”

“There’s no way to fight Edom or remove Alec as a ruler other than to kill him. Even Alec knew it. He made me promise I wouldn’t open a portal back for you.”

Izzy swears under her breath. Of course, Alec would do that, always more concerned with protecting them than protecting himself. She glances at Jace and finds him looking at her. She says what they’re both thinking, “So we find another warlock.”

He nods. “As soon as possible.”

“Not many warlocks are powerful enough to open a portal to Edom,” Lorenzo says, stepping around them toward the door, “Good luck finding one.”

“Wait!” Izzy calls, and he pauses in the doorway. “There must be someone who knows more about Edom. Someone who can help Alec.”

Lorenzo purses his lips, gaze flitting around the room. “I don’t believe Alec can be saved, but if you insist on trying… Catarina Loss might know something.” He turns on his heel and leaves without waiting for a response.

 

It doesn’t take long to track down Catarina Loss. Her file is relatively sparse, but it has one bit of useful information: the New York Institute is in possession of a brooch belonging to her. 

With Isabelle’s position of Interim Head, the bartering chip is easy to obtain. Only an hour after returning, they’re using it to track Catarina. Lorenzo, Simon, and Meliorn have left to attend to their own matters, but Jace and Clary are at Izzy’s side. 

She holds the brooch in her palm, a True North rune on the back of her hand. It had been a little overwhelming at first, her vision flickering between her location and Catarina’s, but after a moment she was able to adjust and tune it down. Now, she leads Jace and Clary through New York, following the tug of angelic magic buzzing through the rune. 

“That’s it,” Izzy says, breaking the heavy silence as they turn onto yet another suburban street exactly like the rest. A few houses down is a small blue house with a flourishing garden and a cobblestone path leading to the door. It’s one of the cutest houses Izzy has ever seen.

Jace’s hand goes to the hilt of his blade until Clary lightly slaps his wrist, “Jace, no. We don’t need to fight her.”

“She’s right, we should ask nicely first. Better to not break the accords,” Izzy adds as they approach the door. On the lower half are two paint handprints, one large, the other small. The potential of a child being inside is all the more reason to keep things peaceful.

“Fine, but if she won’t help—”

“Just let Clary and I do the talking. We want to charm her.” 

Jace scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. Izzy figures that’s as close to an agreement as he’s willing to give so she raises her hand and knocks.

It takes a long moment in which Izzy worries no one is going to answer before the door swings open, and a woman peeks her head out. She studies them with clear distrust. “Shadowhunters.”

“Are you Catarina Loss?” Clary asks.

“Depends. Who’s asking?”

“We just want to talk,” Izzy says, keeping her voice as polite as she can manage. “It’s about our brother, Alec.”

“The Head of the New York Institute?”

“Yes. He’s stuck in Edom, and Lorenzo Rey said you might know something to help us get him back.”

Catarina glances over her shoulder before stepping outside, carefully closing the door behind her. “Shadowhunters don’t just get stuck in Edom.”

“He killed Lilith,” Jace says, voice tight and angry. Not at all charming. Izzy notices Clary elbow him, but he just shrugs her off.

Catarina's eyes widen as she glances between the three of them. Izzy uncurls her fingers around the broach. It glints in the afternoon sun, throwing a stream of pale blue light across her hand. “We’ll give you this if you help us, as payment.”

“You’ll pay me with things your ancestors stole from me?” Catarina asks dryly. Izzy wonders if they’ve royally messed up, but then Catarina sighs and shakes her head. “There’s not much I can do. I know a little about Edom’s inheritance laws, but they’re very peculiar. I don’t know any way around them or if any loopholes exist. Edom won’t release Alec unless someone kills him and takes their place.”

“But Lilith could leave,” Clary says, frowning. “Why not Alec?”

“He might be able to one day. After Edom has solidified its hold on him to ensure he’ll always return.”

Izzy brushes a thumb over the brooch’s surface. “Lorenzo said it might be changing him into something that can survive in Edom.”

“That makes sense if it’s chosen him as a ruler. Unfortunately, there’s no precedent for this. I’ve never heard of anyone but demons ruling Edom. There’s no way of knowing what it might do to a Shadowhunter.”

“So how do we stop it?” Jace asks, impatiently scuffing his shoe on the patio. Izzy shoots him a warning look, but she’s not as good at that as Alec, and Jace only rolls his eyes. 

“I honestly don’t know if that’s possible. Traveling to Edom is difficult enough, but removing one of its leaders… You might be able to temporarily summon him the way greater demons are summoned, but there’s no telling how that might work on a Shadowhunter. However…”

“What?” Jace asks. All of them lean in, captivated and horrified, waiting for something that might give them a chance to help Alec. 

“There’s a warlock that went missing almost two decades ago. It’s believed he might be in Edom. If he is, he’s your brother’s best hope.”

“Why would some Edomite warlock help him?” Jace’s tone drips with condescension, and Clary elbows him again.

Catarina’s answering glare is scathing. “He isn’t Edomite. If he’s there, it’s not by choice. He’s kind and powerful, and he knows more about Edom than anyone else.”

“What’s his name?” Clary asks.

Catarina’s eyebrows pull in, her expression turning sad. “Magnus Bane.”

Notes:

Happy birthday to me 🎉
*cries in birthday blues*

I've finished writing the fic so the chapter count has been updated 🥰 I'll probably post more often now too, as I edit

Chapter 5: Alec

Summary:

Alec meets some new...friends?

Notes:

Apologies for any typos, I edited some of this while half asleep last night.

Alec has always hated Edom for sending so many demons to Earth, Lilith being among the worst, but it seems especially terrible now that he’s trapped here. He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking because it’s impossible to judge the passage of time when the sky is just one long stretch of red with no sun or moon. Whether it’s been minutes or hours, his throat is as dry as parchment paper and his muscles ache despite the stamina rune he’d activated. Every breath grates at his lungs. Every step burns. 

And, every so often, his runes flash a vibrant red. 

Dread pools in his gut each time it happens. He keeps waiting to burst into flames or something equally terrible. He’d be trying to fight it, but he doesn’t have the first clue how he’d even go about that. Weapons are useless against Edom’s attempts to corrupt him from the inside out. He needs information, but there’s no one to ask and nowhere to research. All he can do is try to keep himself alive.

The odds of that aren’t looking good, but Alec doesn’t know how to stop trying. He’s considered using the heavenly fire blade on himself to cut his suffering short, but then he imagines his sister’s grief-stricken face and Jace going pale as his parabatai rune vanishes, and he can’t do it. He’ll probably die down here, but it won’t be at his own hand. 

The swishing sound of movement displacing sand makes Alec pause. He tenses, instantly on alert, already reaching for the space pocket where he stores his bow. He’s lucky to have made it this far into a demon realm without encountering any demons, but he supposes that couldn’t last forever. 

He turns, knocking an arrow and lifting his bow. 

It’s only years of training that keep him from dropping his weapon and running when he sees the wave of demons descending on him. It’s an entire army made up of a whole variety of demons, all singularly focussed on him. 

There’s no way he can fight off all of them by himself. 

This, Alec realizes, is how he’s going to die. Alone in Edom, ripped apart by a horde of demons. At least he’ll die honorably, one of countless Shadowhunters felled in battle. 

He aims at the closest demon, a giant hellhound the likes of which he’s only ever seen in books and old reports. It’s faster than the others, barreling toward him in leaps and bounds, a blur of black fur and red eyes. 

Before Alec can so much as release his first arrow, another flash of pain shoots through him, so intense it causes every muscle in his body to clench. He fights to keep his eyes open, to keep his enemies in his line of sight. He wills himself not to give into the pain, but his body betrays him. His eyes snap shut, his bow slipping from his fingers. He can’t even stay on his feet.

His knees hit the sands of Edom, arms wrapping around himself in a desperate attempt to make the pain stop. He’s being burned alive from the inside. Flames lick at his stomach, sing through his blood, burning out a home in his chest. Maybe this is how he’ll die: spontaneous combustion before the demon army even reaches him. Maybe it’s for the best. 

And then, all at once, the pain subsides. 

Alec gasps, dragging in ragged breaths of smokey air, as he opens his eyes. His vision is tinged red at the edges. He can’t tell if it’s the result of Edom’s monochromatic landscape or lingering pain, but he doesn’t have time to deliberate. 

He’s surrounded by demons upon demons on all sides. They’d used his distraction to surround him in a tight circle, pressing against each other to get in as close as they’re able, yet leaving a small ring of space around Alec. Hundreds of eyes bore into him, all the same color as freshly spilled blood. Suffocating heat radiates from the mass of shifting bodies—as if Edom’s natural high temperatures weren’t enough already.

Alec scrambles for his bow. As soon as his fingers wrap around it, he jumps to his feet, determined to make himself a more difficult target. He lifts his bow, only to pause when he realizes none of the demons have moved closer. They aren’t attacking. They aren’t even snarling. They’re just…watching him.

It’s unsettling, having the undivided attention of so many demons, but somehow, it doesn’t feel dangerous. It should; the demons could rip him to shreds in seconds, but they don’t seem aggressive. The entire notion makes Alec question his sanity. Perhaps Edom is playing tricks on his mind as well because he should not feel this safe with so many demons all around him. 

Hesitantly, Alec lowers his bow. When the demons don’t immediately pounce on his vulnerability, he sets down the weapon. It might be his favorite, but it wouldn’t be effective with so many enemies in such close proximity anyway. 

The hellhound he’d been about to shoot before takes a small step forward. Alec bristles, wondering if he’s about to become demon dog food. It would serve him right for trusting demons. 

But the hellhound just peers at him with glowing ruby eyes set against fur so dark it seems to steal light from the air around it. The thing is wider than Alec, its head reaching his waist. If it stood on its hind legs, it’d definitely be taller than him. It’s bigger than any dog Alec had encountered on Earth, and he’s willing to bet its teeth are sharper.

Slowly, Alec holds out a hand toward it. It’s only once his hand is in the air that he realizes it’s shaking. He can’t figure out why, if it’s adrenaline, nerves, or another symptom of his body shutting down. He doesn’t think it matters much. 

The hellhound moves, and even though it’s given no sign of wanting to attack, Alec prepares to lose his hand. Instead of sinking its teeth into Alec’s wrist, the hellhound just nudges his palm with its head. Its fur is surprisingly soft. Alec allows himself to stroke the hellhound’s head, combing his fingers through fur softer than he’d imagined anything on Edom could be. He’s touched demons before, but they’re usually slimy or cold and scaly. He’s never heard of a demon that might make a good cuddle buddy. 

“Huh,” Alec says, continuing to pet the hellhound for lack of knowing what else to do. He doesn’t want to shatter the fragile peace. “This is new.”

“They like you.”

Alec jolts at the sound of a voice answering his own. For half a moment, he thinks he’s imagined it, until he sees the way the demons are turning to face the newcomer. They shift enough to allow Alec to see through the mass of them, and his eyes land on what must be a greater demon. 

It’s too humanoid to be anything else: the only demonic trait being his golden cat eyes. It’s almost a relief to see eyes that aren’t scarlet. The gold reminds Alec of his parabatai’s bright hair, and even on a demon, the color is comforting. 

 If they were back on earth, Alec thinks he might have mistaken the demon for a warlock, especially with his shiny shirt, fashionable necklace, and the makeup smudged around his eyes.

The lesser demons surrounding Alec shift to form a barrier between him and the greater demon. Some of them hiss while a few others make ominous gurgling sounds. The hellhound steps in front of Alec, a low growl ripping emanating from its chest. For some reason, they’ve decided they’d rather be on Alec’s side than this greater demon’s. Alec doesn’t want to know what that says about either of them.

“And they don’t like you,” Alec states, reaching for his bow. He doesn’t raise it yet, but holds it tightly in his hand, using the other to pull an arrow from the quiver on his back. The greater demon shifts, his blade glinting even under the sunless, rust-colored sky. Magic. 

“The feeling is mutual,” he muses, swinging his sword through the air in a casual arc that reminds Alec once again of Jace. Jace would show off his weapons, his easy control over them, to hide his nerves. Alec would bet the demon has a different motive. Maybe he’s showing off, probably overconfident despite being vastly outnumbered. 

And yet, Alec hesitates anyway. He doesn’t want to be the first to break the tense peace that has settled over him and all of the demons in his line of sight. So far, the lesser demons have left him unharmed, perhaps he can convince this one to do the same.

“Why?” Alec asks, letting his bow disappear into the void where he stores it. If the demon attacks, he’ll have to fight his way through the horde of demons protecting Alec which will give him time to retrieve his bow or unsheathe his seraph blade and new dagger. 

“You’re new to Edom, aren’t you, nephilim?”

The demon’s voice is accusatory, almost mocking. Alec swallows, but it does little to ease his dry throat. “I take it you don’t get a lot of visitors here.”

Something flickers across the demon’s face, his nose scrunching in distaste for half a second before his expression goes back to careful blankness. 

“Not many, no,” the demon says. Then, finally, he lowers his sword. “What is your name?”

“Alec Lightwood.”

The demon’s lip curls, interest flickering in his bright eyes. “Pray tell, how did a Lightwood become a ruler of Edom? Don’t tell me you’re here to follow Benedict’s legacy.”

Alec grimaces at the reminder of his relative. His family has done their best to erase him from their history, but some stains stick around no matter how much you scrub at them. Demon-fucking relatives who spread demon pox to their wives, causing them to commit suicide out of shame, are not easy to forget. Benedict is a dark spot on the already pretty dismal Lightwood legacy.

“No. Sorry if that disappoints,” Alec answers dryly. 

His response startles a laugh from the demon, and, until this very moment, Alec hadn’t realized greater demons could laugh so earnestly. It’s almost attractive. Almost. Because he does not take after Benedict, thank you very much. Some demon with pretty eyes and a nice laugh isn’t going to change that.

The demon sheathes his blade and steps forward, only for Alec’s new hellhound friend to growl and bare pearly white fangs. 

“Hey,” Alec reprimands in his best leader voice. He feels silly, telling off demons for not getting along, but he’s already having the weirdest day of his life. He’s tired and sore, and he’d prefer to avoid a fight. 

The hellhound huffs and turns to peer at him. After a moment of stern eye contact, it stands down, moving to his side. The other demons follow its example, moving to clear an aisle for the greater demon to approach. 

Alec waits with bated breath until the demon is close enough that Alec can make out the specks of green in his eyes, close enough that Alec notices the small mole above one of his eyebrows. 

The demon holds out a ringed hand in offering. “Magnus Bane.”

Alec can’t place the name, but it feels familiar in a way that sets a bell ringing at the back of his mind. He thinks he must’ve come across it in a book or Clave file at some point. He wishes he could remember more to give him some understanding of who he’s facing. 

He slides his hand into Magnus’. 

Almost as soon as he does, pain rockets through him, strong enough to buckle his knees and knock him off his feet again. He feels himself tilting, falling, but he’s helpless to stop it as his body burns. It’s a sweet relief when everything goes black.

Chapter 6: Magnus

Summary:

Magnus does his best to avoid becoming demon chow.

The Shadowhunter’s eyes roll back, his hand going limp in Magnus’, and then Alec is buckling in on himself. Magnus jolts into action. He manages to catch Alec before his head can hit the ground, but Alec is heavy. Without his magic to lend him additional strength, Magnus gets dragged off his feet by the sudden weight. They both go down. 

He manages to turn it into a soft collision, turning the motion into sitting as much as falling, trying to avoid either of them suffering a head wound. He finds himself butt-down in the sand, Alec half on top of him, a head of unruly black hair resting on his leg. Magnus thinks people are supposed to look calmer, younger when they’re unconscious, but Alec’s face is scrunched like he’s in pain. His runes glisten a bloody red brighter even than the sands around them.

Magnus doesn’t get nearly enough time to work through that revelation before a cacophony of hissing and growling pulls his attention to Alec’s army of demons.

They’d given him space when Alec was awake to keep them inline, but now they inch closer with raised haunches and bared fangs. 

Magnus shifts Alec off his lap as gently as he can manage and gets to his feet. He unsheathes his sword, shifting his weight and trying to decide the best way to fend off so many different kinds of demons. A behemoth made mostly of teeth leers at him from the frontline while a raum demon with a variety of slick gray tentacles approaches from the side. The hellhound he’d followed here lets out a low growl that seems to shake the very ground beneath his feet.

The blade in his hand is a small comfort against so many demons. He’s outnumbered, but not outclassed. He doesn’t raise it yet, though his fingers itch to defend himself from the approaching demons. He takes a large step away from Alec’s unconscious body and holds up his free hand in a motion of surrender. 

“I’m not going to hurt him,” he says, hoping it’s enough to appease the slimy, scaly horde. He has a better chance of surviving if he can convince the demons not to attack him. The sheer size of the army was what had caused him to hesitate when he’d spotted the Shadowhunter, opting for an introduction rather than attacking outright.

It’s possible he could destroy the demons in a fight, but the effort required to do so would leave him at a disadvantage by the time he reached their ruler. If Alec chose to stick around and fight rather than taking off while Magnus was distracted—though, that’s less of a concern when he’s unconscious. Magnus hadn’t expected Alec to pass out two minutes into their conversation.

The demons shift, forming a barrier around Alec, blocking him from Magnus’ view, but they don’t attack. Magnus goes onto his toes in an effort to see over the mass of demons. He’s not sure what Edom will do if its new king dies of natural causes, but Asmodeus will surely be furious. He’ll probably blame Magnus. Any hope of his returning home will be torn away all over again. Alec can’t die here, but Magnus doesn’t know if it’s possible for him to survive either.

Angels and their descendents aren’t built for hell realms. They usually died before they could make it more than a few steps, but Alec had killed Lilith. And, even stranger, Edom had dubbed him a ruler despite the angelic nature of his blood and magic. It was unheard of. How could Edom choose to keep him even as it killed him? 

Unless, of course, it isn’t killing him. Magnus wishes he could search the Spiral Labyrinth’s endless wealth of knowledge for something that might give him a bit of clarity. He wonders if it would help. Has anything like this ever happened before?

There’s a pained grunt from inside the circle of demons, unmistakably human. A moment later, Alec’s head appears through the mass of demons separating them. His eyebrows are knitted together, forming a furrow in his forehead, but it’s his eyes that hold Magnus’ attention. 

His previously-hazel irises have turned red, dimmer than the eyes of the demons around him, but with a definite crimson shine. A vetis demon with eel-like arms shifts, and Magnus catches sight of Alec’s neck rune. It glows scarlet, appearing almost…wiggly. While the rune itself stays in place, there’s something shifting within, a strange magic coursing through it.

“What did you do?” Alec growls, stomping through the demons to get to Magnus. He wraps a fist in the collar of Magnus’ shirt, pressing into his space, reeking of fury.

Magnus does nothing to stop it, keeping his sword held limply at his side.  He meets Alec’s eyes despite his instinctive urge to flinch away from the red irises. “I didn’t do anything, sweetheart.”

Alec blinks, and his eyes fade back to hazel. The rings of brown, green, and blue remind Magnus of the sprawling landscapes he’d adored on Earth. Edom’s never-ending red is so boring in comparison. 

“As soon as you touched me, I passed out. You expect me to believe that’s a coincidence?” 

Magnus smirks. “I can’t help who falls for me.” Alec’s hand tightens in his shirt, no trace of amusement anywhere in his expression, and Magnus sighs. “I didn’t do anything to you, but I think Edom is. Whatever it’s doing to your body, perhaps that process was helped along by touching me.” 

Alec slowly releases Magnus before taking a step back, and Magnus finds he, rather recklessly, misses the proximity. It’s been a long time since he had another person close to him for any reason at all. 

“Like an overload of demonic energy or something?” Alec sounds distrusting, which, all things considered, is probably smart of him. At least he’s willing to listen rather than simply reaching for one of the blades strapped to his legs.

“I can’t say for certain, but it’s possible. Is that the first time you’ve lost consciousness here?”

Alec glances away, but his gaze quickly returns to Magnus. It’d be flattering, except the only other things he has to look at are writhing demons.

“It’s getting worse,” Alec says, confirming Magnus’ suspicions. He doesn’t know what Edom plans on doing with a Shadowhunter, but he can’t imagine it’ll be pleasant. Alec’s eyes are blown wide with panic, his face a shade too pale as he asks, “What’s happening to me?”

Magnus is horrified to feel the pang of sympathy in his chest at the raw fear in Alec’s voice, the unsteadiness of it. He stomps the feeling down. He cannot allow himself to care about Alec. Nothing good can come of it, nothing good can grow here.

Furthermore, Magnus is not going to feel bad for a Shadowhunter who’d, as far as he can tell, voluntarily walked into Edom—much less a Lightwood. The last one Magnus met had hunted him for sport and killed more than one of his friends. Though it would be unfair to blame Alec for the sins of his relatives, not to mention hypocritical considering Magnus’ own father, he also has no desire to get to know anyone related to Maryse. Especially not someone who, if Magnus’ math is right, could have been raised by her. Even if Alec weren’t a Lightwood, Magnus has met too many genocidal Shadowhunters with god complexes to trust that this one will be any different.

He hopes things have improved between the Shadowhunters and Downworlders on Earth since Valentine’s downfall and subsequent, albeit suspicious, death. He wishes he’d gotten to stick around longer to see it. Perhaps, if this steady truce lasts, he can ask Alec about it at some point before the inevitable souring of their relationship.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Magnus answers, focussing on the issue at hand. His best guess is that Alec is turning into some kind of new breed of demon, but he doesn’t want to know how Alec will react to that. Probably with a lot of anger and desperation that would only hasten the transition. He’d like to put that off as long as possible, needing Alec to be human and trusting for his current plan to work. And, truth be told, he’s curious. He wants to know more about Alec: why he’s in Edom, how he killed Lilith, why he’s humoring Magnus when he has the upper hand. 

“Great,” Alec mutters, looking down at the rune on his forearm, exposed by the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down. It’s almost entirely black again, only the slightest bit red tint to it when Alec shifts his arm this way and that. 

The hellhound at Alec’s side whines and nudges Alec’s thigh. He flinches before relaxing, setting a hand hesitantly on the head of the creature. 

Magnus watches the interaction, thoughts racing nearly faster than he can keep up with. He realizes four things nearly simultaneously.

1. Alec Lightwood is being gentle with a demon, but claims he doesn’t want to fuck them.
2. Alec can touch the hellhound without collapsing.
3. Which means Magnus’ theory about demonic overload may have just been disproven entirely. 
4. The only way to know for sure is to repeat the experience by touching Alec again.

Apparently coming to the same realization, Alec looks up and says,  “I can touch her without passing out.”

Magnus shrugs. “It was only a hypothesis. Care to try again?” He holds out his hand, expecting Alec to brush him off, but Alec looks at Magnus’ hand like he’s actually considering it. 

“If you hurt me, I’m giving her permission to attack you,” Alec says, nodding to the hellhound who sits back and wags its tail. Magnus grimaces at it. The cute ones are, in Magnus’ experience, no less vicious and bloodthirsty as the revolting ones. 

He turns his attention to Alec. It’s strange to be grateful for, even comforted by, the company of a Lightwood. Magnus has been stuck in Edom with nothing but demons for so long, he’d probably be relieved to see even Valentine Morgenstern himself. The thought is too horrifying to entertain for long.

Magnus clears his throat. “I suppose that’s fair enough.”

Alec glances at Magnus’ outstretched hand, still hovering in the air between them. He takes a breath, nods like he’s preparing himself, and slides his hand into Magnus’.

It’s warm, because of course it is. There’s nothing here that isn’t warm. His fingers are calloused, probably from the bow Magnus had seen, but his grip is soft. Magnus tries to ignore how nice it is to have a hand holding his. He generally tries to avoid thinking about how touch starved he’s become, but that’s impossible now. He never wants to let go of Alec’s hand. 

For a long moment, they stand with hands held awkwardly between them, waiting for something to happen. Alec doesn’t pass out this time. His runes stay the same deep black, his irises the same earthy hazel. 

“I guess it truly was a coincidence,” Magnus says, concluding the experiment when it fails to result in anything at all. He forces himself to let go of Alec’s hand despite his base impulses to cling to Alec like a particularly affectionate sloth. 

He misses human connection. He misses his friends and their warm hugs and their kindness. He misses meeting people in bars. He misses eating at nice restaurants, traveling to new countries, experimenting with his magic to test its limits. He misses his home.

All he has to do to get all of that back is take this stranger, this nephilim already being corrupted by Edom, to his father. He will not get attached. 

Alec studies him, opening his mouth to say something, before his already pale skin goes white. His body flickers, shifting between here and not here so quickly it’s hard to process. “What did you do!?”

“You’re being summoned topside,” Magnus realizes with a rush of soul-deep longing. He lunges forward to grasp at Alec, desperate to go with him. 

He’s too late. His hand meets thin air as Alec vanishes. 

Chapter 7: Jace

Summary:

With Izzy and Clary's help, Jace summons Alec.

Jace’s stomach ties itself into dozens of knots as he squints at the wall of Alec’s office, waiting for a glimpse of something, anything, to appear before him . There’s a chalk pentacle drawn on the floor, courtesy of Clary, and he stands at the northern point. Clary is at the point to his left, Izzy to his right. He’s glad it’s just the three of them. He can’t stomach Simon’s nervous chattering or Meliorn’s incessant smugness right now. All he can think about is getting Alec back. He’s going to bring his parabatai home, no matter the cost. He’ll gladly fight anyone who tries to get in his way. 

“It’ll work,” Izzy says, apropos of nothing. She sounds too confident, considering how little they know about Edom. “Catarina knows what she’s doing, and we followed all of her instructions.”

Jace huffs. He rests a hand on the hilt of his seraph blade so he can drum his fingers against it. He’ll believe it works when he sees Alec. “We don’t know if we can trust her. She could’ve lied to make us go away.”

“I know she said we don’t need someone at each point, but maybe it would help if we had a couple more people?” Clary suggests. 

Izzy shakes her head. “I think we just need to be patient. He’ll show up.”

Jace isn’t so willing to believe the words of a random warlock who has no real reason to help them. He’s about to say as much when the air at the center of the pentacle shimmers. He stiffens, his body thrumming with nervous energy. His parabatai rune gives a sharp tug. 

Alec appears inside the pentacle, looking oddly translucent. He looks too much like a ghost: there, but not corporeal. This can’t be normal for a summoning. Greater demons are able to escape during most summonings, shouldn’t Alec be able to as well? He looks too fragile, like he might dissipate if he tries.

“Jace?” Alec says, blinking at him before glancing at the other two. “Izzy? Clary? What are you doing? How are you doing this? ”

For the first time ever, Jace is glad to be lectured by Alec. It means he’s really here. It means he’s safe, at least for now.

“Alec!” Izzy cries, jerking forward before remembering herself. If any of them move from their point, the summoning will break. While there’s a chance that doing so would free Alec and make it possible for him to roam the Earth again, it’s equally likely Alec would disappear. Especially given his current form. Jace doesn’t want to test it—yet. He needs more time first.

“Thank the angels,” Jace breathes, fighting the urge to rush forward and drag Alec home through sheer force of will. He thinks he might be able to manage it, if he activates all his runes and prays hard enough.

“What is this? Did you summon me?” Alec asks, looking down at his own semi-transparent body. 

“We found someone who told us how,” Clary says, fiddling with her sleeve. “We weren’t sure it would work since you’re not a demon, but it looks like it did.”

“Not well enough,” Jace mutters.

“Why would you summon me?” Alec asks, glancing between the three of them. Jace thinks only Alec would look that confused about being summoned from Edom by his family. He probably thinks there was no reason for them to do something like that.

Izzy rolls her eyes, clearly thinking along the same lines. “We needed to tell you something Catarina told us—“

“You bothered Catarina about this? I hope you paid her for her time.”

Izzy continues as though Alec hadn’t spoken, “She told us about someone in Edom who might be able to help you, if you can find him. A warlock.”

“Why would a warlock be in Edom? And why would he help me?”

“Apparently, he went missing a while ago,” Jace says, wishing he was in Edom with Alec. He’ll find a way back, even if he has to threaten the peace of the Shadow World to do so. Lorenzo may have refused to make them another portal, but everyone has a breaking point. Nothing is going to stop Jace from helping Alec. They can fix everything else later, together. 

“You think he’s hanging out in Edom? It’s all demons down there.”

Despite his words, Alec doesn’t look entirely convinced. The parabatai bond between them is still quiet, muffled like it’s been stuffed with cotton, but Jace doesn’t need it to know how to read Alec’s expressions. He can see the uncertainty in Alec’s eyes.

“It can’t hurt to try looking for him,” Clary says. 

“Hermano, listen, Catarina said he could help. His name is Magnus Bane—”

The way Alec’s eyes widen is enough for Jace to know that Alec recognizes the name. Before he can ask, before any of them can say more, Alec disappears. The room goes silent. 

Jace holds his breath, curling his hands into fists, until Alec returns. He’s even more transparent; Jace can see the opposite wall through him. Alec frowns. “I think Edom wants me back.”

Jace watches with mounting horror as Alec’s runes flash crimson, giving the appearance of wounds carving themselves into his skin. He feels a distant echo of pain, a tug at the sliver of Alec’s soul that resides in his body. He aches to make it better.

“Hold on!” Jace cries, reaching for his seraph blade, wishing he had something to fight. He’s going to have to track down a nest of demons after this, just to work off the excess energy. Then, he’ll sit down and figure out how to save Alec. “Find Magnus, convince him to protect you, offer him whatever he wants, and wait for us!”

“Stay alive,” Izzy begs with a cracking voice. It’s evidence that her confidence is all an act, a facade to cover that she feels exactly as desperate as Jace.

“Don’t…anything…upid.” Alec flickers in and out between words, but the message is clear. 

Alec is fading, and Jace doesn’t have any way to keep him here— unless.. . He steps into the pentacle, breaking the summoning. He hopes it will give Alec a way to return to Earth.

It doesn’t.  

Alec’s eyes flash red before he vanishes.

His absence is a gaping wound in Jece’s chest. He’s left gasping around it, trying to keep himself in one piece, trying to keep his heart beating. He can’t afford to let himself crumble. 

Clary rests a hand on his arm, but the touch just makes him itchy. He shakes her off. He doesn’t deserve comfort, and he doesn’t need it. He has a job to do. “He’s safe, for now, but we need to hurry.”

“Did you see his eyes?” Izzy asks, clearly shaken. She runs her fingers over her snake bracelet. “It has to be Edom’s doing.”

“Yeah,” Jace agrees, swallowing hard. “So let’s figure out how to make it stop.”

Chapter 8: Alec

Summary:

Alec makes a decision after talking to Magnus.

Notes:

This is the chapter that earns some of those darker tags so check the end notes for more specific warnings and keep yourselves safe please <3

I've been sick pretty much non-stop since like January but that's probably unrelated to this fic about being betrayed by your own body, haha. i'm faring better than Alec though 👍

Alec is yanked back into Edom with burning eyes and runes. His head spins, dizzy from the interdimensional tug of war, and he only manages to stay upright by relying on the hellhound still at his side. She presses into him, supporting his weight with ease.

Magnus is still in front of him, looking pissed off in a way that would be more intimidating if Alec hadn’t just learned that Magnus is not, in fact, a demon. “You’re a warlock.”

Magnus raises his eyebrows. “An astute observation. How was your trip?”

“Short.” He rubs at the crimson rune on his forearm, but that just turns the burning to an incessant itch. It’s worse than the pain so he stops and curls his hands into fists. “What are you doing down here?” 

“Don’t you know? Summering in Edom is all the rage,” Magnus says, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Alec studies Magnus, feeling like he’s trying to solve a puzzle he only has a few pieces to. Magnus’ comments are more sarcastic, more bitter, now, but his eyes seem somehow warmer. It’s comforting to know Alec isn’t the only human on this plane of existence. 

Since Magnus won’t tell Alec why he’s in Edom, he needs to ask different questions. He needs more information. He needs to know how much he can trust Magnus. “Where are you from?”

Magnus purses his lips, fingers dancing over the hilt of his magic-coated sword, giving Alec the unsettling realization that he may not be any safer just because he’d found a warlock. Well, really, Magnus had found him. But why? Magnus seeking him out made more sense when Alec believed him to be another demon.

“New York,” Magnus finally says, grimacing like the words leave a bad taste in his mouth.

“Me too.”

Magnus nods, moving his hand away from his sword to fiddle with the straps of the backpack he’s wearing. He studies the red sands that stretch out around them in every direction. “I suspected as much, given your last name.”

Magnus’ tone suggests that he’d not only met Alec’s relatives, but had decidedly not enjoyed their company. Alec wonders which of them Magnus had met. There’s no good answer, with his parents being some of the worst. 

Benedict, maybe, since Magnus had mentioned him earlier. He supposes demon-fucker is better than Circle member.  

“You killed Lilith,” Magnus says after a moment, golden eyes sliding back to Alec.

“Yeah.” Alec looks at his hands. His skin seems drier already, his knuckles chalky and cracking. Jace had begged him to hold on, but Alec doesn’t know how much longer he can survive in Edom. “With heavenly fire.”

“In what form?”

Alec reaches for his blade, intending to show Magnus and explain, but pain lances through his head, sharp enough to momentarily blind him. Everything blurs down to the burning agony coursing through him. 

When it subsides, Alec finds himself on his knees, fingers digging into hot sand. He’s breathing hard, gulping down poison air to try to appease his angry lungs. He really hates Edom.

“Alec? Are you alright?”

He is very obviously not alright. It takes several blinks to orient himself before he can even brush the sand from his aching palms. His legs feel too weak to support him so he shifts to sit rather than stay on his knees. The hellhound noses at his arm, clearly concerned. 

To meet Magnus’ gaze, Alec has to look up. He hopes the full extent of his desperation isn’t obvious, but that’s probably just wishful thinking when he can’t even stand. He swallows his pride. “Can you help me?”

For a moment, Magnus looks so vulnerable and so human that Alec wonders how he could’ve ever mistook him for a demon. Then, Magnus looks away, his expression going distant. Alec’s hopes shatter. “I wish I could, but I’m afraid there’s not much I can do.”

He’d known it was a long shot. Magnus doesn’t owe him anything even if he could help. To hear that he can’t, that Alec is on the same path as before they met, shouldn’t hurt this much. Alec will die. Jace and Izzy will be hurt, but they’ll move on without him. All he has to do is make peace with the situation. 

Relying on the hellhound’s assistance, Alec is able to get to his feet. He might be dying, but he’s not going to lay down and wait for death to find him. 

“Perhaps you could make a deal with my father,” Magnus says.

Alec snorts. He’s not stupid enough to make a deal with a greater demon; he’s seen what they charge. Better to die with his soul intact than live after bartering it away. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Alec, do you know what’s happening to you?”

Alec shrugs, hating the concern he can see in Magnus’ eyes. He doesn’t need another person to disappoint, another person to leave behind. It’ll be easier for them both if Magnus doesn’t care. “I’m dying, right? Shadowhunters can’t survive in Edom, it’s killing me.”

“You’re right about the first part, but you’re not a mere nephilim anymore, are you?” 

Alec would like to blame what happens next on his poor health, but he knows he’d let his guard down. He’d begun to trust Magnus. A bad decision, apparently, since before Alec can react, Magnus is drawing his sword and slashing it across Alec’s forearm.

Alec jolts back, more shocked than hurt. The stinging pain barely registers after everything he’s been through in the last twenty-four hours. 

The hellhound lurches forward, hackles raised, a low growl in her throat. Magnus drops the sword and raises his hands in a motion of surrender that does little to appease the demon. Alec’s eyes gravitate to where the shifting of Magnus’ sleeves reveals the tops of pristine bandages abound both wrists.

 Magnus nods toward Alec’s injured arm. “Just making a point.”

It takes effort to look away from Magnus’ bandages and follow his gaze. There’s a thin line where Magnus’ blade had cut Alec’s arm, but the skin has already begun to heal itself. Except, it’s not skin that’s growing back. A shiny golden scale pattern covers the wound like a scar. When Alec presses his fingers to it, he finds the surface surprisingly smooth and cold as ice.

He lets out a low whistle to call off the demons that had been closing in around Magnus. Alec can sense their anger in the low growls and curl of claws, ready to tear Magnus apart for harming their new king. Alec, though, is more afraid of his own changing body to be scared of Magnus. What can Magnus do to him that is worse than this?

He fumbles for his stele and draws an Iratze directly over the patch of scales. It itches as the familiar burn sinks in before the scales begin to withdraw. They disappear just long enough for Alec to breathe a sigh of relief. Only seconds later, they creep back into place, emerging from the skin around his new rune.

“What…What’s happening to me?”

The way Magnus’ eyes soften feels a lot like pity. He shifts his bag from his shoulders to extract a water bottle from within and hand it to Alec. He reaches for it without a second of hesitation, desperate to ease the burning of his dry throat, to soften the sandpaper feel of his tongue.

He gulps down a few swigs of water, not bothering to worry if it’s been tampered with. It feels like drops of heaven as it travels through him, cooling the heat in his chest. 

“I think—that is, it looks as though…Edom might be changing you.”

Fear forms an iron grip around Alec’s heart. He clutches the water bottle, resisting the urge to scratch at the scales along his arm, to see if he can dig them out with his nails. “Changing me into what?”

“I wish I knew. I’m afraid you’re the first known nephilim to become ruler of a hell realm, this is rather uncharted territory. If I had to guess, though, I’d say it’s turning you into something that can survive here.”

Alec leans heavily on the hellhound at his side. She supports him without complaint, pressing against him to keep him upright. “A demon.”

“Possibly,” Magnus agrees, picking up his sword and sheathing it. “I can’t say for certain.”

Alec nods, feeling his resolve harden. If he dies in Edom, his family will mourn, but they’ll move on. The world will forget him. If he becomes a demon, himself but not, and finds his way back to Earth, who knows what damage he could do.  He could hurt people, he could hurt his family. He refuses to lose himself that way.

With a little sigh, Alec pushes off the hellhound. He ignores the pain that lances through his legs as he takes a step toward Magnus. “You have to kill me.”

Magnus’ bright gold eyes widen. “That’s—”

“Please,” Alec grits out. He holds the water bottle toward Magnus, and when the warlock reaches for it, Alec grabs his wrist. He keeps his hold light, but his eyes insistent. “Please, Magnus. You get it, right? Why I can’t become a demon?”

Magnus frowns as he pulls his arm away. Alec lets his hand fall to his side, watching as Magnus puts the water away. “I understand your fear, but I can’t even cut you without you healing it, what makes you think I could kill you?”

“Do it in one blow,” Alec feels disconnected from his words. It’s easier to think of this without any emotion, like he’s not talking about his own death. This is the best option he has. It’s the only option.

“Alec…I can’t, I’m sorry. If I kill you, Edom will make me a king in your place.”

Alec hadn’t considered that. Guilt over the selfishness of his request floods him, bringing a heavy dose of shame that tints his face pink. He has no right to ask Magnus to take his place. Whatever the warlock’s reasons are for being in Edom, he probably doesn’t want to be inexorably tied to it.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” Alec draws his new dagger and studies his reflection in the metal. It’s tinted red, but he can’t tell if that’s due to the blade’s heavenly fire or Edom. “My family knows of you, so they might look for you if you return to Earth. Could you tell them…just, tell them I love them? And I’m sorry I couldn’t make it back?”

“Why? What are you planning?”

Alec can’t look at Magnus. He needs to do this before he loses his nerve, before he loses his mind. “You should go.”

“Alec, hold on a moment. I don’t know what Edom will do if you try to kill yourself, but it’s not going to be pretty. Don’t do this.”

Alec shakes his head, but the motion makes him dizzy. He leans against the hellhound again. It’s nice to have something soft and warm supporting him, but it’s not enough to distract him from the fact that his body is already giving up. How long before it turns into something monstrous? “There’s no going back for me, is there? I don’t have time to wait around hoping for a miracle cure.”

“Look, I’ll help you, alright?”

It’s the sheer desperation in Magnus’ voice that makes Alec finally look up. Magnus is so pretty: amidst the endless red, he’s a beacon of color, of life. And he’s looking at Alec like Alec kicked his puppy. 

Alec wishes he could believe Magnus. He wants to live, and he wants to comfort Magnus. But the warlock had already admitted there’s nothing he can do. He’s only trying to stop Alec from doing what he needs to.

“I’m sorry,” Alec says, turning away. His hands shake, from exhaustion or pain or fear, he doesn’t know.

“Alec—”

Alec plunges the dagger into his chest before he can talk himself out of it, before he can become something vicious and terrible.

Searing pain rockets through him before everything fades to black.

Notes:

specific warning: suicide attempt after Alec learns what's happening to him.

Chapter 9: Magnus

Summary:

Alec isn't dead, so Magnus takes him to Asmodeus.

Notes:

Happy Pride! Have some depressed gays <3

The hellhound lets out a sharp cry of agony as Alec’s crumples. The crowd of demons, who’d fallen mostly silent around Alec, start up a cacophony of unhappy noises. Magnus reaches for his sword, ready for an attack, but the demons gravitate away from him, toward Alec. They move slowly, tilting their heads, reaching out, inspecting. They’re curious. 

With a healthy dose of hesitance, Magnus inches forward until he can see Alec again. He’s gone pale and still, but even with his shirt in the way, there’s a disconcerting lack of blood around where the knife protrudes from his chest. 

The demons shift enough to allow Magnus space, and he kneels beside Alec’s body. It sets his hair on edge, being surrounded by so many threats, but most of his attention is on Alec. Alec, who’d just driven a blade into himself. Alec, who Magnus is meant to lead to Asmodeus like a lamb to slaughter. 

He feels sick as he reaches for the dagger. He can feel the warmth of the heavenly fire radiating from the metal before he touches it, and he braces for pain. But when his fingers wrap around the hilt, it doesn’t burn. He tugs the weapon from Alec’s body. It makes a nauseating squishing sound as it pulls free, the blade bloody. 

Magnus can’t see what’s happening to the wound under Alec’s shirt, even with the torn fabric, but color rushes back into Alec’s cheeks. His runes burn red. He inhales fast and desperate, gasping for air. His chest rises and falls once before his eyes shoot open to reveal scarlet irises. 

“Fuck,” Alec mutters, one hand clutching at his head, the other at his chest. He lifts his shirt—now is very much not the time to ogle his impressive abs—and peers at his chest. Gold scales like the ones along his arm have formed a patch over his heart, directly where the dagger had sunk in. Alec lets his shirt fall. “That should’ve killed me. Why didn’t that kill me?”

As though Magnus has any more about what’s happening than Alec. All of his time in Edom hadn’t prepared him for this. It was a boring place mostly, filled with nothing but demons and their senseless violence. Until, suddenly, it wasn’t. 

It's a morbid curiosity that makes Magnus wish he had a notebook to write all of this down and record what was happening to Alec. He hates himself for even entertaining the idea when he sees the helplessness etched into Alec’s features. He looks terrified. The fear makes him look younger, harmless and innocent.  

The empathy Magnus thought had burned out years ago rushes back in to squeeze around his heart. He wants to help Alec, and that’s a terrifying thought because how can he? He can’t even help himself. 

He tugs his fingers away from where he’s been absentmindedly scratching around the bandage on his wrist. 

“I’ll help you as much as I’m able,” he finds himself saying, the words sounding distorted and far away. “Let me take you to my father.”

If it’s death Alec wants, Asmodeus will be more than happy to oblige him. Magnus will do his best to expedite the process and then spend the rest of his life, on Earth, wishing he could’ve done more. If only he could free Alec from Edom’s grip.

It’s a testament to how bad Alec must feel that he doesn’t even try to argue. He just nods, blinking as the color of his irises fades back to the pretty mix of earthly hazel. When Alec tries to stand, his legs give out beneath him, sending him crashing back to the sand. The hellhound at his side whimpers, lying beside him with its side pressed firmly against Alec.

Magnus has never seen a demon act so… loving . They obey their rulers, protect them, of course, but that comes from a sense of duty. As far as Magnus can see, they’re motivated by an ingrained desire for order and the hope that if they serve well they will be permitted to wreak havoc. This is different. It seems like the hellhound likes Alec, like it wants to comfort him. It’s unnatural. 

“I can’t walk,” Alec breathes, shoving a hand through his hair and leaning back against the hellhound. 

“I don’t think you’ll need to,” Magnus says, glancing meaningfully at the hellhound looming behind him, larger than a horse. 

Alec follows his gaze. “Do you think she’d mind?”

The demon huffs and noses Alec’s arm where his rune is still burning red. Alec nods. “Okay.” He gets to his feet, leaning heavily against the hellhound while Magnus watches. 

The way Alec wavers, swaying dangerously from side-to-side, makes it look like he’s seconds away from collapsing again. Sweat beads have appeared at his temples, and Magnus isn’t sure whether they’re due to heat or exertion or both.

Something in him snaps, and suddenly, he can’t take it any longer. He closes the distance between them to lay a hand on Alec’s arm, steadying him. “Let me help.”

Even without Magnus’ magic, they’re able to work together enough to get Alec onto the hellhound’s back. He clutches handfuls of her fur. His eyes are wide, but he looks like he’s having trouble staying conscious, sweaty and pale, eyelids fluttering with his rapid blinks. 

Magnus sighs and hesitantly sets a hand on the hellhound’s neck. He’s hoping they’ve reached enough of a truce that she won’t immediately murder him for the contact. “Do you mind?”

She lets out a little huff, steam bellowing from her nostrils, and Magnus takes that as agreement. He swings himself onto her back behind Alec. Right away, he hates being there, vulnerable to the whims of the demon below him. She gets to her feet, and Magnus uses his legs to keep himself stable. After a moment of deliberation, in which Alec nearly slides off the hellhound’s back, Magnus wraps his arms around Alec’s waist. 

Alec leans against him, probably lacking the strength to keep himself upright. When he speaks, it’s so quiet Magnus almost thinks he imagined it, “Thanks.”

Alec is warm, which should feel gross in a place as hot as Edom, but it’s so nice. He’s solid and soft, smelling of musk and shampoo. Magnus can feel Alec’s heartbeat and every ragged breath. He swallows hard, telling himself he’s just exceptionally lonely and touch starved, and he’d feel attached to anyone who showed up. He tries to make himself believe Alec is nothing special, nothing more than a dead boy walking.

It’s obvious Edom is draining him. Whether it’s more to do with his inability to survive there as a Shadowhunter or the mysterious processes happening within him, Alec is fading fast. Magnus holds him a little tighter, wishing uselessly that things were different. 

When the hellhound starts walking, the other demons follow in a loose, lazy pattern. It’s a relief to not be surrounded by them on all sides.

“Why did you come to Edom?” Magnus asks after a few minutes of silence. 

He shouldn’t break it, shouldn’t let himself know anything more about Alec than he already does. But he can only imagine the torrent that must be taking place in Alec’s head, the fear and the exhaustion and the pain. Magnus had promised to help. Maybe he can distract Alec from his misery, just for a few minutes. If he could access the Spiral Labyrinth, if his magic wasn’t bound, could he find a way to undo all of this? Was such a thing even possible?

Alec is quiet long enough for Magnus to wonder if he’s gone unconscious before he says, “Do you know of Jonathon?”

It takes Magnus a moment to place the name. “Lilith’s son?”

“He used some kind of old rune to tie himself to Clary—my, uh…friend. If she got hurt, he did too, and vice-versa.” 

The sound of it makes Magnus’ wrists and ankles itch. It sounds too much like what Asmodeus did to him; it makes him wonder if it was the same kind of dark magic applied via rune rather than magic.

“Eventually, we were able to sever it and kill him,” Alec continues. “But I was impaled by shards of a heavenly weapon in the process. I came to Edom to see if I could get rid of the heavenly fire and to track down Lilith before she came after us for revenge. I didn’t expect my friends to follow me here, and I didn’t know about Edom’s rules of inheritance.”

Of course, Alec hadn’t realized what he was doing when he killed Lilith. It makes Magnus feel all the worse for him. But Shadowhunters die young. It’s what they do. Why should Alec be any different?

“Where are those friends now?” Magnus asks, knowing it’s not fair even as he does. But he shouldn’t be the only one here with Alec.

“None of us realized I couldn’t go back with them until they were already through the portal. I made sure they wouldn’t return. They don’t need to see this.”

Magnus frowns, resting his chin on Alec’s shoulder. Alec is just like him. Trapped, helpless, alone. 

Alec lifts a hand, touching one of the bandages around Magnus’ wrists. He manages not to flinch away, but it’s a close call. “What are these?”

“A gift from my father.” The curse itches more when he thinks about it so he tries not to. He’s itchy a lot, but he’s grown accustomed to it. The itch, the thirst, the loneliness—it’s just how life is here. 

“He hurt you.”

“Greater demons aren’t known for their kindness.” 

“But you think he can help me?” 

Magnus doesn’t say anything. Asmodeus won’t be able to help Alec the way he wants, but Magnus doesn’t think anyone can. Alec will either become a demon or die. He’s already made clear which option he prefers.

“Oh,” Alec says after a minute.

“If there was another way—”

“No, I know. There’s not.”

When Alec asked Magnus to kill him, he’d sounded resolute more than anything. Only now does Magnus hear Alec’s sadness and know with blinding certainty that Alec does not want to die. 

He holds Alec a little tighter as his eyes begin to burn with tears he won’t let himself shed. He’s glad Alec can’t see him. It’s pathetic, wanting to cry over someone he just met. But he hadn’t spoken to another human in nearly two decades. He’d forgotten how deeply he could hurt on behalf of someone else. 

They fall silent, and Magnus manages to get himself under control by the time the hellhound reaches Asmodeus’ decrepit castle. His stomach clenches as soon as it’s within sight, sinking deeper with every step.

He can only hope Asmodeus makes this quick. He’ll have to hide that he cares, though. If Asmodeus knows that Magnus is feeling sympathetic, he’ll draw things out. He’ll try to use Alec against him. Alec deserves better than that, they both do.

When they reach the steps of the ruins, Magnus jumps off the hellhound’s back, keeping a hand on Alec’s waist to steady him. The hellhound whines softly, pressing her belly to the ground and staring up at Asmodeus’ castle, making it clear she doesn’t want to go inside.  Magnus can’t blame her. 

He helps Alec down, supporting most of Alec’s weight and feeling the shivers going through him. 

“Wait,” Alec says, reaching for his dagger. “Here. Don’t let your father get it?”

Magnus takes the blade, trying not to think about how Alec had driven it into his own chest not long ago. He tucks it into his bag, firmly out of sight. “Are you ready?”

Alec pauses, turning to stroke the hellhound’s head. She presses into his palm. “Thanks. You don’t have to come inside, alright?”

The hellhound whines, but stays where she is when they step away from her. Alec nods, and Magnus can see the way he’s holding himself together, the cracks in Alec’s composure: his flushed, sweaty skin and the shivers going through him. He looks ready to keel over, but his eyes harden as he mutters, “Let’s meet Asmodeus.” 

Chapter 10: Alec

Summary:

Alec's introduction to Asmodeus goes even worse than expected.

Magnus has to practically carry Alec into the castle ruins because his legs have all but given up. It’d be embarrassing if Alec had the energy to care. Pain radiates through his muscles, his legs shaking with every step. His runes radiate a constant crimson glow. He can feel his body shutting down, and he’s terrified that if he gives into it, he’ll never wake up. Not truly, at least. Not as himself.

He and Magnus climb the few crumbling stairs at the entrance and pass through a dusty, broken-down entryway. It leads into the remains of what can only be a throne room where a greater demon waits on one of the stone thrones. 

The first thing Alec thinks is that the demon doesn’t look like Magnus. The family resemblance is there, they have the same eyes and face shape, but there’s a cruelty to this Edomite creature that Magnus doesn’t posses. 

“What is this?” The demon drawls, the corners of his lips turning up in a cold smile. “Have you brought me a stray Shadowhunter?”

“Asmodeus. Father. This is Alec, he’s responsible for Lilith’s demise.”

 Asmodeus’ eyes brighten as he observes Alec with an intensity that makes him want to shrink away. Every cell in his body tells him to run, or fight, but what would be the use? He presses a little closer to Magnus instead. He takes comfort in the morbid thought that at least he won’t die alone.

Asmodeus stands and approaches them with slow, easy steps. “You expect me to believe Lilith was killed by a lowly nephilim?”

“It’s the truth,” Alec says, meeting Amodeus’ gaze head-on, refusing to shrink away.

“How?” Asmodeus circles them like Alec is prey he can’t wait to devour. It sends shivers down his spine. 

“Holy fire.”

“In what form?”

“I…me? I wielded it against her.”

Asmodeus hums. “Interesting.” He turns to Magnus. “What’s wrong with his runes?”

“Does it matter?”

“Humor me.”

Magnus narrows his eyes, his fingers twitching against Alec’s side. “You know as well as I do that It’s irrelevant. We have a deal, unless you intend to renege on your word.”

Alec’s stomach clenches, cold settling over his bones. Magnus had a deal with is father. Presumably, involving Alec somehow. 

The run in with Magnus couldn’t have been a coincidence. Of course, it hadn’t. Magnus wasn’t some lost warlock wandering the sands of Edom. He’d been doing his father’s bidding, searching for Alec. Alec had blamed the other demons’ distrust and aggression on their natural instincts, but it was likely they’d recognized the true threat Magnus possessed long before it occurred to Alec.

 “You did well bringing him here, but he looks like he’s about to die of natural causes. It would be…enlightening to see what happens to him. I’ve waited this long to take my rightful place as supreme ruler of Edom, I can wait a bit longer.”

Everything clicks into place. 

Magnus’ father, Asmodeus, is a ruler of Edom. Alec should’ve realized as soon as he heard the name. Asmodeus must know about the succession laws, perhaps he’d even noticed Lilith’s death as soon as it happened. 

Alec had been naive enough to trust Magnus. He’d found him comforting. The warlock who had, apparently, hunted him down as a favor to his father and had been planning his death since before they met. Was that why he’d tried to stop Alec from killing himself? He wanted to ensure no one but his father did it? Were his wounds really from his father, or was that another lie?

Alec yanks away from Magnus, but his legs are still weak. He stumbles, only barely managing to catch himself against a pile of books before he can hit the floor. At least a shred of his dignity is preserved.

“I bet you’d have a field day watching me waste away,” Alec says with what’s left of his strength. “Until I become something more powerful than you.”

Asmodeus’ eyebrows shoot up. “You believe you can become more powerful than me when you can barely stand?”

Alec holds up his arm, showing off his red runes and gold scales. “Edom is changing me. It’s turning me into something new, something that looks a lot like invincible. Sure, keep me alive, but don’t be surprised if I become something you can’t destroy.”

The twitch in Asmodeus’ jaw suggests Alec has struck a nerve. Good. Since he seems incapable of offing himself, he needs to provoke someone else into doing it. He has no desire to sit around and watch himself become a demon, surrounded by enemies.

“Shadowhunters are all the same, aren’t you?” Asmodeus drawls. “Such ego.”

Alec leans a little too heavily against the books and they go sliding. The pile collapses, sending him to the ground, and destroying what little dignity he had left. Sharp stone digs into his hands, but when he checks his palms, they’re not bleeding. More gold scales have spread across his skin. Whatever kind of demon he’s turning into, it sure is shiny. 

Alec wants to get back to his feet, but he knows he’ll never manage it without help. Instead, he shifts to sit more comfortably on the floor, leaning against a different pile of books. It’s not great, but better than being on his hands and knees. 

He meets Asmodeus’ gaze, trying to project confidence he doesn’t feel. He hopes they can’t see how tired and desperate he truly is. “If you dislike Shadowhunters so much, why don’t you do something about it?”

Asmodeus’ answering smile is sardonic, but calm. Too calm. “Good try, truly, I applaud the effort. But I’m far too curious to kill you before I see what you become.”

“You promised,” Magnus says lowly.

“All in due time, my boy. I still intend on killing the Shadowhunter, and I’ll keep my side of our deal when I do. In fact, as a sign of good faith and to show my gratitude…”

Asmodeus crosses the room toward Magnus who looks increasingly uncomfortable. Alec wishes he could enjoy it, but he just feels miserable. 

Asmodeus grabs Magnus’ arm, making the warlock flinch and grimace, and taps the bandage around Magnus’ wrist. It falls away, but Alec isn’t close enough to see the skin beneath. He can’t make out more than a faint red line. 

When Asmodeus presses a finger to Magnus’ wrist directly over the line, it glows bright blue before disappearing. Magnus gasps, tearing his arm away to study it. He curls his fingers and a ball of flame appears in his hand. 

More pieces click into place.

A warlock in Edom, a greater demon returning something to him. Alec abruptly realizes that though Magnus carries a magic sword, Alec hasn’t seen him actually use his own magic.  

“Keep my new pet somewhere he can’t escape. I’ll undo the rest soon enough.”

Magnus’ eyes narrow like he wants to argue, but he just nods and ducks his head. Asmodeus glances at Alec. “And you…try not to die. It’d be quite a disappointment to both me and my son if something happened to you before this transformation is complete.”

All Alec can do is spit in Asmodeus’ direction. If he still had his dagger, he’d try putting it through his heart again just to spite the demon. Maybe he’d missed before, maybe this time it’d work. But he doubts Magnus will return the weapon now. 

He reaches for the hilt of the Seraph blade still on his leg, unsure if he’ll even be able to lift it. He doesn’t get the chance to try. Asmodeus notices movement and flicks his fingers, magicking it away to somewhere unknown. 

“None of that, now,” Asmodeus says casually, stepping past him. He retrieves one of the many books from one of the many piles around the room and walks out. 

Alec glares after him, considering retrieving his bow and arrows. His arms ache, but maybe he could lift them long enough to get one good shot. That’s all he’d need. And then what? He becomes Supreme Ruler of Hell as opposed to Shared Custody Ruler of Hell? That’s not a promotion he particularly wants. 

Once Asmodeus is gone, Magnus sighs. Alec ignores the sound. He closes his eyes and leans his head against the book stack behind him. It’s the furthest thing from comfortable, but he’s so exhausted he might be able to fall asleep anyway. At least that would allow him a temporary escape from everything.

“Come on, let’s find you somewhere more comfortable to pass out.”

Alec forces his eyes open and finds Magnus crouching in front of him. He looks almost concerned; Alec doesn’t know why he’s bothering with the act anymore. He’d made it very clear they aren’t allies, much less friends. “I’m fine here.”

“I’m sure the books are very cozy,” Magnus says dryly. “But seeing as how I’ve been tasked with your wellbeing—”

“You mean keeping me alive as your dad’s science experiment?”

Magnus purses his lips, glancing over his shoulder in the direction Asmodeus had left in. “I know this isn’t ideal.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Being stuck in hell while slowly turning into a demon isn’t exactly my dream vacation,” Alec says with all the bite he’d normally put into attacking. If only he had the energy for that.

“Let me make you a little less miserable then,” Magnus says, withdrawing the water bottle from his bag and holding it out in offering. 

Alec only accepts because it feels like his throat has been set on fire. He drinks more than his fair share, figuring Magnus can summon more if he’s thirsty. 

“What did he do to you?” Alec asks between sips. His throat still aches, but the water soothes the worst of the burning.

Magnus looks down at his wrists, one still bandaged, the other exposed. He removes the bandage and holds his arm out for Alec to see. A thin scarlet brand is seared into his skin. Several parallel scars intersect it, like Magnus had tried to claw it out. “Bound my magic, bound me to him.”

“Unless you brought me to him.”

“He’s tired of sharing power; he wants to be Edom’s sole ruler. He promised to release me if I helped him.”

Alec sighs and caps the water bottle. His anger dissipates; he doesn’t have the energy to sustain it anymore. He can’t help but see himself in Magnus, both of them trapped and alone. Both of them aching for home. They were never on each other’s team so much as they relied on each other as tools for survival. 

Only one of them was ever going to survive, and it wasn’t Alec. 

Handing Magnus the bottle, Alec gets to his feet. His vision fills with dark spots, but he clutches the stack of books until it passes. Standing takes more energy than he’d usually expend fighting. He’s glad his family isn’t there to see how pathetic he’s become. 

“I need to carry you,” Magnus says seconds before sweeping Alec off his feet. He clutches at Magnus as the world sways, body too heavy to truly protest, but something innate demanding he do his best to avoid being dropped. 

Alec grimaces into Magnus’ shoulder as he settles. He’s never been carried like this before, like a bride on her honeymoon. It makes him feel both smaller than he is and far too large. He’s not carry-sized, and he doubts Magnus could’ve managed this without the magic Asmodeus had just returned to him. 

His eyes fall closed as Magnus carries him deeper into the broken castle. There’s no reason to stay awake any longer, so he gives in to the exhaustion. He loses track of place and time, existence fading into the discomfort that has settled into his bones and the gentle sway of movement. 

At some point, he’s aware of being lowered, but it’s not enough to truly wake him. He hovers somewhere between sleep and consciousness that douses the world in a hazy shade of gray behind his closed eyelids. So when he hears a quiet murmur of apology, he can’t be sure whether he’s dreamed it. 

Deciding it doesn’t matter, Alec sinks more fully into the gentle reprieve of sleep, hoping he’ll still be himself when he wakes. 

Chapter 11: Lorenzo

Summary:

Lorenzo's morning is rudely interrupted.

Lorenzo Rey isn’t surprised when a Shadowhunter shows up at his door less than a week after he’d trekked to Edom with the gaggle of them. He’s been waiting for them to pay him a visit ever since he refused to reopen the portal. The only real surprise is that it’s a lone Shadowhunter rather than the packs they seem to prefer traveling in.

He debates not answering the door, but knowing Shadowhunters, they’d just break it down. He heaves a long-suffering sigh as he pulls it open. “You know I have better ways to spend my Sundays than entertaining a hapless Shadowhunter.”

Jace looks awful. He’s never looked particularly good, at least he’s never been Lorenzo’s type, but he’s clearly sunk to a new level since losing his parabatai. There are deep bags under his eyes. His usually gelled hair hangs limp over his forehead. His clothes fall like he’s been wearing them a few hours longer than recommended. “Yeah, well, there aren’t a lot of warlocks that can create portals to Edom.”

“If you’ve come to inform me that I’m magically gifted, I can assure you, I’m already aware,” Lorenzo says, turning away from the door and striding into his house. He knows Jace will follow; Shadowhunters never leave until they’ve said their piece or tried to kill someone. 

He goes to his minibar, deciding if it’s late enough for visitors, it’s late enough for a drink. 

“You know what I want,” Jace says, predictably following Lorenzo into his living room. 

“A scotch on the rocks?”

“I don’t have time for games. My parabatai is stuck in Edom, and no one seems to care but me.”

Lorenzo very much doubts that. He’d seen how the loss of Alec Lightwood had affected everyone who’d gone to Edom when they returned empty handed. And it is a loss. As much as Lorenzo generally tries to avoid dealing with Shadowhunters, being High Warlock comes with certain demands. 

As far as Shadowhunters go, Alec was one of the best he’d worked with. 

The Downward Cabinet was a fanciful thing, rooted in wishful thinking, that Lorenzo doubted could be maintained long term in the real world. It was also the first attempt any Institute had made to work with the Downward instead of against or over them in a long time. 

Alec was young, naive and demanding, but he was genuine in a way that was rare for his kind. Lorenzo is sure the loss will be felt acutely when the New York Institute elects its new Head. Even if the lovely Isabelle steps up to the challenge, things won’t be the same, especially with her brother missing. 

While the Shadowhunters mourn their friend, Lorenzo is left wondering how his disappearance will impact the fragile peace. The warlocks who look to him for leadership and protection are his priority.

“I have little interest in games, Mr—remind me, what last name do you go by now, anyway?”

“Make me a portal.”

Lorenzo turns, drink in hand, to glare at the blond who’d interrupted his morning. He looks out of place, grimey and tired against all of Lorenzo’s beautiful furniture and artistry. “I don’t do magic for Shadowhunters just because they snap their fingers at me. Not to mention that your parabatai himself specifically asked me not to do that. Are you so desperate to ignore his dying—”

“It was not a dying wish because Alec. Is. Not. Dead,” Jace growls, his eyes feral. 

He’s desperate. Possibly desperate enough to sink to violence if he can’t get his way. Lorenzo isn’t worried about being hurt, he’s more powerful than this Shadowhunter can even imagine, but an attack would cause a whole mess with the accords and the council. He quite hopes it can be avoided. He sighs and sips his drink. “What is your plan?”

“What?”

Lorenzo grimaces. He hates playing babysitter to adults who really ought to know better. “Are you intending to simply march into Edom and demand the return of your parabatai? Because hell realms rarely care what people want. ”

“I—”

“You have no plan, no allies, and no portal. Even if I made you one, all you’d do is get yourself killed trying to bring back someone Edom has decided it would rather like to keep. You cannot hope to win a fight against Edom itself, no matter how big your glowy sword is. You’re wasting our time.”

Jace’s hand goes to the hilt of the aforementioned sword, but he doesn’t draw it. The first wise move he’s made all day. 

“Now, if you truly want to get Alec back, I suggest you make a plan,” Lorenzo continues, hoping to give Jace enough to get him to leave without more of a fuss. “Find out if it’s possible to save him. Getting yourself killed isn’t going to help anyone, certainly not your parabatai, who’s already fighting for his life.”

“I’m not alone—neither is he. Magnus Bane is there,” Jace says, making Lorenzo tense despite himself. No one had been sure where Bane disappeared to, but there’d been whispers. Lorenzo isn’t surprised to hear he’d apparently set up camp in Edom. Like father, like son. “Catarina said he could help. If I can find him… maybe he knows something.”

“If Magnus Bane is truly in Edom, you should consider him an enemy, not an ally. Even if he could help Alec, he has no reason to. It’s more likely he’ll go after him for the chance to take Edom’s inheritance for himself and rule beside his father. Why do you think he’s down there?”

“Catarina said—”

“Catarina is biased. Magnus Bane is not a solution , he’s an obstacle . Come back when you have a real plan.” Considering Lorenzo has never heard of a situation like the one Alec has found himself in, he doubts Jace will be able to find anything useful. Hopefully, that’s enough to deter the Shadowhunter from bothering him again.

“If I do, you’ll make me a portal?”

Lorenzo takes a long sip of his drink, weighing his options, considering the new information. “If you can come up with a good plan and pay me for my efforts, who am I to stand in the way of an interesting time?”

Jace clenches his jaw, but removes his hand from his sword. “Fine. Okay. Be ready because I will be back.”

With that little declaration, the blond turns and storms out of Lorenzo’s house, finally leaving him to his day. The opportunity for a peaceful morning has vanished entirely, burned away like fog. 

Lorenzo downs the rest of his drink. He wonders if there’s anything at all useful for Jace to find and hopes he won’t have to fulfill his side of their deal.

Chapter 12: Magnus

Summary:

Alec is unconscious for a while. When he wakes up, he’s different.

Notes:

Now I’m off to sleep because I have a minor surgery in the morning that’s gonna put me in debt but the urge to post fanfic continues

Alec doesn’t wake for a long time. Magnus checks on him, more often than he probably should, but he’s bored and lonely, and Alec is always there. Even unconscious, he’s better company than Asmodeus.

Unfortunately, Alec’s sleep seems anything but peaceful. It’s filled with bursts of movement and incoherent mumbling. A couple times, Magnus makes out names. Jace, Izzy, Max. 

He doesn’t recognize any of them—unsurprising given their age difference and how long Magnus has been in Edom—but they’re people Alec cares about, and that makes Magnus curious about them. He wonders what they’re like, where they are right now. He wonders how they’re coping with losing Alec. That train of thought usually leads to thinking about his own friends, wondering what’s become of them. The not knowing makes him miserable. 

Sometimes, when Alec becomes more pink than pale, Magnus lays cool cloths on his burning forehead. Alec sweats and gasps under Edom’s relentless heat until Magnus props him up and helps him drink water. That usually calms him for a little while before the heat gets to him all over again. It’s a torturous cycle.

The longer Magnus cares for Alec, the more he despises Asmodeus for keeping him alive just to watch him suffer. It’s inhumane. 

Even so, Magnus morbidly understands his father’s curiosity. Alec’s runes burn red nearly constantly now. The scales on his arm and palms are spreading, creeping their way across his skin, slowly encasing him in gold.

Part of Magnus hopes Alec will stay unconscious for the remainder of his transformation into whatever Edomite creature he’s becoming, to ease the process. The more selfish parts of him, the ones that long for human company, are quietly pleased when Alec opens his eyes.

Magnus pauses where he’s been wiping the sweat from Alec’s brow.

Alec’s irises are the same bright red as his runes, his eyes are unfocussed as he blinks at the sky. Slowly, he seems to take in his surroundings, tilting his face to look at Magnus. 

“How long have you been in Edom?” Alec’s voice is rough from Edom’s heat and poisonous air.

Magnus swallows, shifting in his chair and wringing the damp cloth between his hands. “I’m not sure. Time works differently here.”

“When do you…”

Alec trails off so Magnus hands him the water bottle he’s been refilling. Alec takes it, but doesn’t attempt to drink. He stares at the bottle, running his thumb through the condensation. 

“When do you give up hope? No one is coming for me, and it’s better that way, but…” Alec pushes onto one of his elbows so he can drink some of the water. “I keep hoping anyway. I was dreaming of them.”

Alec lies back down, and Magnus takes the water to place beside of Alec’s bed once more. His heart squeezes in his chest. He knows the feeling Alec is describing all too well. “I’m not sure.”

“You’re still waiting.”

Magnus shakes his head, but he can’t find the words to disagree. He finally settles on the truth. “No one is coming for me.”

“Me neither,” Alec says, eyes drifting closed. 

Magnus isn’t sure if Alec is still awake, but it’s a pretty clear indication that he’s done talking so Magnus takes the hint. He gently shuts the door to the room he’d repaired behind him as he leaves.

He’s been telling himself not to get attached, but his heart has never been good at listening to his head. He knows it’s useless to care. Alec is dying, and Magnus’ life depends on it. Even if Magnus could protect Alec from Asmodeus, he can’t protect Alec from what he’s becoming. He can’t save Alec. 

He wishes he could stop wanting to. 

 

Asmodeus finds Magnus on the balcony where he’s been watching the barren landscape and sipping something with a dangerously high alcohol content. Things have been strangely peaceful since he brought Alec here. The demons must have made some kind of truce because Alec’s demons are scattered around Asmodeus’ castle, coexisting with Asmodeus’. Every so often, an asmodei will snap at one of Alec’s demons and it’ll growl back, but there haven’t been any fights. It feels like the entire realm is holding its breath, waiting to see what will happen. 

“I see you’re enjoying the return of your magic,” Asmodeus says, lowering into the chair beside Magnus’ and nodding at his drink. 

Magnus takes a long sip and says nothing. He’s tired of Asmodeus drawing things out. Home feels closer and further away than ever.

Asmodeus sighs, tapping black nails along the arm of his chair. “You’ve gone soft for the boy.”

Magnus’ stomach clenches, but he works to keep his face carefully neutral. The more Asmodeus knows, the more power he holds. “The Shadowhunter? You really don’t know my type at all, do you?”

“You’ve always been too soft, Magnus. That’s your problem. So much potential, so much power, wasted because of sentimentality.”

It’s a speech Magnus has heard before. He’d even almost bought into centuries ago when he was a scared child with no one but Asmodeus in his corner. Now, Magnus knows better. He knows what Asmodeus’ idea of power is, and he wants nothing to do with it. 

“The power you’re keeping from me?” Magnus asks instead, running his fingers over the bandage around his left wrist. The itch has gotten worse since Asmodeus removed the first bond. His skin and his magic seem to be vibrating in an attempt to be fully reunited.

“If it’s power you want,” Asmodeus says, flicking his fingers and summoning a thin blade to his hand. “Go kill the boy and take it.”

“And tie myself to Edom forever? Not your best attempt at keeping me here,” Magnus mutters, ignoring the way his heart twists at the idea of killing Alec. Not like it makes a difference, since Alec had been doomed from the moment he set foot in Edom. He’s just a dead man who hasn’t died, not yet.

Asmodeus chuckles and studies the blade he’d conjured. Magnus wonders if he’d intentionally designed it to look like the one Magnus’ mother used to kill herself. Probably, knowing Asmodeus. “Then I suppose I should do it. I rather thought Edom would change him faster; all this waiting is boring.”

“Go ahead.” Magnus sips his drink and does his best to look unbothered. This is the best path, the easiest. Alec wants to die before turning into a mindless demon. Alec signed his death warrant when he tied himself to Edom, but Magnus still has a chance to make it out alive. That path may be lined with violence and guilt, but it is a path that leads home. Magnus misses home like he’d miss a limb, like someone has cut a hole in him. 

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Mind? The sooner you finish him, the sooner you break the curse and return my magic. Unless you don’t plan on keeping your word.”

“I always keep my word.” The blade flickers out of sight as Asmodeus stands. “But not yet. The change is happening faster now, can’t you tell? He’s becoming something, and I can’t wait to see what.”

Magnus doesn’t answer, and Asmodeus leaves him alone on the balcony. He finishes his drink. Asmodeus had been right about the change coming faster; the scales spreading more quickly across Alec’s body. He doesn’t burn up anymore, doesn’t sweat until Magnus has to help him drink or cool him with damp cloths. He still sleeps most of the time, but the change is unmistakable.  

Dropping his empty glass, Magnus vanishes it before making his way inside. His father probably expects him to go to Alec now. He’s definitely been watching Magnus, probably using wards to track him, but Magnus doesn’t care. He’s past caring about anything except his own freedom and making Alec as comfortable as possible. He owes him that much.

 

He finds Alec, more scale than skin, awake and studying his arms. He’s sitting up without any support, flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulders. 

“Good morning,” Magnus says, as if everything isn’t awful. 

Alec glances up with red eyes, letting his hands fall to the bed. “I’m getting stronger.”

“I noticed.” It’s disconcerting to see Alec awake, coherent, and supporting himself after so long unconscious and on the verge of death. 

“Asmodeus is waiting for the transformation to finish before he kills me, isn’t he? He doesn’t care that I’m more vulnerable now.”

Magnus hums his agreement, moving to stand beside the bed where he can take in the shiny scales. He’s never seen a demon like this before. He’s never seen anyone become a demon. “He’s curious, and…”

“And?” Alec asks, slipping out of the bed and stretching his arms over his head. His hair is damp with sweat, but he looks more alive than he has since Magnus met him. It’s worrying.

“He’s…keeping you alive because of me,” Magnus admits, the guilt washing over him in waves. Alec raises an eyebrow in question. “We made a deal, but he doesn’t want to pay up. And…he thinks if he leaves you alive longer, I’ll—get attached.”

Alec snorts. “Why?”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t actually think you’ll choose a demon’s life over your own, right? I mean, this is your chance to go home.”

Magnus purses his lips, discomfort prickling along his neck and in his gut. Alec isn’t a demon yet. He’s something between demon and nephilim, no longer human but not yet inhuman. He’s an anomaly. But he’s resigned himself to his fate. “I believe he enjoys testing me. He’s trying to prove that I’m too soft.”

Alec rolls his eyes as he ventures out of the room, peering at the walls around him. Magnus follows, curious to see what Alec will do. He wouldn’t put it past Alec to pick a fight with Asmodeus now that he’s awake and feeling stronger.

“Your dad sucks,” Alec mutters as they emerge from the hall into what only kind of resembles a kitchen. It’s where Magnus likes to eat, at least. It’s near the middle of the castle which means it’s further from the demons that pace the yard. “I know he’s a greater demon and all, but no one knows what I’m becoming, right? I might be strong enough to kill him.”

Magnus swallows around his suddenly dry throat. He conjures a meal to the slab that looks kind of like a table, filling it with some of his favorite foods from earth. Comfort food. “If you want to kill him, it’s easy. Just kill me.”

Chapter 13: Alec

Summary:

Asmodeus offers Alec a deal.

Notes:

Sorry for the delay! My surgery went well, but I had some pain and my mom moved out to live with her boyfriend in another state, and my mental health has been iffy. And my computer doesn't want to charge so I had to move the whole fic to the cloud so I can access it. But hopefully I can get back to updating once or twice a week again.

Alec pauses halfway to the stone table filled with food. He’s not hungry, which seems wrong because he can’t remember the last time he ate, but the delicious smells are making his mouth water. It’s almost enough to distract him from what Magnus had just said. “What?”

Magnus waves his hand, magically turning a couple of large chunks of rubble into chairs. He sits on one and pushes a piece of thick french toast onto his plate. “The curse Asmodeus put on me tied us together. If he gets hurt, I get hurt, and vice versa.” 

His hand goes to the choker around his neck. Alec would bet there’s a disturbing story behind it that he’s better off not knowing. He hesitantly sits across from Magnus. “Are you asking me not to kill him?”

“That wouldn’t be fair.”

Probably not. Magnus had brought Alec here so Asmodeus could kill him; he’d been conspiring against Alec since before they met. Alec owes him nothing. But he remembers blurry moments of waking half-conscious to Magnus cooling his fever, offering him water, caring for him. He remembers Magnus holding him so softly on the back of a hellhound. Despite everything, he can’t help but think Magnus cares. 

Or maybe he’s just looking for allies where there aren’t any. Maybe Asmodeus asked Magnus to keep him alive, and everything Magnus had done was just him following his father’s wishes.  

“I don’t know if I’ll be capable of rational thought after…I don’t know if I’ll have a choice.” That’s what scares Alec more than anything else, the idea that he’s going to lose himself to senseless bloodlust. If Asmodeus can’t kill him, what will become of Alec? How many people might he hurt? 

He feels sick. 

Magnus doesn’t say anything. His gaze is focussed on the french toast in front of him. He takes a bite, and irritation boils under Alec’s skin. “You said you’d help me.”

“This is the only way—”

“Leaving everything up to Asmodeus is the only way? He couldn’t kill Lilith.”

“Lilith was queen of demons.”

“And I’m a king of them, right? They listen to me. I’m becoming…something. Who’s to say I won’t be more powerful than Asmodeus or Lilith?”

Alec hopes Magnus’ silence means he’s considering Alec’s words rather than searching for a way to pacify him. Magnus isn’t his ally, but he’s the closest thing to one Alec has. He’s the only one in Edom who might have a chance of understanding Alec’s fear. 

“If I kill him…I don’t want that power, Magnus.” Alec can’t help the desperation seeping into his voice, turning his statement into a plea. He’d grown up knowing his purpose in life was to serve as another of the Clave’s blades, hunting down demons. He was always meant to be a weapon, but he can’t handle the idea of becoming an atomic bomb.

Magnus sighs and steals one last bite of food before getting to his feet. “Come with me.”

Alec follows Magnus through the winding, crumbling halls of the castle. He thinks someone as powerful as Asmodeus ought to have the power to fix up his home, but maybe the demon likes it this way. Alec hates that he can see the red sky from everywhere. It’s a constant reminder of where he’s ended up, how far from home he is.

They end up back in the throne room where Asmodeus’ stone throne sits empty amidst the stacks of books. Magnus begins lighting the candles around the outskirts of the room with a lighter Alec hadn’t seen him retrieve. “Is that necessary?” They certainly don’t need the extra light with the open ceiling and nightless days.

“I think it adds a nice ambiance. Listen, Alexander, I don’t know how to help you without killing you and taking your place,” Magnus says without looking at him. Alec feels his stomach fall all over again and wonders how he still has any hope left to lose. “But, if there’s any other option, it’s in this room.”

For the first time, Alec examines the books. The title of the one closest to him is in an unfamiliar language, but the one under it is in Latin. Mors et Incrementum. Death and Growth. Alec picks it up and opens to a random page. It’s mostly symbols, but there are a few words scribbled around the diagram, labeling it as a spell to raise the dead. 

“This is…”

“Asmodeus is a collector of anything relating to dark magic,” Magnus explains, pocketing his lighter and picking up a book with an eerie glow.

“Dark magic,” Alec repeats, shifting uncomfortably. It’s not unheard of, but dark magic is dangerous. Mundanes hurt themselves all the time trying to summon demons and perform rituals they can’t understand. It’s illegal for Shadowhunters to even attempt such a practice.

Then again, how could Alec possibly make his situation worse? If there’s a way to prevent losing himself to Edom, he needs to find it. Better to be deruned than a monster. He wonders if the mundanes he’d condemned as foolish had felt as desperate as he does now. 

“I’ve never heard of a situation like yours, this might be the first time a Shadowhunter has ever inherited power from Edom, but perhaps there’s something in one of these about the creation of demons or curse fighting that could help.”

Alec thumbs through the pages of the book in his hands, growing more conflicted with every word he reads. “You’ve looked for something to break Asmodeus’ curse, haven’t you?”

Magnus holds up the book in his hand. “This is the spell he used. It says quite clearly that it’s unbreakable by anyone but the caster. I looked for loopholes and cure-alls, but…Well, let’s hope you have better luck.”

Not a particularly comforting statement. Alec sighs, but figures it’s better to have something to do than just sit around and wait for his demise. He gathers a few books, books that the Clave has surely tried to destroy from existence or would if given the chance, and sits against the wall. He wonders if the angels would hear his prayers from Edom before he cracks open the first book.

 

Alec loses track of how much time passes before Asmodeus wanders into the throne room, but it’s long enough for Magnus to have fallen asleep against the opposite wall. He doesn’t wake at his father’s entrance, an open book still in his lap. 

“Enjoying my books?” Asmodeus asks, crossing the room to sit in his throne and pick up the book nearest to him. The title is in something Alec can’t read, but the cover looks similar to that of every other book in the room. Asmodeus has extremely specific taste in books. Even Alec’s little bookshelf in his room at the Institute has more variety. 

Alec narrows his eyes and holds his book a little tighter. It hasn’t yielded anything useful yet, but he doesn’t want Asmodeus taking away his last hope.

“Look, you have a choice,” Asmodeus says in a deceptively gentle voice. “You can keep fighting the inevitable and wasting your time, or you can embrace the power you’ve been granted. You have the chance to become more than you ever thought yourself possible of.”

“Are you trying to give me an inspirational speech right now?” Alec asks dryly, anger thrumming under his skin. “You want me to rule? What happened to wanting me dead?”

Asmodeus smiles, but there’s nothing kind in it. He’s looking at Alec like Alec is a particularly stupid child. “I don’t actually care whether you live or die. I want power, and there are many ways to come into it.”

“So you…want me as an ally?”

“I am curious what you’ll become. Perhaps we could make a good team.”

The last thing Alec wants to do is team up with a king of Edom—no, second last, after becoming one himself. He’s sure Asmodeus would eventually turn on him, but the fact that he’s offering a truce at all is surprising. Or maybe not.

Alec’s eyes flick to Magnus’ sleeping form. “You’re just trying to get out of your deal with Magnus.”

“And if I agreed to let him go if you join me?”

It’s a bluff. It has to be. Alec doesn’t want to lose his only ally, the closest thing he has to a friend, but he can’t keep Magnus in Edom out of selfishness. It wouldn’t be fair to him.

The deal isn’t even a good one. If Asmodeus kills Alec, Magnus will be free, and Alec would rather be dead than demonized and working with Asmodeus. That is… if Alec can keep control of himself long enough to not kill Asmodeus first.  

“What do you mean, join you?” 

“Work with me instead of against me. I’ve always wanted a protege, and Magnus has turned out to be a bit of a disappointment in that regard. Who knows how much power you’ll grow into? We can rule Edom together.”

“Replacing me so easily?” Magnus asks, drawing their attention to him. Alec doesn’t know how long he’s been awake, but he's glaring at his father.

Asmodeus smirks. “By all means, rule beside us. I thought that was rather outside of your interests, though.”

“Alec isn’t going to help you,” Magnus says, getting to his feet. Alec heart hiccups as he wonders how much Magnus had heard. Does he know what he’s sacrificing? Magnus stacks a few books in his arms. “Let’s go.”

After sparing one last glance at the greater demon, Alec swaps the book he’d been leafing through for a couple new ones and follows Magnus out into the hall. “Magnus, he offered—”

“It doesn’t matter. If you agree to help him, how long do you think it will be until he tires of Edom and sets his sights on something more ambitious?”

“Earth? I wouldn’t do that.”

Magnus glances at him, eyes softening. Alec notices the eyeliner he’s wearing for the first time, the way the blue sparkles even in the harsh Edom light, complimenting the gold of his irises. “Not now. But if you lose yourself? If Asmodeus is the only one here to guide you? He will manipulate any deal you make with him. He doesn’t play fair.”

Alec can’t argue. It seems like something Asmodeus would do, something any demon would. Will he be like that too? Will he be capable of it? He’s never been good at manipulation, but why wouldn’t Edom change that too?

He looks down at his hands where his nails are growing black and elongating at the tips. He’s growing claws. He’s running out of time. 

“Let’s continue our research in my room,” Magnus says, pushing open the first real door Alec has seen here. His room looks like the rest of the castle, except it actually has a ceiling. A ceiling displaying a dark night full of stars. There aren’t stars in New York, but it makes Alec homesick nonetheless. 

“I enchanted it,” Magnus says, catching him looking, “when Asmodeus returned some of my magic.”

“It’s nice.”

“I can’t decide if it helps or not.” 

Alec nods. The reminder of home is nice in a way that makes his heart hurt. He imagines being trapped in Edom for years, time stretching endlessly with no way to mark it, the memory of home growing fuzzy. He needs to keep himself sane so Asmodeus can kill him and complete his deal with Magnus. If he dies, at least one of them will get to go home.

He sits on the edge of Magnus’ bed and opens his book. Maybe this one will offer something, anything, he can cling to.

Chapter 14: Magnus

Summary:

Despite his best efforts, Magnus finds himself very much attached to a certain Shadowhunter.

Magnus watches Alec out of the corner of his eye as he skims through one of Asmodeus’ books on dark magic. He wonders if the not-quite-Shadowhunter knows that he’s glowing. The dim golden light might look angelic anywhere else, but it’s eerie in Edom. It emanates from Alec’s scales like firelight. It’s a harsh reminder of how much Alec has already changed and how little time he has left.

The hope and guilt and fear swirling in Magnus’ stomach makes him feel sick. He looks at the book in his lap and flips to a new page that appears to outline the benefits of consuming yin fen in various forms. There’s no mention of the addiction Magnus knows that would create.

He doesn’t have much hope of finding anything useful in his father’s books, but he can’t imagine where else to look for a solution. He can’t allow himself to think about what might happen if Alec becomes as powerful and mindless as he fears. If Alec kills Asmodeus. At least Magnus would be free of Edom.

“Hey, what does this say?”

Alec holds out the book he’s been reading, and Magnus inches closer to peer at the page. An English header titles the glowing sigil ‘Bond Of Souls’. The rest of the page, though, is in Javanese. 

“It’s a soul bondage rune,” Magnus says, skimming the words. When Alec only looks curious instead of amused, he translates the words on the page, “A rune to bind souls of varying frequencies, it allows souls to share various types of magical energy.”

“Like a parabatai rune for warlocks?”

Magnus shakes his head. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but parabatai runes allow two Shadowhunters to share strength during battle?”

“Yeah, but they also let us feel each other,” Alec says, rubbing his hip. Gold scales creep up from under the collar of his shirt.

“A type of soul bond,” Magnus agrees, “but the trials you undergo before the ceremony ensure your souls are matching in frequency. The rune won’t work right if the frequencies differ too radically.”

“But this one will?”

“It seems like this one is specifically designed for souls with different frequencies.” Magnus traces the outline of the rune. Soul magic in general was frowned upon and difficult to find information about. Most people disliked the idea of sharing their soul with anyone, especially someone who might not wait for consent.

“What does that mean? How do you know if souls have a similar frequency without the trials?”

Magnus hesitates, considering what he knows of souls. It’s not much, and who knows how much advancement he’s missed since he’s been stuck in Edom. “It’s thought that demonic magic and angelic magic operate on different wavelengths. That’s why Shadowhunters need runes to channel their magic, but warlocks and seelies don’t.”

“Runes aren’t magic.”

“Aren’t they?”

“Not like what you can do.” Magnus hums noncommittally because this doesn’t seem like the time or place for a debate on what constitutes magic. Alec looks at the book again, his shoulder brushing Magnus’. “So this is for, like, a warlock and a Shadowhunter? Actually, it kind of looks like the alliance rune Clary designed to allow the others to come to Edom.”

Alec traces a few of the lines with his new claws. 

“It would likely work on a warlock and Shadowhunter, but also with any combination of opposing frequencies, such as vampires and seelies. Perhaps even vampires and werewolves.”

“Can we try it?”

Magnus whips his head up to stare at Alec, but he’s still looking at the book. “You want to?”

“I don’t really have anything to lose. I don’t know if it’s fair to ask you—”

“I’ll do it,” Magnus says, the words out of his mouth before he can fully consider what they mean. He’d promised to help Alec only to lead him further into his own nightmare. No soul bond can be worse than the curse his father put on him. “But this is highly experimental. I don’t know what side effects it could have or if it will do anything to slow your transformation.”

“Is there any other option?” Alec asks, absentmindedly scratching at the scales on his bicep. “I’m kind of desperate here.”

Magnus imagines any non-demon creature would feel quite desperate stuck in Edom. Even the demons don’t seem to be happy here, always trying to escape to Earth. 

“Do you have your stele?” It hadn’t seemed worth confiscating when Alec was unconscious, and Magnus had mostly forgotten about it after that. Either Asmodeus hadn’t thought of it or didn’t see the harm in allowing Alec to keep it. 

Alec pulls out his stele. “Are you sure this is how we apply it?”

“Not at all,” Magnus says cheerfully. “I don’t see how else it would be, though. Perhaps with blood? As I said, this is very experimental.”

“Great.” Alec examines the back of his scaled hand. “I don’t know where to draw it.”

The only part of his body not covered in the scales are his face and neck, the scales beginning to creep along the bottom of his defense rune. 

“I imagine it can be applied over the scales,” Magnus says slowly, thoughtfully. “This isn’t a normal Shadowhunter rune, it’s a sigil that should work on both of us. The scales shouldn’t make a difference.”

Alec’s swallows before pulling up the hem of his shirt. Gold scales cover what Magnus is sure would be toned abs, given what the rest of Alec’s body had looked like before the scales. Alec draws the rune onto his lower stomach, and they both watch as it burns a vivid white. 

“Interesting,” Magnus muses, wondering exactly what kind of magic they’re using. “Alright, me next. I’ve always wanted a tattoo. Where do you think it would look best? A soul bond probably isn’t the best choice of tramp stamp, is it?”

Alec raises his eyebrows, the corner of his lip lifting ever so slightly. It’s the smallest sign that he’s at all amused by Magnus’ humor, but it’s something. “Probably not.”

Magnus sighs. Where should he put a soul bond rune tying him to someone who is likely to die very soon? What will happen to the sigil then? He’s not sure he wants to find out.

“I suppose the same place works,” Magnus decides, tugging his button-down out of his pants. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Alec’s face goes a light shade of pink, and Magnus’ heart twists at how adorable Alec looks. Seeing Alec bashful makes him wonder, again, what Alec’s life on Earth was like. 

Magnus has been in Edom a while, but he doubts queer rights for Shadowhunters have advanced much. Has Alec even been able to date someone he’s interested in? Is he going to die a virgin? It’s not a question he can ask someone he barely knows, but if so, it seems like the universe’s idea of a cruel joke to create such a beautiful person and then force them into celibacy. 

“I don’t mind,” Alec says quietly. He leans closer, and Magnus is no virgin, but his breath still catches at the proximity. Alec lowers the stele to his abs, hand not quite touching him, but close enough that Magnus imagines he can feel the warmth radiating off him. 

The sigil burns as Alec draws it, but the pain quickly subsides to a cool flush. It glows red before fading to a shade of blue nearly identical to that of Magnus’ magic.

He reaches down, tracing one edge of it, and Alec shivers. “Oh.”

“You can feel that?” Magnus asks seconds before he feels the bond snap into place. It’s like a rubber band flicking deep within his chest, the sudden emergence of something new paving itself into his consciousness. He has to shut his eyes against the onslaught, pressing a hand to his chest where he can suddenly sense another heartbeat beside his own. Alec’s heartbeat. 

A rush of emotion bombards him: awe, fear, loneliness, connection. It all swirls into a mess until he can’t distinguish the feelings, can’t tell which are his and which are Alec’s. It’s overwhelming. The mass blurs into a confusing panic that itches in his stomach.

“Magnus, hey,” Alec’s voice is soft in the air between them. The feelings dim, the second heartbeat growing quieter. The connection is still there, but it’s as if someone’s laid a blanket over it, dampening it. Magnus’ next breath comes a little easier.

When he opens his eyes, Magnus finds Alec watching him with worry—and familiar golden cat eyes. Without thinking, Magnus brings a hand to Alec’s face, tracing his thumb along Alec’s cheekbone. It feels wrong, seeing his eyes, his warlock mark, on a Shadowhunter. They suit Alec better than red irises, but Magnus misses his natural hazel.

“I think it worked,” Magnus says, dropping his hand as he remembers social etiquette.

Alec doesn’t quite chuckle, but he makes a breathless little noise like laughter that is hopelessly endearing. Magnus tries to banish the thought, trying to turn off the emotion as he remembers the connection spanning between them. Alec seems to know how to handle it better, tuning down his side so it doesn’t overwhelm Magnus, but Magnus doesn’t know how to do that. It’s been a long time since something was so new to him. 

He summons a drink, figuring if he can numb his own feelings, it will surely numb the feedback Alec is receiving. 

“Do you think…” Alec trails off, looking at his hands again. He’s still covered in scales, fingers ending in claws instead of nails. The rune on his neck still glows bright red. 

“I don’t know,” Magnus says as gently as he can. He sips his cocktail and pushes a bit of magic through the bond, testing it. Alec jolts like he’s been electrocuted, hand flying to his new rune. His scales glint like they might be about to fade out of sight before resuming their bright gold color and inching further up Alec’s neck. “I’m sorry.”

Alec shakes his head. “I feel different, more centered now. I didn’t even realize how much it was messing with my head, but it’s like I can think again. I think…even if I keep transforming, I don’t think I’ll lose myself to it. So…thank you.”

The sincerity in Alec’s expression feels like a knife to Magnus’ stomach. Don’t get attached , he tells himself, knowing it’s already too late. Losing Alec might just kill him, especially now that they’re connected like this. It feels disarmingly intimate. What will it feel like when Alec is gone? 

Magnus takes a few gulps of his drink. 

He’s thinking through the potential consequences of the bond, of his life being tied to Asmodeus and his feelings being tied to Alec and what all of that will mean when one of them kills the other, when he feels a flash of heat erupt in his chest. It’s like a flare sparking in his heart. 

“What was that?” His gaze goes to Alec, finding the Shadowhunter watching him intently. 

“You did that before, right? With your magic?” Alec asks. “I—I don’t know if I’m doing it right, but…” He trails off, closing his eyes in focus. Another jolt of white hot magic flashes through Magnus. It’s more intense than any other magic he’s ever felt. Instead of the familiar cool wash of his own magic, this feels blisteringly pure. Angelic magic.

The flare barely begins to dim before another takes its place, burning through Magnus’ blood, quickly overheating him. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s far from comfortable. “Alec—”

“Hang on,” Alec says, sounding like he’s speaking through gritted teeth. His eyes are clenched shut, face contorted in concentration. “I think I can...”

It doesn’t matter that he trails off because two seconds later, another flare washes through Magnus and he promptly blacks out.

Chapter 15: Alec

Summary:

Alec goes into his new soul bond and gets to work.

Alec doesn’t see Magnus collapse, but he feels it. He wants to help, but he’s already so deep within the webs of their bond to even try to figure out how to move his physical body without leaving the bond entirely. He’s not sure he could get back here. He can’t give up. 

Every string of magic that ties him to Magnus is new and vivid, shining lines of blue and white that glow all around him like Christmas lights. Intermixed are strands of red magic, so dark they’re almost black, but occasionally pulsing crimson. The curse Asmodeus had used to tie himself to Magnus. Alec needs to find a way to sever them.

The curse magic spreads out like a map of veins, growing weaker with every burst of angelic magic Alec sends out. They flicker and pulse, burning so bright it stings. He sounds out another wave of magic from somewhere deep inside his chest.

The effort isn’t draining him as much as he thinks it should, some other magic sustaining him as he depletes the wealth of angelic magic at his core. His parabatai rune burns on his hip. It’s the first time he’s been able to feel anything through it since Jace left Edom, and he’s pretty sure that means he’s using Jace’s angelic magic as well as his own. 

He sounds out another flare, watching as the first red strand of magic snaps. It sends out an array of sparks before going dark, fading into oblivion. There are only three left. Three live wires bonding Magnus’ magic, connecting his life to Asmodeus’. 

Alec can feel Magnus’ magic through their bond, a glowing orb of blue getting stronger with each cut strand. The cool energy it emits spurs Alec on. He can feel it encouraging him, can sense its desperation to be fully reconnected with Magnus. 

The heat outside his body picks up, heavy with the feel of demonic magic. He and Magnus aren’t alone anymore. He’s vulnerable, totally outside of himself, but there are only three strands left. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Asmodeus’ voice, seething with fury, reaches Alec where he’s stranded himself somewhere between his soul and Magnus’. 

“I’m undoing what you never should’ve done.” Alec doesn’t know if he speaks the words out loud or just in his head, but he hopes they reach Asmodeus. Another flare of white, another red bond snapped. A jolt of satisfaction goes through him, urging him on. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

Asmodeus’ angry magic is a distant thing. It’s a hot breeze surrounding him, making it harder to breathe. 

He hears a clang like metal on metal and braces himself for pain. When nothing happens, he prods at his new soul bond, checking on Magnus. His vital signs remain what they were when he went unconscious. His magic pulses stronger at his core. 

Alec snaps another strand of red. One more and Magnus will be free. Magnus can go home to Earth, he can tell Alec’s family to stop looking for him. He can give them peace. And Alec will fight Asmodeus. 

There’s a scream as Alec emits another wave of angelic magic, but he can’t tell who it’s coming from, distorted as it is. 

The last bond of demonic magic tying Magnus to Asmodeus snaps with the force of a dying star. It plummets Alec out of the soul bond and back into his own body, the recoil rocking through him. 

His eyes snap open. Edom’s normal red hue grows brighter around him, burning scarlet. 

Everything looks different than when he’d closed his eyes. It’s all brighter, crisper. Asmodeus, standing in the middle of the room with magic circling his fists, is more aura than man. He’s a vague shape, a blob of dark red streaked through with ichor black. There’s a nearly overpowering stench like sulfur radiating from him that makes Alec’s nose wrinkle.

Inside the blob of red, Asmodeus’ face is lined with anger. He lifts his arm, glowing magic gathering in his palm. “ Impossible.”

Asmodeus throws the magic in an arc that slices toward Alec like a blade. He tries to roll out of the way, moving purely on instinct, but his body is heavy and awkward. Nothing is where it should be. The magic hits him with a reverberating clang , bouncing harmlessly off his golden scales in a shower of sparks. 

Asmodeus’ voice comes out in a bellow, “No!” He throws attack after attack of searing magic at Alec. None of it feels worse than a burst of hot air. As much as Alec hates the scales encasing his body, they seem to be good protection against demon magic.

He should focus on subduing Asmodeus or figuring out how to move his new Edom-approved Body, but when Alec feels Magnus waking up, his eyes drift to the warlock. He can’t help it.

He looks over just in time to see Magnus’ eyes open, revealing his stunning gold cat eyes. 

In Alec’s new vision, Magnus glows like the sun. His magic burns in him, an azure blue at his core that flows through his veins, but something—his soul?—burns gold around it. He’s gorgeous. 

And, Alec realizes, Magnus looks as furious as his father. Waves of anger pour through their bond, so strong Alec is tempted to get to his feet and sink his teeth into the first piece of Asmodeus he can reach. An odd impulse since he can’t imagine demons taste good .

Magnus moves before Alec can. He jumps to his feet with magic swirling around him, a tornado of blue. Alec can feel the tug at their bond as Magnus summons it. 

Magnus’ magic shines, creating its own light from within Magnus. Every blink makes Alec dizzy as he struggles to adjust, but he can’t look away.

“How?” Asmodeus screeches, throwing a shield of magic around himself, clearly opting for defense as he realizes Magnus is equipped with the full strength of his magic. He summons a sword to his other hand, making Alec tense. He tries to get to his feet, but he can’t figure out how. He’s not even sure what all of his appendages are. “The only way to break it should’ve been for me to cut it myself.”

“I hardly think the how is important right now,” Magnus says, voice eerily cool as he strikes out with his magic.  It shatters Asmodeus’ shield in one smooth blow, wrapping around the demon like lasso. Magnus easily forces Asmodeus to his knees. The sword clatters to the ground.

“Do you know what I’ve learned from my time in Edom?”

“I taught you power—”

“You were merciless,” Magnus snarls. “You kept me trapped in a prison of your design, cut off from everything and everyone I loved. Now, it’s time for you to experience exactly what that’s like.”

Despite the magic wrapped around him, Asmodeus has the gall to smile. “There’s no prison you can create that I can’t escape from. And I don’t take kindly to threats, even from my own son.”

Alec can’t see Magnus’ face, but he can feel and hear his bitter amusement when Magnus flicks his fingers to open a portal directly behind Asmodeus. It swirls and shimmers with sapphire magic. “Tell me, Father, do you know what happens when you enter a portal unconscious?”

Asmodeus looks almost afraid. The aura of power around him begins to flicker brighter and brighter as he strains against Magnus’ magic. “You can’t do this to me—”

“Oh, but I can. You made sure of that,” Magnus says, taking a few steps toward Asmodeus, his magic inching around Asmodeus’ neck. 

Power rolls off of Magnus in waves, reminding Alec that although Magnus may not be a king of Edom, he’s certainly related to one. Alec might be scared if he wasn’t so in awe. Besides, Asmodeus deserves anything Magnus wants to throw at him. 

“You brought me here, where my magic is strongest. You kept Alec alive. You kept us desperate. You even let us use your books because you were so sure we wouldn’t find anything. You were arrogant and cruel, and you’re the reason this is happening.”

“You’re my son, Magnus! Everything I did was to make you stronger. We could be great together, we could rule—”

“No thanks. Have fun in limbo.” With that, Magnus uses his magic to toss Asmodeus into the portal and pull it closed behind him. The room feels oddly quiet after, empty without Asmodeus’ magic suffocating them. 

Magnus turns to Alec, anger turning to worry. It’s sweet, how it pours through their bond, evidence that Magnus cares for him, at least in some abstract way. “Alexander. Are you…you? You feel like you.”

Alec tries to say he is, that whatever he’s become, he’s still himself inside. Except, he can’t manage any words. Sounds come out of his mouth in deep-pitched clicks and low growls. He gives up on trying to speak, pushing his emotions through the bond at Magnus instead, hoping it will be enough to let Magnus know he hasn’t lost himself like he was so afraid of. All because of the bond. All because of Magnus.

He feels as much as sees the way his emotions hit Magnus. His face scrunches, a sensation of overwhelm flooding the bond the same as it had when the bond was first formed. Alec tugs his emotions back under control. He tries again, more carefully this time, focussing on sharing his calm relief.

“Okay,” Magnus breathes, rubbing his temple. “Okay, Asmodeus is gone, and you’re a dragon, but still you. This is…progress, I suppose. I certainly expected things to turn out worse.”

Alec makes another series of clicking noises. A dragon? 

He rolls his shoulders, trying to get a feel for his new body. His back aches, and when he moves, he gets a flash of a gold wing in his peripheral vision. He manages to get to his feet, balancing awkwardly on all fours.

As Alec tries to figure out how best to communicate with Magnus, another portal swirls into existence at the edge of the room. For a moment, Alec thinks Magnus conjured it. It would make sense: he’s free now, he can leave, why would he bother waiting around with Alec? But this portal glows a dingy yellow, not Magnus’ signature blue.

A blond shadowhunter steps through into Edom, surrounded by an aura of white and gold.

Alec’s hip burns, and he has to fight the instinctive urge to lunge at his parabatai. He has to remind himself what he looks like. There’s a seraph blade in Jace’s hand; one mistake could get Alec killed. Assuming angelic weapons can hurt him in his new form. Maybe it would bounce off as harmlessly as Asmodeus’ magic.

Jace is still taking in his surroundings when Catarina steps through the portal after him. The moment her eyes land on Magnus, she’s bounding toward him and wrapping him in a hug. 

“Alec?” Jace asks, dragging Alec’s eyes back to him. There’s an uncomfortable feeling in his gut, some kind of jealousy he has no business feeling. He barely even knows Magnus.

Alec does his best to nod, hoping Jace understands, pushing emotions through the parabatai bond. Jace’s face lights up, and he sheathes his seraph blade. 

“Cat,” Magnus breathes, relief audible in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m here for you.”

Izzy steps out of the portal beside Lorenzo, whip in hand. She glances between Magnus and Alec. He doesn’t know how she recognizes him, but it’s clear she does because she smiles softly and says, “We’re here to rescue both of you and burn this place down.”

 

Chapter 16: Clary

Summary:

Clary destroys Edom.

Clary and Simon are last through the portal. She steps through with her hand already on the hilt of her seraph blade, prepared for anything.

They’re in some kind of decrepit castle, but there are far less demons swarming around than Clary had expected. Catarina is standing beside a man who can only be Magnus Bane. He doesn’t look like his photos, his hair is longer and his clothes less flashy, but his warlock mark is recognizable. 

More concerning than the warlocks is the giant gold dragon hunched in a corner of the room, watching them all with blood red irises. It’s undoubtedly gorgeous, the most aesthetic demon Clary has met. It’s also one of the biggest. 

“Jace,” Clary hisses, raising her Seraph blade. Jace holds out a hand to stop her from attacking. He’s…protecting the dragon. 

“It’s Alec, don’t—it’s Alec.”

Clary lowers her sword, but not without a healthy dose of trepidation. She watches Jace approach the dragon, getting close enough to rest a hand on its head. The dragon—Alec—pushes his head into Jace’s palm. Clary can’t tell if he’s leaning into the touch or trying to shake Jace away. Knowing Alec, there’s a good chance it’s both.

“His transformation just completed,” Magnus explains, resting a hand over his hip. “We were able to keep Alec himself mentally, but we couldn’t find a way to halt the physical effects when my magic was bound.”

Catarina inhales through her teeth, resting a hand on her friend’s arm. Clary can’t imagine what it’s been like for her. Jace and Izzy have been going crazy spending a few weeks with Alec stuck in Edom, but Catarina’s friend has been stuck here for nearly two decades. Even to a warlock, that has to feel like a long time.

Clary glances around the room, taking in the bed and starry ceiling. There are worse places to be stuck in Edom, but the idea of being anywhere in the realm long-term felt suffocating.

Alec glances at Magnus who nods. “I may be able to change you back now, but there’s no guarantee Edom wouldn’t just take you back all over again.”

“What if we destroy Edom?” Jace asks, shifting his weight, restless as weeks of built up tension finally coalesce.  

“Destroy it?”

Izzy’s fingers trace her snake bracelet. “Catarina found something about heavenly fire. She thinks if we release enough of it all at once, we can destroy Edom.”

Magnus frowns. “The only way to release that much heavenly fire would be—”

“For someone to take it within themself and channel it into Edom,” Lorenzo finishes with a grim nod. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Like Alec before he killed Lilith and Clary drew the heavenly fire out of him.”

“I’ll do it,” Jace says, rolling his shoulders. “Who wants to cut me? Anyone but Simon.”

Simon, who’d been silently taking everything in, looks offended. “Why not me?”

“You’d enjoy it too much.”

“Jace,” Clary interrupts their bickering, stepping toward him. “We don’t know for sure that this will work. Heavenly fire can drive you mad.”

Alec makes a noise like a growl, which Clary hopes means he agrees. It’s hard to tell. 

“Alexander, this may be the only way to release you from Edom,” Magnus says, voice soft. 

“What if it hurts him?” Izzy asks. “This is all theoretical, we don’t know what destroying Edom will do to its rulers and while I’m all for taking down Asmodeus, I don’t want to risk Alec.”

Jace’s face lips turn down in annoyance. “Do you have a better idea, Izzy? Alec isn’t Edom. We agreed that this was our best bet for getting him out.”

“We should at least make sure he can leave before we blow this place up.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Magnus agrees. A snap of his fingers and another portal whirls into place where Lorenzo’s had burned out. “Alec, if you will.”

Alec gets to his feet like a baby deer. For a moment, it looks like he’s going to fall over, but his long tail provides him the stability he needs to stay standing. His gold scales gleam even in the dim, red light. Clary’s hands itch with the urge to paint him. If she survives Edom, she knows what her next art project will be. 

“You good, bro?” Jace asks, looking suddenly amused. It’s the happiest he’s looked in weeks—since they left Alec.

Alec huffs, expelling a plume of smoke from his nostrils. He makes his way to the portal on shaky legs. Once there, he pauses for a moment, like he’s bracing himself, before stepping into it. Clary can practically feel the room let out a unanimous exhale as he vanishes. 

When the portal disappears behind him, everyone’s attention snaps to Magnus Bane. 

“I portalled him to my loft. He’ll be safer there, demons don’t do well around mass amounts of heavenly fire,” Magnus explains, looking unbothered by the attention. 

“I maintain there’s a chance we’ll all be burned alive by this,” Lorenzo says, almost under his breath.

“That’s a chance we have to take,” Simon says cheerfully. 

Jace nods. “What happened to Alec’s knife? The one with the heavenly fire? It’ll probably work better than a Seraph blade.”

“Aren’t they all forged the same way?” Magnus asks, summoning a familiar blade to his hands. Clary glances at Jace and can tell he’s also wondering how Magnus came to be in possession of it.

“Most are, but Clary transferred the heavenly fire to that one so it might be different. I say we use it.”

Magnus glances at Clary, raising an eyebrow. “Could you use a rune to transfer it back out?”

“I think so, but I’d have to transfer it somewhere specific.”

“Onto Edom?” Catarina asks. 

Clary shrugs. “If you think that would work.”

“Sounds better than accidentally setting ourselves on fire trying to control it,” Izzy says. 

Magnus ushers them toward the door. “Let’s do this quickly.”

Outside, there are dozens of demons milling around the castle. Clary readies herself for an attack, but the demons just stand and watch them. It raises the hairs on the back of Clary’s neck.

A hellhound trods over to Magnus, but when Catarina summons her magic to attack, Magnus waves her off. 

“Hello, darling,” Magnus scratches the hellhound’s head. “You miss Alec, don’t you?”

The hellhound lets out a pitiful whine that would be better suited to a puppy than the towering mass of darkness. Clary wonders if she has a shade of black dark enough to match its fur.

Magnus sighs. “Alright then.”

“You can’t seriously be planning to bring that thing to Earth?” Lorenzo asks with a mix of disgust and horror. 

“Not as is,” Magnus says, letting his magic encircle the hellhound. It shrinks in size until it’s no larger than a cat. “There, now she’ll fit right in.”

Lorenzo’s face goes red, but before anyone can object, Magnus uses a portal to sweep the hellhound out of sight. 

Izzy grimaces. “Can we all pretend we didn’t see that? I don’t want to try to explain it to the Clave.”

“If your new pet gives us any trouble, I’ll have you locked up somewhere,” Lorenzo grumbles. 

Deciding to ignore the hellhound issue for now, Clary pulls out her stele and kneels in Edom’s red sand. The horde of demons drift closer. Clary reaches her other hand toward her kindjal. “Uh, guys?”

“They seem upset about our plan to destroy their home,” Magnus murmurs, pulling a shimmering blade from mid-air. 

“Alright, Clary, you draw the rune,” Jace calls, raising his Seraph blade. “The rest of us will hold them off.” 

The Shadowhunters and Downworlders form a loose circle around Clary, facing the encroaching demons. She presses her stele to the sand. The tip burns crimson, and the demons leap into action. Anticipation pumps through her veins. She wants to get to her feet and help fight rather than cowering in the middle of everything, but she has a job to do. With the fights raging around her, she quickly draws the rune.

It’s been burned in her memory since she used it on Alec. She’d gone over the situation a hundred times, wondering what she could’ve done differently. Could she have saved Alec if she’d used some other way of extracting the heavenly fire, if she’d gotten it out of him before Lilith attacked? 

The rune glows before fading to black, an inscription carved onto the face of the planet. Clary stands, sand clinging to her palms and the knees of her pants. “I need the knife.”

Magnus’ sword emits a beam of light that turns the closest demon into a cloud of vapor before he turns and tosses her the heavenly fire blade. She catches the hilt and draws a second rune onto the blade, directly below the first.

The knife begins to heat, and she drops it before it can burn her. It falls blade-down, sinking into the sand. 

The loudest crack Clary has ever heard splits the air as the ground begins to shake. Demons shriek and cry out, falling back, turning on one another, frantic. Clary hadn’t known demons could panic until now.

“I believe that’s our cue to leave,” Magnus says, his sword vanishing as he creates another portal. Lorenzo is the first one through, followed closely by Izzy. Simon reaches for Clary’s hand. She takes it, using her other hand to grab Jace’s, and the three of them enter the portal together. 

Chapter 17: Magnus

Summary:

Magnus transforms Alec.

A weight lifts from Magnus’ shoulders the moment he’s back on Earth, breathing in the sweet, light air. His loft is exactly how he’d left it, magically preserved in a state of cleanliness despite his long absence. It feels wrong, though, like a phase he’s outgrown. He’ll have to redecorate. There’s so much to be done now that he’s finally home.

But before any of that, he has to deal with the gold dragon sitting in his living room atop what used to be a nice coffee table but now looks like a pile of wood chunks.

Alec is growling, but Magnus is pretty sure it’s more annoyance at being left out than real anger. The bond is going to take some getting used to, but it’s nice to have some insight into Alec’s feelings when he looks like this.

“Can you fix him?” Jace asks, shifting closer to Alec. Magnus can sense him too. The resonance of his soul drifts through Magnus’ bond with Alec. His parabatai, then. 

“I’ll do my best,” Magnus promises. He hopes it’ll be enough. If he fails, he’ll make Alec a nice dragon-friendly living space while he searches the Spiral Labyrinth for a cure. Alec deserves so much better than to be stuck in a body not his own. 

Magnus crosses the room to where Alec is sitting with the hellhound puppy at his feet. When he calls his magic to his fingertips, it comes easily, as happy to be reunited as he is.

He presses one hand to Alec’s scaly shoulder, surprised by how warm he is. It makes sense because Edom made him what he is, but the elegant shine of his scales suggests a coolness so far from the reality. 

“This might sting,” Magnus warns. Alec rolls his eyes. The movement is followed by a wave of self-satisfaction that must be coming through the bond. Magnus pours his magic into Alec, through his scales and through the bond. 

He finds pretty much exactly what he’d expected. Alec’s soul is wrapped in layers of Edomite magic as dark and thick as smoke. It takes several moments of searching for Magnus to find anything else, but he does. There are rays of Alec’s white and gold soul cutting through the dark fog. Angelic magic filtered through Alec’s parabatai bond streams in like sunlight peeking through a canopy of leaves. And then there’s Magnus’ own magic, weaving interlocking patterns of blue. 

Magnus focuses on his magic, using it to cut through the Edomite magic.

It’s a slow, tedious process, but Magnus can be patient. He works with careful precision to ensure Alec’s soul and soul bonds aren’t damaged in the process. The more Edomite magic Magnus vanishes, the easier it becomes to get rid of. The rays of angelic magic begin to shine brighter, warmer, helping to burn away the demonic magic. 

Even before Asmodeus and Edom, Magnus would’ve struggled to use this much magic in one go. Now, after years of barely any magic use at all, it’s nearly impossible to expend so much energy so quickly. He can feel the edges of exhaustion creeping in, weighing him down.

He starts to lose confidence that he’ll be able to clear all of the Edomite magic when a sudden jolt of strength goes through him. He redoubles his efforts, realizing a little too late that the strength hadn’t come from himself. Alec is sending it to him through their bond.

Magnus urges his magic on, wielding it like dual swords against the smoke, until, finally, the Edomite magic is burned away. 

Alec transforms. The scales withdraw, giving way to pale, runed skin and worn black clothing. Magnus can’t stop a small, relieved sigh from escaping his lips. Against all odds, they’d both made it out of Edom alive. He’s free of Asmodeus. Alec is free of Edom’s inheritance laws, free from the magic that had turned his body against him. 

They’re okay. 

Magnus nearly collapses to the sofa, hoping he makes the motion look more graceful than it feels. His visitors don’t need to know how thoroughly exhausted he is.

“Thank you,” Alec says, voice rough. 

“Thank the angels,” Jace exhales—which, rude, their precious angels were not the ones to thank here—before wrapping his parabatai in a hug. Alec hugs him back, muscles bulging, burying his face into Jace’s shoulder. 

Magnus looks away. He refuses to feel jealous. It would be ridiculous, and Alec would feel it too, and that would be embarrassing. What’s there to be jealous of anyway? 

He focuses on Cat as she comes to sit beside him, combing her fingers through his hair. Even after so long apart, Magnus gets the feeling she knows him even better than he knows himself. “It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back.”

Izzy joins Alec and Jace, wiggling her way into their hug. It’d be a sweet, well-deserved moment, but Lorenzo Rey chooses that moment to speak up and ruin it. “Bane, now that you’re back in New York, I trust you’ll acquaint yourself with the updated Accords and warlock laws and act accordingly. I’d hate to have to step in as High Warlock.”

Magnus smiles bitterly. Lorenzo Rey, High Warlock of Brooklyn? He’s not looking forward to that, but it’s not enough to put a damper on his good mood. He’s too happy to be back in his apartment with weak sunlight streaming in through the curtains and air he can actually breathe. It’s cloudy outside, looking like it might rain at any moment, but the sun is fighting through. Magnus can’t wait to feel it on his skin. The sun and the rain and the snow—any weather at all.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be too busy spending the next few years catching up on the fashion and technological advancements I’ve missed to cause any trouble,” Magnus says. 

Lorenzo looks far from amused, but he summons a portal instead of arguing. “And Shadowhunters, I’ll bill the Institute for services rendered. Be on the lookout for that.”

Alec untangles himself from his group hug to nod to Lorenzo. “Of course, thank you for your help.”

That makes Lorenzo look a little more satisfied before he vanishes through his portal. Izzy nudges Alec, “We should get back to the Institute. It feels like we just left, but who knows if it's even the same day? We need to let everyone know you’re back.”

Magnus can feel Alec’s exhaustion, nearly as all-consuming as his own, but Alec doesn’t let it show. Catarina, being the Good Samaritan she is, says, “I’ll summon you a portal.”

While she does, Alec looks at Magnus. His eyes are back to their gorgeous hazel color. Magnus feels his heart give an embarrassing thump he hopes Alec doesn’t pick up on. He hopes Alec isn’t getting most of his feelings right now. He doesn’t need to know how quickly Magnus has become completely infatuated with him. He has a reputation to maintain and that doesn’t include pining after Shadowhunters he barely knows.

“Thank you,” Alec says, inching closer, voice soft. “For everything.”

Magnus gets to his feet despite his muscles protesting every move. “You have nothing to thank me for. You broke Asmodeus’ curse, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t that hard, once we were bonded I could see the threads so I just snapped them.”

Magnus raises his eyebrows. “That sounds like quite complicated magic. You must be a natural.”

A cute flush works its way up Alec’s cheeks. Unfortunately, before Magnus can see how far flirting will get him, Jace interrupts, “Alec, you ready?”

“One second,” Alec says without looking at his parabatai. His gaze is still on Magnus, intense and heady. “I should go.”

Magnus nods, swallowing his disappointment. “I’m sure you have a lot waiting for you.”

“And you—you were gone a long time. Let me know if you need anything?”

“Oh? Are you offering to help me adjust to this time period?”

Alec glances away, but he looks flustered so Magnus counts it as a win. “Yeah, I can, um—with whatever.”

“Alec?” Jace calls, glancing between Alec and Magnus with clear suspicion. Magnus smiles innocently, wishing the blond would leave them alone already. But he’s probably used up all his one-on-one time with Alec in Edom. What a waste. 

“Yeah, I’m coming.” Alec takes a step toward the portal, only to be stopped by the small hellhound yipping and tugging at his pant leg. “Oh, right. Sorry, girl, but I don’t think you’d like the Institute. Can she—”

“Of course,” Magnus interrupts. He’d brought the hellhound to this realm, she’s his responsibility. Maybe Alec will want to visit her sometime.

Alec scratches the puppy’s head. “Be good for Magnus, okay?”

She releases his pant leg, falling into a sit and watching with mournful eyes as Alec follows his friends through the portal. Magnus can relate. He slumps back onto his couch as soon as the Shadowhunters and their pet vampire are gone. 

Cat gives him a sympathetic smile, perching on the arm of the couch where he can lean against her. “Don’t tell me you’re in love with that boy.”

“Who’s in love?” Magnus asks, summoning a drink to sip. He could use a long bath and a good night’s sleep, but he’s too happy to be back with his friend to send her away. He’ll have to check up on Ragnor and Raphael soon too. Reconnect with all of the friends he’d inadvertently ghosted when his father kidnapped him.

Cat snorts and brushes strands of hair away from his face. “You were flirting.”

“He’s very pretty.”

“And accomplished. He’s the Head of the New York Institute.”

Magnus stiffens. “Really? He never mentioned.”

“I imagine you didn’t have a lot of time for casual conversation in Edom.”

“No,” Magnus agrees, thinking of all the time Alec had spent unconscious. “Not really.”

“We have so much to catch up on.” There’s an undertone of sadness to Cat’s voice that resonates deep within Magnus, tugging at the ache in his chest. 

He sips his drink. “Indeed, we do. I’m sure I’ve missed a lot.”

“Starting tomorrow. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Magnus swallows, trying to ease the bitterness of being left alone again. He’s not in Edom anymore. He’s home. He can survive a night by himself. “I could use some rest. And I’m sure you have your own life to attend to.”

“Oh no,” Cat says, gently whacking his head. “I’m not going anywhere unless you send me away. You’re going to rest while I fill in Ragnor and Raphael on everything, and then the four of us are going to brunch.”

Magnus relaxes, warmth spreading through him like sunshine. “That sounds beyond lovely. I’ve missed brunch.” 

Chapter 18: Alec

Summary:

Alec returns to the Institute.

Returning to the Institute feels like coming home after a long vacation. It’s welcoming and familiar, but somehow changed. Alec feels like he’d spent ages in Edom and been through so much he can’t talk about within these walls. 

He relaxes a little once he and his siblings are safely in his bedroom, tracing the thickened skin of his new scar as Izzy says, “We had to fudge the reports about Edom, obviously. Clary, Jace, and I all wrote that you weren’t able to return with us because you were captured by Lilith.”

Alec forces a smile. Lying to the Clave isn’t something he generally encourages, but he understands the necessity. If they learned he’d turned into a demon, no matter how short lived it’d been, the Clave would use it to replace him as Head with someone more traditional. He’d lose all the progress he’s made with the Downworld. 

He goes to his closet, pulling out clean clothes. He has to start somewhere. 

“I bet they’ll be glad to hear we destroyed Edom,” Jace says, sitting on the edge of Alec’s bed.

“Don’t get Edom sand on my bed.”

Jace shrugs, but gets to his feet. Alec will definitely have to vacuum soon. “So, how’d you end up finding a warlock boyfriend in Edom?”

Alec’s face warms, and he dampens his bond with Magnus. Magnus doesn’t need to know about Alec’s embarrassing little crush. “Magnus isn’t my boyfriend.”

“But you formed a soul bond with him?”

Izzy’s eyes widen. “You what?”

Alec shuts himself in his bathroom so he can change, calling through the door, “We had to, so I wouldn’t become a full-fledged, rampaging demon.” 

He turns on the shower before they can respond. He’s missed his family more than he can articulate, but wishes they’d spend their reunion asking him about anything except Magnus. He doesn’t know what to think about Magnus. 

Magnus had kept watch over Alec while Alec was being poisoned by Edom. Magnus had agreed to tie their souls together to save him. He’d brought him home and turned him human again. He’d also sought Alec out for the sole purpose of giving him to Asmodeus. Magnus had lied to him and tried to have him killed. 

Alec doesn’t know if he should hold a grudge or if he’s indebted to Magnus—or both. Being soul bound to Magnus Bane is probably not going to be easy.

Under the spray of the shower, Alec’s fingers go to the new rune on his hip. It’s turned from white to blue and sparks when he touches it. He tears his fingers away, hoping Magnus hadn’t felt the pleasant buzzing. 

Alec hurries to finish his shower, drowning out his thoughts to the sound of running water. It’s a relief to step out with Edom thoroughly wiped from his skin. He gets dressed and returns to his room to find it empty. Loneliness crashes through him. He tries to squash it as he turns off the lights and crawls into bed. He’s home now, he’s safe. His siblings are somewhere nearby, not an entire dimension away. There will be plenty of time to reconnect with them.

His door cracks open, light spilling in from the hallway, and Izzy steps inside. Her damp hair is pulled into a braid, and she’s changed into pajamas. “Oh good, you’re done showering.” 

She and Jace, also with damp hair and pajamas, close the door behind them. Alec sits up, shifting toward the wall to make room for his siblings to climb into his bed. It’s not really big enough for all of them; they haven’t slept together since they were kids, but they make it work. In his time away, Alec had forgotten that warmth could feel so cozy.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Izzy says, resting her head against his shoulder. 

“Me too,” Alec breathes. He’d missed Earth, and the Institute, and being healthy, but mostly, he’d missed Jace and Izzy. 

“Unfortunately, Mom already knows.”

Alec stiffens, staring at the ceiling in the dark. His relationship with Maryse has been strained for a while. It had reached an all time low at his failed wedding to Lydia. He’d tried so hard to marry her, determined to go through with it, but when he’d made it to the altar, he’d choked up. He couldn’t . Not with the conversation he’d had with Izzy and Jace five minutes earlier still ringing in his ears, not with how sad Izzy had looked on his behalf. 

After that, he’d promised himself he’d find another way to restore their family name, and he had. He’d become the official Head Of The Institute after leading the mission that killed Valentine. He’d reduced demon-related deaths in New York by nearly 20% and started the first ever Downworld Cabinet to increase communication and cooperation in the Shadow World. He’s not sure Maryse cares about any of that.

“When is she coming?”

“Tomorrow,” Izzy says quietly, voice full of regret. 

Dealing with Maryse is better than being stuck in Edom, but it’s not how Alec had hoped to spend his first day back. He’d anticipated a lot of paperwork, not a conversation with his impossible-to-please mother.

Jace reaches across Izzy to nudge him. “If you don’t want to see her, we can cover for you, tell her you’re still recovering or something.”

“No, that’d only make things worse. I’ll talk to her.”

“We’ll be there too,” Izzy says right away. “Knowing her, she’s going to blame you for being trapped. We can tell her you’re the reason the rest of us were able to leave, that you stayed back to fight.”

Alec’s stomach twists. He doesn’t like the idea of lying like that, making himself out to be some sort of hero. He hadn’t stayed behind to save anyone, he’d only stayed because he physically couldn’t leave. “It’s fine, Iz.”

“Okay.” She doesn’t sound convinced, but she lets it go. Alec lies awake, listening to the sounds of his sibling’s breathing as they fall asleep. He relaxes into the comfort of his mattress. Maryse aside, it’s good to be home.

 

When he wakes up, Alec doesn’t remember his dreams with clarity, but he’s certain Magnus was there. The image of golden eyes and azure magic lingers in his memory. It leaves him with a heavy sense of longing he does his best to repress for both Magnus and Jace’s sakes as he goes about his day. It doesn’t take long before he’s forced to focus on other things. Mainly, Maryse waiting in his office. 

She’s behind the desk, sitting in his chair, tapping away at a tablet. She looks up when he enters. There are bags under her eyes that put Alec immediately on edge. 

“It’s about time you return to work.”

Alec falls into parade rest out of habit, pulling his hands behind his back and straightening his spine. “I heard you were visiting from Idris.”

“I had to. Are you aware of what rumors about the New York Institute have made it to Idris?”

“I was stuck in Edom,” Alec says, preferring to get directly to the point, “but I’m back now. I’ll make sure everything is running smoothly.”

Maryse purses her lips. “I heard you allowed yourself to be captured by a demon.”

Alec digs his thumb into the scar on his palm, knowing Maryse doesn’t want excuses. There’s nothing he can say to appease her. He just needs to tell her what she wants to hear so he can get back to his job. “We destroyed Edom, I’m back now. I apologize for anything I missed while I was gone. I intend to catch up on everything today.”

Maryse stands up, making Alec’s chair scrape against the floor. He barely holds back a wince at the noise. He realizes with a jolt of horror that his palm has become cool and smooth to the touch. The scales are coming back. At least the button-down he’s wearing should conceal the other scars on his forearm and chest. They began to itch, but he can’t tell if it’s scales or if he’s imagining it. He needs to leave, but Maryse is still talking—and he’s missed half of it.

“—your duty. Alec?”

Alec swallows. He can’t let Maryse see the scales. “I’ll do better.”

Maryse narrows her eyes, and Alec fights the impulse to reach for his buttons, to do them up all the way to his chin to hide as much skin as he can. There’s no telling how Maryse would react to her son sprouting scales, but it won’t be good. She’ll tell the Clave, and they’ll take the Institute away, and everything Alec has worked for will crumble. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t end up in a cell. 

“Tell me what happened in Edom. That was an unsanctioned mission, both times. You’re supposed to be keeping this Institute in line, not running your own off-the-books missions, Alec. The Clave is rightfully concerned about your leadership abilities.”

“I’ll file a report now that I’m back, but I have a meeting in a few minutes so I—”

“What meeting could possibly be more important than this?”

Think fast. “Magnus Bane recently returned from Edom.” That definitely wasn’t what he meant to say, and he regrets it as soon as the words leave his mouth. He supposes the news was going to get out eventually. Magnus doesn’t seem like the type to stay hidden.

Surprise flickers across Maryse’s face before it shutters with distaste. “Magnus Bane? He was in Edom this whole time? What was he doing there? We should have him arrested and questioned—”

“I’d prefer not to escalate tension with the Downworld if it can be avoided,” Alec says, stepping toward the door, hands still behind his back. “I’ll talk to him to determine if he’s a risk and include everything in my mission report.”

For once, Alec doesn’t wait to be dismissed. He flees his own office before Maryce can notice the gold scales encasing his hand. 

Chapter 19: Magnus

Summary:

Magnus and Catarina examine Alec's soul.

Burning panic rouses Magnus from sleep. For one long, disoriented moment, he lies in bed with his hand pressed to his chest, trying to remember where he is. 

He knows right away that he’s not in Edom anymore because the air doesn’t hurt to breathe, even if he still catches a faint whiff of sulfur when he inhales. He’s back in New York with a hellhound puppy he has yet to name curled up by his feet—the source of the smell. He can hear the traffic far below and Catarina doing something in his living room. He’s safe, safer than he’s been in ages. So why does it feel like his heart is about to beat out of his chest?

The hellhound toddles over to him, trying to keep her balance on the soft mattress. Her bright red eyes are intense despite her small frame. She nuzzles Magnus’ hip, and Magnus realizes the panic isn’t his own. It’s drifting through the bond. Alec is panicking about...something. Magnus wishes the bond told him what. 

He stands, displacing the puppy. She handles it well, jumping from the bed and circling his feet as he uses magic to dress himself. He’d hoped to spend more time on his appearance with it being his first day back on Earth, but this is more important. He needs to find Alec and… do what? He stops halfway to his door. 

It made sense for him to come to Alec’s aid when they were trapped together in a hell dimension, but he can’t imagine Alec would appreciate Magnus showing up like some white knight now that they’re home. Shadowhunters have always made a big deal out of showing they can take care of themselves, they don’t need sentimental warlocks following them around. 

But what if Alec is in real danger? Magnus can’t let Alec die. His own feelings for Alec aside, he doesn’t know what that would mean for their bond. He prods at it, wondering if he can use it to track Alec. He’ll probably feel if Magnus tries, but that’s a risk he’ll have to take. 

Magnus’ doorbell rings and, somehow, he knows it’s Alec. He can feel it in a way he can’t make sense of. 

Catarina is reading on his sofa in the living room. She watches as Magnus rushes to the door and throws it in, not wanting to waste any time if Alec is hurt. 

Alec stands in the hallway, seemingly uninjured. Familiar golden scales have spread over his hands and are peeking up from the collar of his shirt. The hellhound darts past Magnus to sit at Alec’s feet, peering up at him with big, bright eyes. 

“Magnus,” Alec breathes, eyes wide with panic. “They’re coming back.”

“I see that. Why don’t you come inside?”

Alec nods, brushing past Magnus and into the loft, the demon puppy on his heels. It’s obvious she still adores him.

 Magnus closes the door as Alec and Cat exchange awkward greetings. Cat’s eyes scan the Shadowhunter’s scales with a poorly concealed interest. 

“Do you know why they’re back?” Alec asks, glancing between Magnus and Cat. Another hot flare of panic strikes like a match in Magnus’ gut. He does his best to breathe around it, reminding himself it’s not his panic. He tries to send a wave of reassurance through the bond. He can’t tell if it works. 

“We’ll find out, and do whatever we can to stop it,” Magnus promises, resting a hand on Alec’s shoulder. Alec stiffens, but before Magnus can pull his hand away, Alec relaxes and leans into it. 

Warmth, entirely his own, spreads through Magnus’ chest. Alec glances at him, a small and shy, but beautifully sincere, smile playing at his lips. It’s the kind of reaction that makes Magnus yearn. 

In Edom, he hadn’t allowed himself to entertain the possibility of building any kind of lasting relationship with Alec. His ailment and imminent demise had been a ticking time bomb hanging over both of them. Now that they’re back on Earth—maybe Alec is a little scaly, but Magnus is going to fix that—Magnus finds himself dreaming of more. Could a Shadowhunter and warlock relationship work? Magnus isn’t sure, but Alec makes him want to try. 

He squeezes Alec’s shoulder before letting go. He can’t get distracted by fantasies when he has a job to do. “Come, lie on the couch and we’ll take a look.”

Catarina moves to stand beside it, allowing Alec to lay on his back, scaled hands folded over his stomach. Magnus holds his hand a few feet above Alec’s body and reaches out with his magic. 

Just like the day before, strands of thick, smokey Edomite magic have curled around Alec’s soul. 

Magnus pushes his magic into it, once again burning it away with the help of Alec and Jace’s angelic magic. It’s a little easier this time, which Magnus hopes is a good sign. He lingers this time to ensure he’s cleared out every last trace of the Edomite magic. 

“There,” Magnus announces, dropping his hand when Alec’s soul is fully his own again. The scales have disappeared from Alec’s body, to the Shadowhunter’s visible relief. 

“Do you mind if I take a look?” Cat asks before Alec can sit up. Alec glances at Magnus, trepidation leaking through the bond. Magnus prides himself on getting better at recognizing the difference between Alec’s feelings and his own. 

“Healing magic is Catarina’s specialty,” Magnus explains. “She works as a nurse at a hospital nearby. She may be able to tell you why the scales came back.”

Alec hesitates a second longer before nodding. “Okay.”

Magnus watches Cat’s magic sink into Alec and tries not to feel jealous. There’s no reason for him to be jealous, and he doesn’t want Alec to know. He doesn’t want to scare Alec off before he can even ask him out. 

“Ah, here.” Cat draws her hands sharply up, creating a magical hologram above Alec’s body. It displays a 3D model of his soul, shining brightly now that the Edomite magic is gone. Cat twists the hologram a few degrees and pointing at a line so thin and faint it takes Magnus a long moment to see it. “This is a…fracture, of sorts. It was likely caused by the corrosive nature of pure Edomite magic, though I can’t say for sure. I’m guessing your bond slowed the magic enough that it didn’t shatter his soul, but still created several of these crevices.”

This time, Magnus can’t tell if the anxiety he feels is his own or Alec’s. Maybe both. 

“I’m guessing they operate like ley lines. The Edomite magic seems to have become so intermingled with Alec’s soul, he’s beginning to produce it himself. See, here?” She turns the hologram again, drawing their attention to another line with a light cloud of red mist around it. 

“Knowing magic, it’s likely influenced by emotions,” Magnus muses. “I’m guessing any kind of strong emotion will cause it to happen faster?”

“It’s highly possible, though I’d have to monitor him longer to be sure.”

“How do we fix it?” Alec asks, eyebrows creased tightly toward each other as he sits up. “Can we cut it out or something?”

Cat looks as horrified by the idea as Magnus feels. Magnus sighs. “Soul magic is dangerous, and not much is known about it. Even soul bonds, which are the most common form, can be risky if the people involved aren’t well suited.”

“Yeah, that’s why Shadowhunters have trials before we can form a parabatai bond,” Alec says, looking no less confused. The hellhound puppy jumps onto the couch and nudges Alec’s hand until he begins to pet her. 

“Exactly. Souls are extremely resilient when they’re protected by skin and bone and magic, but operating on one is…inadvisable. Any amount of meddling could cause the soul to sever, which would be traumatic if not fatal.”

“Is there another way to fix it, then? Or am I just going to keep turning into a demon?”

Cat waves a hand to vanish the hologram she’d created. “I haven’t seen anything like this before, but the way the magic is being created by your soul is similar to a warlock’s. It’s possible you can learn to harness it and prevent the transformation, or at least control when it happens.”

Alec’s narrowed eyes suggest the words bring him little comfort. “There’s really no way to get rid of it? I just…have Edom magic engraved in my soul now? I’m a Shadowhunter, we’re not supposed to have magic.”

Cat glances at Magnus. He gives her a tiny nod before focussing on Alec. He sits beside him, though not as close as he wants to, vaguely aware of Cat leaving to give them space. He’s sure she’ll text or fire message about their brunch plans soon. 

“I know this isn’t what you were hoping to hear, and I can try to find another solution, but right now, all you need to focus on is that this is manageable. It’s not going to kill you or turn you into a violent, mindless demon. And you’re not in this alone.”

Alec meets his gaze, expressive hazel eyes betraying his inner turmoil. Magnus wonders if the line through Alec’s eyebrow is a scar or genetic. He wants to press his thumb to it. 

“Magnus, I—I can’t.  If I start growing scales at the Institute…” He trails off, but the message is clear. Apparently fifteen years away hadn’t been enough for the Clave to confront their prejudice. Magnus isn’t surprised. 

“I understand,” Magnus says as gently as he can. “I wish I had another option to offer you. What I can do is teach you about magic so you’ll be able to control it better and offer you something that might slow the magic’s generation rate.”

Alec frowns before his expression shifts to something more resolute. He looks down at his hands, rubbing his thumb over his scarred palm. Magnus wants to kiss that too. “Okay. How, uh, how do I control it?”

Chapter 20: Alec

Summary:

Alec names the hellhound.

When Magnus steps out of the living room to retrieve something meant to help Alec keep his new magic under control, Alec tries to use the time to calm down. Magnus had explained how magic was strongly tied to emotion so it’s more important than ever that Alec not feel too much. 

The hellhound puppy on his lap demands pets, giving Alec something to do with his hands as he tries not to think about what Cat and Magnus told him. He’s not ready to grapple with the idea of being part demon for the rest of his life.

Magnus returns with something held in his hand. “Here.”

When Alec stands, his tiny demon companion lets out a yip of complaint as she’s forced from his lap. He pats her head before meeting Magnus in the middle of the room beside the repaired coffee table he’d destroyed only yesterday. A benefit of magic, Alec supposes. He wonders if he’ll be able to do anything useful like that or if he’s limited to turning into a giant gold dragon whenever he gets anxious. His head is still reeling from the knowledge that Edom’s magic had made a home in his soul.

Alec holds out his hand, palm up, and Magnus drops a necklace into it. It’s a simple silver chain with a smooth, black pendant at the end in the shape of an arrowhead. It’s simpler than Magnus’ jewelry—signet rings with his initials, an intricate bracelet, a multi-layered gold necklace, and an ear cuff—but it’s flashier than anything Alec would wear. Mostly by virtue of being jewelry at all. 

“It’s obsidian,” Magnus explains, reaching over to tap the pendant. 

Magnus hasn’t yet figured out how to control which emotions come through, so Alec has pretty unfiltered access to what Magnus is feeling at any given time. In moments like this, where the bond radiates nervous excitement, it’s surprisingly sweet. 

“It’s used to temper magic. It won’t prevent the scales, but it might help you manage them. Hopefully, it will be able to slow it down, at least.”

Alec runs his thumb over the smooth rock with a newfound appreciation. It’s not a magical cure, but it’s something. “Thanks.”

“You don’t seem like much of a jewelry guy, but it’s most effective worn. I could turn it into a bracelet or—”

“No, this is good,” Alec says before Magnus can waste more magic on him. He drops the chain over his head, tucking the pendant under his shirt. It lies smooth and cool against his chest, and he has to fight the urge to reach for it. 

Magnus’ smile is small, but soft and full of warmth. He’s gorgeous. If only his eyes weren’t glamoured. They’ve been brown since returning to Earth, and while it’s a pretty color, Alec misses the gold that reminded him of home in an unfamiliar and hostile land.

“Thank you, Magnus,” he says again. He needs to get back to the Institute and he’s sure Magnus has plans for his first day back, but he doesn’t want to leave just yet. “For getting me back here, and helping me.”

“I would still be stuck in Edom if it weren’t for you, Alexander.” Magnus pauses before speaking again, in a lighter tone. “We should exchange numbers, though, in case you need help or…want to talk.”

A smile tugs at Alec’s lip, a happy light sensation filling his core as he realizes Magnus is flirting with him. People don’t usually flirt with him, especially not guys like Magnus. And, okay, Alec has never met anyone like Magnus, but the flirting is still unexpected.

Magnus is a man and a warlock. Maryse won’t approve. The Clave won’t approve. But Alec just fought his way back from Edom, with magic and scales, and who knows what will happen to him if anyone finds out. He’s done playing by the Clave’s rules. 

“Yeah, okay.”

Magnus hands Alec his phone, and Alec can’t help smiling as he takes it. His siblings tease him about not keeping up with the latest tech, but Magnus’ phone is truly ancient.  

His smile fades as he remembers why that is. He adds his number to Magnus’ contacts and closes the Nokia flip phone.

“Wonderful,” Magnus says, voice smooth as honey as he tucks his phone away.

Alec ducks his head to hide his blush, trying not to grin. Maybe not everything had taken a turn for the worst since Edom—maybe he found one good thing there. The hellhound whines and rubs against Alec’s pant leg as if correcting him: two good things. 

Alec crouches to stroke the hellhound’s head. She’s so much smaller than when he’d met her in Edom. She looks harmless like this. “You’re keeping her?”

“She helped us in Edom, it’s only fair I help her here.” Magnus summons a drink to sip, shrugging like it’s not a big deal, but Alec’s heart thuds heavier in his chest. The hellhound had supported him—literally—at his worst. He’s glad she’ll have a good home here.

“Does she have a name?”

“I’ve been brainstorming ideas. President Woof. Queen Elizadog. Mayor Demonia.” 

A startled laugh bursts from Alec before he can even think of holding it back. Maybe Magnus isn’t good at everything. “Magnus, you can’t name her any of those.”

Magnus’ pout is unfairly adorable. Alec wants to kiss it and taste Magnus’ drink on his lips. He looks at the hellhound instead. He doesn’t have much, or any, experience with romance, and he doesn’t want to ruin this by rushing in. 

“I feel like you’re limiting my creative freedom, Alexander.”

Alec rolls his eyes as he gets to his feet. “Does her name have to be a pun?”

“It’s more fun that way!” Magnus insists, eyes bright with a joy Alec hadn’t seen in Edom. It’s good to know Magnus is enjoying being back. “What would you name her?”

The puppy is sitting patiently at Alec’s feet, tail wagging as she stares up at him. “Ariadne.” 

Magnus’ eyes widen before he smiles softly. “Ariadne as in the princess who helped Theseus navigate Daedalus’ labyrinth? I didn’t take you to be a fan of Greek mythology. I wasn’t aware Shadowhunters even knew of its existence.”

“I like to read,” Alec obfuscates. He leaves out that he’d learned Greek Mythology from New York Public Libraries because Institute libraries only housed Clave-approved texts. He’s still battling legislation to add books to his Institute's library that fall outside of the categories of history, war, and runes. “She helped us escape Edom, so it fits.”

“I suppose it does,” Magnus agrees. “Princess Ariadne. She’s definitely going to let that title go to her head, she already acts like she owns the place.”

Alec smiles before glancing at the window. Heavy storm clouds have rolled in, tinting the world in shades of gray. Monochromatic, but still preferable to Edom’s red. “I should go.”

“As should I. Busy first day back for both of us, I’m sure.”

Magnus walks him to the door where Alec finds himself hesitating.

Magnus seems so much more alive here—or maybe it’s just that he’s finally free of his father. He’d been beautiful in Edom, of course, but he shines brighter here. Alec is overcome with the sudden need to know that this won’t be the last time he sees Magnus. “Call me?”

Magnus beams, his smile more radiant than the sun. “Of course, darling. And, please, call or text anytime. I know we haven’t known each other long, but we’ve been through a lot together.”

“Okay.” Alec tugs open the door and steps into the hall. Magnus leans against the doorframe, watching him. 

“Do you need a portal to the Institute?” Magnus asks, blue magic weaving around his fingers. 

The bond between them buzzes. Alec can feel the sparks of Magnus’ magic drifting through it. He takes a slow breath in and out. He doesn’t want to agitate the Edom magic baked into his soul. “I don’t mind the walk.” 

Magnus nods. Alec, out of excuses to linger, leaves. He barely makes it to the sidewalk before his phone buzzes in his pocket. His hands shake, more from excitement than cold, as he pulls it out. 

Unknown Number: Let’s talk soon, pretty boy. 

 

It doesn’t take long for Jace and Izzy to find him when he returns to the Institute. They converge on him the moment he steps into the Ops Center. 

“Where did you go?” Izzy asks.

“What happened with Maryse?” Jace asks. 

Alec grimaces at the reminder. He’d done what he needed to, but Maryse isn’t going to be happy with him for walking out on her. Alec rolls his shoulders, answering their questions with one of his own, “Is she still here?”

“She already went back to Idris,” Izzy says. “She said she’ll be waiting on our reports and warned us against going on any more unsanctioned missions.”

Normally, Alec would see the merit of such a request. They have an order of operations for a reason. Everything would descend into chaos if they did whatever they wanted all the time. Right now, however, all Alec can think is that his mother had labeled Jace and Izzy saving his life as nothing more than an unsanctioned mission. 

It doesn’t surprise him that her reputation remains more important to her than her children, but it still makes his chest ache. He tries to tune it out by focussing on the quiet contentment stemming from Magnus’ side of the bond. He wonders what the warlock is doing. 

“Have you finished your reports?” Alec asks as they reach his office. Even though he knows Maryse is gone, he feels a prick of anxiety on the back of his neck as he turns the knob. It’s accompanied by a slight itch on his palm that he wouldn’t usually notice. His hypervigilance of the area means he clocks it right away. Scales. He thought he’d have a little more time.

He steps into his office, relieved to find it empty, and moves to sit behind his desk. Izzy and Jace follow him inside.

“It’s almost done,” Jace says, which means he hasn’t started yet.

Izzy rolls her eyes. “I was working on mine this morning. I’ll have it done today.” 

“Good. Jace, you too. Tell them we found Magnus being held against his will by the former King of Edom, that he helped us escape, and that I’m in communication with him. Tell them he’s adjusting well to being back and we have no reason to think he might be a danger to anyone.” 

If the Clave thinks he’s not carefully watching a warlock who’d been in Edom for a decade and a half, they’ll send representatives to do it and escalate tensions in the entire New York Shadow World. Alec would like to avoid that. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be fine,” Jace waves him off, stretching out on Alec’s couch. “Tell us where you snuck off to this morning.”

Alec uses his non-scaled hand to touch his new necklace through his shirt. It’s a comforting weight. 

He sets the hand with scales on his desk. There are only three right now, but they shine and shimmer, impossible to miss.

“They came back?” Izzy gasps, gravitating closer to the desk. 

Alec explains the situation before gently kicking them out of the office so he can focus on trying to remove the scales, promising to catch up with them later. He still needs a report on everything he’d missed.

When he’s finally alone, Alec sits back in his chair and closes his eyes, searching for the Edom magic within him. 

All he sees is the black of his eyelids. It’d been far easier to slip into the bond with Magnus to destroy Asmodeus’ spell. If being in the bond had made seeing the magic easier, maybe he can do it again.

He finds the place within himself where his soul is tied to Magnus’ and slips inside. 

Chapter 21: Magnus

Summary:

Magnus enjoys being back in New York.

With appetizers and entrees eaten, brunch has turned into coffee (Ragnor) and mimosas (Cat and Magnus) and some unholy mix of blood and hot chocolate (Raphael). The meal is coming to an end, though Magnus hopes the gathering is not, when he feels pressure build in his chest. 

The soulbond thrums beneath his skin. It’s a pleasant buzz, cool and soothing where Asmodeus’ curse had been itchy and frantic. He can feel the moment it changes frequencies, but it takes him a little longer to understand why. 

It’s…Alec. The angelic radiation of his soul feels closer. It feels like he’s standing right beside Magnus or—or something too intimate for Magnus to think about with his friends sitting around his table.

“Magnus?” Ragnor says, flicking his fingers to send a mist of green magic across the back of Magnus’ hand. “Are we already boring you?”

Magnus snaps back to the present moment. Whatever Alec is doing, he seems safe, so Magnus turns his focus to the friends he’s missed so desperately for so long. 

He rolls his eyes at Ragnor. “It’s undoubtedly your turn to regale me with stories of daring exploits, but it seems you’re still quite the recluse.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were calling me boring.”

“Oh, I'd never.” After Edom, boring would be a welcome change. But Ragnor, despite his hermit tendencies and scholarly pursuits, has never been boring. He always has new magical theories and new teas—and sometimes both—to share.

“Even the most boring of your stories are better than Magnus’ sexploits,” Raphael says with as much affection as he ever manages to show. His voice is flat, but there’s a warmth to his eyes if you know to look for it.

“Sexploits?” Magnus repeats, trying out the word. “I like that.”

“You would,” Catarina says with a teasing smile and a nudge. Touch still feels a foreign thing, the warmth and pressure of Cat’s arm against his jarring in its comfort.  

“It’s a shame I have no new ones for you. I’m afraid Edom forced me into celibacy,” Magnus muses, keeping his tone light. The lack of hook up options had been far from the worst thing about Edom. The lack of any human connection, with its casual touches and meaningful conversations, had weighed far heavier on him. He soaks up the company of his friends, soothing the sore ache within him. He thinks it will take some time before he’s comfortable being alone again.

Ragnor raises his eyebrows. “All it took to get you to go celibate was being trapped in a realm of Hell?”

“That’s hardly a surprise,” Raphael mutters, sipping the vampire-friendly hot cocoa Magnus had generously summoned him.

“Aren’t you going to tell them about the ‘very pretty nephilim’ that showed up to save you?” Catarina says, glancing at Magnus with mischief gleaming in her eyes. 

Magnus feigns offense at her imitation of him. His hand automatically goes to his hip where the mark of his new soul bond rests. “I told you that in confidence.”

“A Shadowhunter?” Raphael asks with clear disgust. “Can’t you go for someone less…murdery?”

“Says the vampire,” Ragnor mutters under his breath, earning a scowl from Raphael. 

Magnus can’t help but laugh, warmth filling his chest as he watches the exchange. All of the dreams and fantasies he’d entertained in Edom fade in comparison to the real thing. He’s missed them so much it makes his eyes water when he thinks about it. Laughing keeps him from crying.

Catarina reaches over to rub his back, seeing right through him as she always has. “In Magnus’ defense, Alec Lightwood is probably the best possible Shadowhunter to crush on.”

Raphael huffs. “I guess he could do worse.”

“I’m missing something,” Ragnor says slowly, glancing between the three of them. “Why is Magnus having a crush on a Lightwood a good thing?”

Magnus sighs and summons himself a coffee. Another delicacy he’d missed, and something to mitigate the dizzying effect of the mimosas. It seems forced sobriety had caused him to lose some of his tolerance for alcohol. “It’s not a crush. You all make it sound so…juvenile.”

“What would you prefer to call it?” Cat asks, looking too amused. 

“Ask me again after we’ve gone on a real date.” After his last interaction with Alec, he’s sure it’s only a matter of when. “Now, enough about my non-existent love life. I need to know everything I’ve missed.”

 

Cat is the first to leave, heading to a shift at the hospital. Raphael follows soon after, through a portal Ragnor makes for him, to return to the Du Mort. Ragnor lingers, though, scanning the books on Magnus’ shelf as if he hasn’t seen them a hundred times before. It crosses Magnus’ mind that he needs to buy some new books. Who knows what’s been released in the last fifteen years?

Magnus wanders toward the drink cart in his living room. The alcohol on it should be fine, but he wouldn’t be surprised if everything else is expired. “Drink?”

“You know I prefer tea.” 

Magnus attempts to summon tea from a little cafe down the street, but comes up empty. It must have closed while he was away. A shame; they’d had the best biscuit cookies.

He tries again and manages to locate two steaming mint teas. He holds one out for Ragnor who takes a sip before declaring, “Not as good as what I could’ve made at home, but it’s not awful. Where did you summon it from?”

Magnus sips his own tea. It’s good, no matter what Ragnor says. “Starbucks.”

“Not some quaint local shop you love?”

“I’m afraid I’m not quite sure which ones are still open.” Magnus tries to say it lightly, but he can tell he misses the mark by a mile. 

Ragnor’s expression shifts, levity giving way to something more serious. “You were gone a long time.”

“Not by choice, I assure you. I’ve got so much to catch up on, starting with local cafes, apparently.”

Ragnor ignores Magnus’ attempt to lighten the mood. “We looked for you.”

“I don’t blame you for not finding me.” 

He had, a few times, when the isolation darkened his thoughts, convincing him he was too hard to love. There had been times he fully believed he was still in Edom only because no one bothered to search for him. But he knows that’s not true. He knows better than to blame his friends for not doing the impossible. Even if they had found him, they likely wouldn’t have been able to free him from Asmodeus. And, in the end, Cat had found him and brought cavalry with her to destroy Edom for good. The pure warmth and happiness he’d felt at seeing Catarina was so bright it threatened to consume him even now. 

“We never stopped looking,” Ragnor says, sitting on Magnus’ sofa and cradling his mug between two green hands. “Catarina tried to tell us you were in Edom, but I thought that was just wishful thinking. I couldn’t imagine what you’d be doing down there for so long, or that Asmodeus might have captured you.”

“Ragnor—”

Ragnor's eyes were filled with sadness when he met Magnus’ gaze. “We should have found you sooner. We should have tried harder. Magnus, we— I failed you. And for that, I am truly sorry.”

Magnus swallows back his own sadness, forcing down the tears that threaten to spring to his eyes. The anger and shame and sorrow buried deep within him begin to ease. Maybe they hadn’t found him, but they had tried. And they are here now. 

He sits beside Ragnor on the couch, resting a hand on Ragnor’s arm. “You have nothing to apologize for, my dear cabbage. Asmodeus hid me well, and I had no way of letting anyone know where I was without risking setting him loose on Earth.”

Before Ragnor can interject, Magnus continues, tracing a line across his own wrist. “He bound my magic. Even if you had found me, I couldn’t have come home without breaking that curse or bringing him with me.”

“I hope you made him pay.”

“He’s currently floating in the void where he should, ideally, remain for the rest of time.”

Ragnor nods. “He deserves worse.”

“I don’t disagree, but he’s gone, and that’s enough for me. Truly, old friend, I hold nothing against you.” Magnus pauses to sip his tea before adding, “You don’t owe me anything, but if you truly feel you must make it up to me…”

“I’m going to hate whatever you’re about to suggest, aren’t I?”

Magnus grins. “Who could hate shopping?”

 

Despite his hatred of shopping, Ragnor allows Magnus to portal him across New York, and then London and Paris, to browse the latest fashions. He keeps Magnus company at the barber while he gets a haircut and at the nail salon where he gets his nails done. He even holds Magnus’ hand as he get his upper ear pierced.

By the time Magnus returns home, he’s sure Ragnor is thoroughly sick of him which means it’s been a great first day back. He feeds Ariadne and pulls out his new phone. He’s still getting used to the touch screen.

Magnus: Good evening, Alexander. How was your day? Any more scales?

Magnus doesn’t expect an instant response so he’s delighted when his phone buzzes only a moment later.

Alec: Hi, Magnus. A couple, but I got rid of them thanks to your advice. 

Alec: Can I call you?

Magnus smiles at his phone. Ariadne, having finished eating, pads over and jumps onto his lap as he hits the call button. Her weight is a comforting reminder he isn’t alone even though his friends have all gone home. Why couldn’t he have found a demon like her during his years alone in Edom? 

“Hello?” Alec’s voice comes through the phone, deep and warm. 

“Alexander. I believe I promised to call.”

“Hi, Magnus.” There’s a softness to Alec’s voice that melts Magnus to the core. He strokes Ariadne’s head and peers out his window at the lights of New York, imagining Alec out there somewhere. At the Institute or out on patrol? He has to be alone to be okay with talking to Magnus like this.

“How was your first day back? I’m guessing the Institute put you right to work?”

“Yeah,” Alec says with a little laugh. “I wasn’t gone long, but I missed a lot. I had to include you in our report about the Edom missions—I hope that’s okay?”

Magnus grimaces. He’d rather not give the Clave his whereabouts, but he likes Alec too much to be mad. “I suppose it was only a matter of time until they found out. Should I expect Shadowhunter stalkers watching my every move?” 

There’s no way the Clave has changed enough to not react poorly to a warlock as old and powerful as Magnus simply waltzing back to New York after so long in Edom. 

“I’m hoping we can avoid that. I told them I’m working with you, so hopefully they won’t feel the need to send anyone else. If they still trust me.”

“And will you?”

“What?”

“Will you be working with me?” Magnus asks, making his voice a little more sultry. “Keeping me in line?”

Alec is quiet long enough for Magnus to consider apologizing. Then, finally, he says, “They’ll expect me to keep an eye on you so, if you wanted, we could, um, meet up sometime. For dinner or drinks or something?”

Alone in his apartment, save for a sleeping hellhound, Magnus beams. He’d had his reservations about pursuing a gay Shadowhunter. It seemed likely to end in rejection, or, at least, a one-sided relationship in which Magnus was solely responsible for the courting. And yet, here is Alec, not just going along with it, but taking initiative . Here is Alec, a Shadowhunter, asking the infamous Magnus Bane on a date.

“I’d love nothing more.”

Chapter 22: Alec

Summary:

Alec goes on his first date.

Alec stands outside of the restaurant where he’s meeting Magnus for their date, breathing in the cold air and trying to calm himself down enough that he won’t suddenly develop scales in front of mundanes. 

He’s managed to keep his scales hidden from everyone except Jace and Izzy, but it hasn’t been easy. He’s been relying on several techniques: the exercises Magnus taught him, the obsidian, and suddenly walking away from stressful conversations in search of somewhere to hide. There are probably rumors going around that he developed IBS or social anxiety while in Edom. The thought is embarrassing, but better than the Clave learning the truth. 

Alec can feel Magnus nearby. Sparks of nervous excitement and happiness drifting through their bond have him reaching for the door. 

He’d felt Magnus during their phone call a week ago too. It had been Magnus’ giddiness that had given Alec the confidence to ask him on a date. He doesn’t think he could’ve done it without the bond, without knowing Magnus felt something for him. Magnus flirts like it’s second nature, and all of this is so new to Alec. It helps to know he’s not the only one feeling nervous.

Alec steps into the restaurant waiting area, sandwiched between exterior and interior doors and furnished with plush benches. Magnus is leaning against one, looking like he’s just stepped off a runway. 

He’s cut his hair, buzzcut the sides and styled the rest into a faux-hawk. It’s slashed through with purple highlights that match his eyeshadow. His jacket glints silver or purple depending on how the light hits it and has an intricate black lace pattern throughout. Several necklaces are layered around his neck and rings adorn his fingers. Silver earrings glint in both ears. 

. He looks up as Alec enters, and Alec wonders if Magnus had felt his presence through the bond. He manages a small, shy smile, and as soon as he’s close enough to be heard, words tumble from his mouth. 

“Magnus, wow, you look...”

Magnus raises an eyebrow. “Too much?” 

His voice and body language radiate confidence, but Alec can feel self doubt creeping through the bond. It makes his chest hurt. He hurries to fix his mistake. 

“No, no. You look really good. Just—different. Not what I was expecting, but it’s good.” Alec, overtly aware of how socially awkward he’s acting, clears his throat and tries again. “You look nice.”

Magnus’ smile lights up his face, warming his brown eyes. “Thank you, and you clean up quite nicely.” 

Magnus’ eyes roam over him, landing on the obsidian pendant he’s wearing over his shirt. The appreciation coming through the bond—though Alec can’t fathom why Magnus would be impressed by his boring style—makes Alec’s insides feel a little gooey. He ducks his head. 

“Thanks.” A muffled clatter of dishes nearby reminds Alec that the rest of the world still exists. He glances toward the host stand. “Should we go in?”

“Let’s!” Magnus reaches the interior doors first and holds them open for Alec who ducks inside with warm cheeks. 

The aroma of fresh food wafts up around them as a hostess with a short pink bob shows them to a table. She takes their drink orders and disappears. 

Alec studies the surroundings, the atmosphere is more laid back than he’d expected from a restaurant of Magnus’ suggestion. One of the walls is made of bricks and adorned with various hanging plants. Another small plant is growing on the middle of their table. “This place is nice.”

“It’s one of the few places that’s almost exactly how I remember it,” Magnus says fondly, tapping the potted plant centerpiece. “It’s comforting, and the food is to die for.”

Alec smiles, feeling Magnus’ contentment reflected in himself. “I’m excited to try it.”

 

It’s easy to relax in Magnus’ company. He’s familiar in ways that would be alarming for a first date if they hadn’t already spent so much time together. They hadn’t gotten many chances to just sit and talk in Edom, but the words flow easily now, without the weight of Edom hanging over them. Alec usually isn’t a fan of conversation for conversation’s sake, and he’s pleasantly surprised to find how much he enjoys talking to Magnus.

Magnus is full of funny stories, clever anecdotes, and pure kindness. Alec wants to know everything about him. Magnus has an air of easy confidence, never stuttering or at a loss for words. Alec can feel that confidence through the bond, but it’s paired with anxiety and insecurity he never would’ve picked up on from Magnus’ behavior. It’s strangely comforting. Magnus might be experienced, but he’s still human. Well, as human as either of them can be.

When they’ve finished their meals—the food as good as Magnus had made it out to be—Alec isn’t ready for the date to end. His stomach sinks at the idea of leaving.

Thankfully, Magnus seems to be on the same page. He stands, but instead of leaving, he asks, “Shall we go for a stroll to admire the Christmas lights?”

Alec jumps to his feet so quickly he bangs his knee on the table. He doesn’t care if Magnus sees how excited he is because he is excited, and he can feel that Magnus is too. “Yeah, let’s do that. There’s a good display a few streets over.”

“I’d love to see it.” 

Leaving the restaurant, Alec rushes to hold the first door for Magnus who smiles and winks as he passes. Alec hopes the cold weather hides his blush as they step out onto the sidewalk. 

Magnus glances at the sky. “Hopefully the weather holds out.”

Alec follows his gaze. The weather has been mostly dark and gloomy since Alec returned from Edom, and today is no exception. The sky is filled with dark clouds. It hasn’t snowed, yet, though, and Alec can only hope that continues a little longer. At least until the end of his first date. He won’t even complain about patrolling in the snow.

 Before Alec can figure out a response, the back of Magnus’ hand brushes his, and all logical thought flees his head. It only lasts a second, though, before Magnus’ hand is gone again. 

Alec clears his throat, trying to remember what they were talking about. “Yeah, hopefully.” It’s windy and cold, and Alec wants to reach for his stele to activate a rune, but he doesn’t want to risk pulling his hand away in case Magnus’ brushes it again. 

“At least there’s actual weather here,” Magnus murmurs. “I have a new appreciation for the seasons.”

Magnus’ hand brushes Alec’s again, sending little sparks of heat up his arm. “I think Edom ruined summer for me, and I was only there for two weeks.”

“Two weeks here is a long time in Edom.”

Alec frowns because it’s true, but Magnus had been there so much longer. He doesn’t know how to say that without bringing up more bad memories, though, so he lets it go.

Magnus’ hand brushes his again, and Alec reacts before he can talk himself out of it. He slides his hand into Magnus’. Magnus’ skin is cold against his, distracting from the almost overwhelming fact that he’s holding Magnus’ hand. “Are you too cold?”

“I haven’t fully adjusted to the temperature change yet,” Magnus says as he slows to a stop to admire the Christmas lights strung up along the street they’ve just turned on to. On the strip between the lanes of traffic is a giant tree decorated with gold lights and shiny ornaments. It’s barely past noon, but all the lights are on, making the tree appear to sparkle. Magnus is staring at it. Something Alec can’t quite identify drifts through their bond, somewhere between longing and nostalgia and pure joy. 

Sounding a little far away, Magnus continues, “But warlocks have a natural immunity to these things. You needn’t worry about me developing frostbite or the like.”

Alec doesn’t think a diminished risk of frostbite is a good reason to subject oneself to uncomfortable temperatures, but Magnus seems to care far more about the lights than the cold. Alec scans the shops along the sidewalk. Barbershop, Thai restaurant, ice cream parlor, bookstore .

“Let’s go in there,” Alec suggests, already tugging Magnus in the direction of the book shop. The windows are covered in cute art of snow-tipped evergreens framed by frosted edges.

Inside, the air is warm and sweet. Paper snowflakes hang from the ceilings and one of the front tables has been used to display a toy train circling a winter village. Alec doesn’t care much for Christmas decorations, but he’s enamored watching Magnus take everything in. Magnus’ awe is enough to have Alec reconsidering his stance on holiday decor. 

“Oh, they have coffee,” Magnus says, noticing a small cafe area in one corner. He heads in that direction, clasped hands meaning Alec has no choice but to follow or let go—and he certainly isn’t about to let go. 

They join the short line in front of the counter where the aroma of cookies and coffee hangs heavy in the air. Alec scans the menu, feeling a little out of his depth. The Institute only has black coffee, with optional cream and sugar. He’s tried a few seasonal drinks, at the behest of Izzy and Jace after particularly cold patrols, but he can’t remember what any of them were called. 

“What do you like?” Magnus asks, shoulder brushing Alec’s. 

“I’m, uh, not sure.”

To Alec’s surprise, his answer makes Magnus smile. “Me neither. The options have changed more than I thought possible in fifteen years. I tried a, um, eggnog latte earlier this week.”

Alec feels his nose wrinkle, “Eggnog latte?”

“It was surprisingly good,” Magnus says with a little laugh that warms Alec to the core. “I think I’ll try something else today, though.”

“Yeah,” Alec breathes. “I guess it’s good to try new things sometimes.”

Magnus beams at him, and the last vestiges of the cold clinging to Alec abruptly thaw. He’s never been a fan of novelty, always preferring the comfort of the known, but he thinks that’s starting to change. Dating is new and Magnus is new, but Alec wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Chapter 23: Magnus

Summary:

Magnus and Alec's first date continues.

Magnus sips a mint mocha as he alternates between gazing out the window and gazing at Alec. The Shadowhunter always makes a lovely sight, but surrounded by a cloudy day and Christmas lights, he appears almost ethereal. He’s glowing.

After so long in Edom, everything on Earth is novel again, awe-inspiring in a way it hadn’t been in a long time. The simplest pleasures—the company of his friends, good food, feeling a breeze on his skin—elicit warm joy deep in Magnus’ chest. At times, he’s almost overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of being home. 

Alec sips his coffee, some sweet-sounding cinnamon concoction, and smiles at Magnus over the rim of his cup. He’s adorable when he smiles. Magnus gets the sense he doesn’t do it often, he is a soldier and a politician, and he likes that Alec does it around him. It gives him hope that Alec takes comfort in his presence. 

“How long have you been Head of the New York Institute?” Magnus asks to restart their conversation. He wants to know everything about Alec. 

“You heard about that?”

“Cat mentioned it. You didn’t say anything in Edom.”

Alec shrugs. “I didn’t think it mattered there.”

“And here?”

The ensuing hesitation is thick with apprehension, making Magnus wish he’d chosen a different topic. Any romantic relationship between them would be the first of its kind. It’s too much pressure to place on a new relationship, but it’s not something they can ignore. Given the history between Shadowhunters and Downworlders and the Clave’s bigotry, there’s a chance just associating with Magnus could threaten Alec’s career.

“I don’t know,” Alec finally says, looking away. “ I could lose the position if it gets out what happened to me in Edom. The Clave will remove me if they find out what I can do…what I am. ”

“You’re you,” Magnus says, reaching for Alec’s hand across the table.

Alec takes Magnus’ hand, but grimaces. “Yeah, but what is that? I’m a Shadowhunter, but…not really anymore. I’m, like, a half-demon half-dragon thing . And I have a soul bond with a warlock.”

Magnus likes to think he would’ve known how to respond to that if he hadn’t spent so long letting his social skills go rusty, but he’s not sure he ever would’ve known. His first instinct is to crack a joke, but he decides against it. He doesn’t want to make the situation worse.

Before Magnus can figure out what to say to lighten the mood, Alec shakes his head and cracks a small, forced smile. “I don’t know if I’m more Shadowhunter or Downworlder now.”

Magnus squeezes Alec’s hand and carefully considers his next words. “I imagine that feels very confusing and isolating. I have a friend who’s part warlock, part Shadowhunter, perhaps you would like to speak to her?”

“Part… how ?”

“It’s a long story,” Magnus waves it off rather than diving into Tessa’s ancestry and the clockwork angel that had allowed her to be born. There are better conversation topics for a first date.

“Sounds like it. I wasn’t born like this, though. I have a life as a Shadowhunter. I don’t want everything to change.”

Magnus nods in understanding. If he woke up one day part Shadowhunter, he wouldn’t up and move into the Institute. Thanks to his new soul bond, he’s more Shadowhunter adjacent than most of the Downworld, but he’s not sure how far that extends. Can he wear runes? He certainly has no desire to.

 “I’ll do whatever I can to help. We can’t undo what Edom did, but your control over your magic will only grow. And since only a specific few people know, there’s no reason the Clave ever has to.” 

He regrets the words as soon as they’re out. Alec is a Shadowhunter in a position of authority, there’s a good chance he won’t like hearing a Downworlder suggest lying to the Clave.

But Alec doesn’t look upset. His free hand drifts to the obsidian arrow pendant, touching it once before returning to the table. Magnus hides his smile behind his coffee. He’s always enjoyed giving gifts; he loves seeing people appreciate his gifts. Alec needs the obsidian to help with his magic, but he doesn’t need to wear it where people can see. He doesn’t need to reach for it when he’s thinking. The fact that he does makes Magnus a little giddy. He tries to suppress the feeling so Alec doesn’t pick up on it. 

His gaze drifts back to the window. Soft, white flakes are falling.

 “It’s snowing,” he breathes, forgetting all about repressing his emotions. He grabs his coffee with the hand not holding Alec’s and gets to his feet. 

Alec frowns. “Are we leaving?”

“It’s snowing,” Magnus says again, more intently, eyes flitting between Alec and the snow. 

Alec looks no less confused, but he allows Magnus to lead him out of the bookstore. The cold hits the moment he steps outside. It’s freezing, and Magnus is dressed for fashion over function. He has no business spending any extra time outdoors, but he barely registers that. 

He tugs Alec out onto the sidewalk and turns his face to the sky, admiring the snow for a long moment. “Isn’t it beautiful?” 

He’d missed this. All of it. He’d missed enjoying being alive. 

When Alec doesn’t answer, Magnus turns his gaze to the Shadowhunter. Their hands are still linked, Alec’s palm warm in his. There are snowflakes dusting his jacket and hair. The slight flush to his cheeks could be from the cold, but if the way he’s staring is any indication, Magnus has an inkling it’s from something else entirely.

“I may have gotten a little overexcited,” Magnus murmurs, stepping toward Alec. He’s about to apologize for dragging Alec out into the cold—it’s clear the Shadowhunter doesn’t share his appreciation for the snow—but Alec speaks first.

“I, uh...” Alec trails off, his blush deepening, the tips of his ears turning red. He blinks and displaces a snowflake. “I really want to kiss you.”

Magnus can’t tell if the joy he’s feeling is solely his or if some of it is coming from the bond, but it doesn’t matter because Alec is clearly also enjoying himself. 

Magnus takes another step closer, no longer trying to fight his smile. There’s only a sliver of space between them now. He’s close enough to feel the heat of Alec’s body, and he contemplates sacrificing the rest of his coffee so he can free his hand to cup Alec’s face. If it was any less tasty, he probably would.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” Magnus says, aiming for light and teasing, but missing by a mile. His voice sounds frighteningly earnest, even to himself. He’s wanted to kiss Alec for a while. He’d tried to fight it, but he’d started falling for Alec back when he was doomed. 

He’s imagined kissing Alec more than once, how plush and sweet his lips might be, the intensity with which he might take to it. He’s so determined in everything he does.

Alec’s lovely lips tick up. “That’s it? You just wouldn’t mind?”

Magnus drifts even closer, admiring all of the colors in Alec’s eyes. Their surroundings fade to a blur of white snow and colorful lights. The perfect ambiance. “I might enjoy it. We’ll have to try before I can know for certain.”

Alec doesn’t roll his eyes, but Magnus can tell he wants to. Alec is smiling as he leans down and presses their lips together. Somehow, his lips are warm. They’re as soft as Magnus had thought they’d be and tasting slightly of cinnamon. The full-body thrill that goes through Magus is better than anything he could have imagined.

It’d be a perfect kiss if it didn’t end too soon. 

Alec pulls away, hovering in Magnus’ space to murmur, “You’re freezing.”

“That’s alright,” Magnus says a little dumbly. His attention is focussed on Alec’s lips: they’re such a tempting shade of pink. He shifts forward, rolling onto his toes so he can kiss Alec again. 

Despite whatever reservations he has about the temperature, Alec doesn’t hesitate to return it. 

“We shouldn’t stay outside,” Alec says when they part again. Magnus forces himself to focus. As much as he’d like to drown out his thoughts with the heavenly sensation of Alec’s lips against his, there are probably better places to do that. 

He looks over at the array of lights and snowmen and shimmering trees so he won’t give in to his desires. “Do you need to get back to the Institute, or do you have more time?”

“I have more time,” Alec answers so quickly it makes happiness bloom like a rose in Magnus’ chest.

“Wonderful. We can go back into the book shop or, if you want, we can go back to my loft?”

Alec hesitates, his tongue flicking out in thought, testing Magnus’ will power. He wonders if Alec can taste him on his lips. 

A smooth heat draws his attention down to their intertwined hands. Alec pulls his hand away, turning it to reveal his palm where two shiny new scales have emerged.

“Your loft,” Alec says as another scale shimmers into existence. 

Not wanting to waste any time with the mounting panic emanating through the bond—it has to be Alec’s because Magnus is a little unsettled, but not like this— he calls on his magic and creates a portal. 

They step through into Magnus’ loft where Alec sets his coffee down and studies the scales blossoming onto his palms. Ariadne runs in from Magnus’ bedroom, and he expects her to jump all over Alec. Instead, she sniffs the air and patiently sits beside them.

“Sorry,” Alec says without looking at Magnus. “I can usually make them go away now, I just…”

“Can I help?” Magnus asks carefully, fidgeting with his coffee because he’s not sure Alec would react well to touch right now. “Are you upset about something?”

Alec’s response is a glance that only lasts a few seconds, but that’s all Magnus needs to understand. “Ah. I suppose I should clarify that I didn’t invite you here for sex. I thought we could watch a movie or simply sit and talk. There’s no pressure, we don’t need to rush into anything.””

Alec rubs his thumb over the patch of scales, taking a breath deep enough Magnus can track it in the rise and fall of his chest. “Okay. Just…give me a minute.”

Sure enough, it only takes a moment for Alec to calm himself enough to get rid of the scales. When he does, he sighs and flexes his fingers. “That’s annoying.”

Ariadne, clearly recognizing the change, stands and runs to Alec to put her little paws on his leg. He bends to scratch her head in greeting. “Hey, girl.”

“It will get easier,” Magnus promises. 

“I’m getting better at it. I just can’t always stop them from popping up.”

Magnus nods. He finishes his coffee and drops the cup, letting his magic get rid of it before it hits the floor. He’d remembered that particular trick two days ago. With his freed hand, he hesitantly reaches for Alec. 

Alec straightens and slides his hand into Magnus’. 

“I wonder if you could do other magic,” Magnus muses, running his thumb along the back of Alec’s hand. 

“I think I’ll figure this out before I try anything more difficult,” Alec says with more levity than before. “And I do want, uh, more with you. Just…not yet?”

Magnus smiles at Alec’s statement and how flustered he looks. Adorable. He rises up to press another kiss to Alec’s mouth, chaste and soft. “Like I said, there’s no rush. Let’s take our time, together.”

Alec, the angel he is, lifts their hands to kiss Magnus’ knuckles. “Together.”

Chapter 24: Alec

Summary:

Alec learns about one of Magnus' scars.

Notes:

Warning for non-explicit smut in the second half of this chapter.

The first time Alec sees Magnus shirtless, he’s too tired to properly enjoy it. His steps drag as he follows Magnus into his ensuite bathroom. Ariadne keeps pace with him, occasionally sniffing at his pants.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay?” Alec asks as Magnus glances thoughtfully between his shower and bathtub. 

Magnus turns to smile at him. “I’d love for you to stay. This isn’t the first time you’ve spent the night, and I wouldn’t make you walk back to the Institute like this.” 

It goes without saying that Magnus is too tired to make a portal. Alec could ask Clary, but he would rather stay at Magnus’ loft. This thing between them is still new, but Magnus is feeling more and more like home: warm, safe, familiar. 

“Okay. I’ll stay.” Alec ducks his head to hide his smile. Magnus’ bed is very quickly becoming one of his favorite places to sleep—mostly because it means sleeping by Magnus.

“We could take turns showering,” Magnus says slowly before glancing at the large bathtub again. “Or we could bathe together?”

Alec’s heart thuds a little faster in his chest, and he has to take a deep breath to stop scales from sprouting along his palms. He’s gotten better at managing that, thanks to Magnus’ magic lessons. He thinks how tired he is might actually be helping, especially if his Edomite magic is as drained as he is. 

Still, the idea of bathing with Magnus makes him a little nervous.

“Forget it, just a suggestion. We won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” Magnus says, reaching out to gently squeeze Alec’s arm, misreading hesitation for rejection. He’s getting better at muting his side of the bond, but Alec can still feel a trace of disappointment through it.

He reaches out to catch Magnus’ hand with his before Magnus can pull away. “It’s a good suggestion.”

Magnus raises his eyebrows, carefully scrutinizing Alec’s face. He’s searching for any sign of discomfort. It’s unnecessary, Alec isn’t fragile, but the care makes him smile.

“I want to,” he says with more emphasis. “I’m just a little…nervous.”

“If it’s too much—”

Alec shakes his head. The more he thinks about it, the better a bath with Magnus sounds. His muscles ache, and he longs to sink down into warm water and cuddle with his boyfriend. “It’s not. Maybe, uh…”

It takes him a moment to gather the nerves to ask, but Magnus waits patiently, face open and gentle. He never rushes Alec to speak or makes him feel bad about anything he says. It gives him the courage to ask, “Could we wear swim trunks or something? I’m just not sure I’m ready for…more.”

Magnus’ smile is so warm it’s as if Alec has just paid him a compliment rather than asked for an accommodation to avoid nudity. “Of course.” 

He squeezes Alec’s palm before letting go. He starts the bathtub filling and then brushes past Alec into the bedroom. With Ariadne still at his heels, Alec follows Magnus to his closet. Magnus pulls open the top drawer of an old wooden dresser and begins rummaging through it. Ariadne sits at Alec’s feet, leaning her small body against his leg.

“Normally, I’d summon you something, but I’m a bit short on magic at the moment so we’ll have to make do with sharing my clothing. I do have a few options to choose from.” He holds up a pair of long blue swim trunks and then shorter black ones.

Alec can’t help but be relieved by how normal they look. 

“What, no speedos?” Alec teases as he takes the black ones.

Magnus grins and pulls another swimsuit from the drawer. If the scrap of bright red fabric can even be called a swimsuit with how little it would cover. The sight of it hang limply from Magnus’ fingers is enough to make Alec blush.

“I certainly won’t complain if you’d profer something less restrictive,” Magnus says with a wink.

Alec rolls his eyes, doing his best to pretend his face isn’t the same shade as a ripe tomato. “Thanks, but they’re not exactly my style.”

Magnus heaves a dramatic sigh. “ Pity. Would you rather change in here or the bathroom?”

“I’ll change in the bathroom,” Alec says, quickly making his escape to hide his burning face. It feels wrong to kick Magnus out of his own bedroom anyway. 

Ariadne barely makes it into the bathroom before Alec is closing it between them and Magnus. He lets out a long breath, trying to steady his nerves. He still wants to bathe with Magnus, but he’s too tired for all of the emotions it’s bringing up. He glances at the steadily-filling tub and starts tugging off ichor-stained clothes. He wants his cuddles. He wants a bath. 

It isn’t until Alec has changed into the swim trunks and there’s a soft knock at the bathroom door that Alec realizes he has no idea what swimsuit Magnus chose. For the split second it takes him to open the door, he imagines Magnus has put on the scarlet scrap, and it’s nearly enough to send him to his knees. 

The reality is less indecent. Magnus is wearing a pair of swim trunks much like Alec’s, except instead of black, they’re a light blue and patterned with sharks. Even so, Alec suddenly feels warm, flustered by the sheer amount of skin Magnus is showing. He looks away before he can stare. The tub is half full now, Ariadne curled up on the bathmat.

“How do you feel about bubbles?” Magnus asks, heading for the sink. “Or would you prefer a bath bomb?”

Alec can’t answer. He’d dared to glance at Magnus again, but Magnus is facing away from him now. His back is smooth and muscular, but Alec’s attention is caught on the large scar cut through the middle. The ragged edges make it look like the result of a magic blast. 

“Alec?” Magnus asks, glancing over his shoulder.

“You have a scar.”

Magnus grimaces, and Alec instantly regrets his words. He has his own fair share of scars, he should know better than to mention them on others. Except, Alec doesn’t shy away from talking about his scars. He certainly doesn’t feel such a strong mix of fear, embarrassment, and loathing when they’re brought up. The onslaught of negativity coursing through the bond has him regretting ever opening his mouth. He should’ve ignored it, pretended not to notice.

Magnus straightens and turns to face Alec. If he’s trying to hide his scar, he’s doing a bad job of it. The mirror behind him allows Alec a clear view if he looks over Magnus’ shoulder. 

“Ah, yes. Perhaps I should wear a swim shirt? Or I can glamour it, I know it’s not appealing—”

“No, it’s not that—I just, I thought warlocks don’t scar except from adamas or weapons forged with heavenly fire.”

“While it’s true we can usually heal our injuries, I received this one while in Edom. I didn’t have my full magic to call upon to heal myself so I had to do it the mundane way.”

“I’m sorry,” Alec says, glancing at the tub. “I don’t know what a bath bomb is, but we can use bubbles, if you want?”

The relief Alec feels through the bond is almost palpable. Magnus grabs a bottle of bubble bath from under the sink. Alec looks anywhere but at the scar now that he knows it makes Magnus uncomfortable. He crouches beside Ariadne, scratching between her ears. 

Magnus adds a bit of the bubble mixture to the bath water and bubbles blossom across the surface. Alec reaches out to comb his fingers through them. 

“You don’t need a swim shirt,” Alec says carefully. “I won’t look if you don’t want me to, but…you don’t have to be embarrassed about it or anything. I have my own scars.”

Sadness colors Magnus’ answering smile. “I suppose I’m just a little…self conscious about it.”

Alec nods. He understands being self conscious well enough. He shifts and gestures to the nearly full tub. “Should we…?” 

“Absolutely.”

Alec gets into the tub, moving carefully so he doesn’t splash any water out. By the time he’s settled into the warm water, Magnus is sitting across from him. Alec sinks a little lower, letting out a soft sigh and resting his leg against Magnus’. 

“This was a good idea.”

Magnus beams. “Most of my ideas are.”

 

Two weeks later, Alec is pressing Magnus against the wall, licking into his mouth, and reaching for the hem of his velvety shirt. It’s only when he tugs at Magnus’ top and the warlock freezes that Alec remembers the scar.

Magnus’ hands soften where before they’d been grasping at Alec, his mouth moving a little slower, more hesitant. The shock of self consciousness coupled with fear that strikes Alec’s stomach is the worst part. He knows those feelings aren’t his own.

Alec releases Magnus’ shirt to set his hand on Magnus’ waist, pulling away from the kiss to ask, “Can I give you a massage?”

Magnus blinks a few times, clearly surprised. His cheeks are faintly pink. “I thought you wanted to…take the next step, so to speak.”

Even the mention of it makes Alec flush. “I do, I mean, if you do too.” He’s pretty sure Magnus does based on the way Magnus had been all over him only seconds ago, but it can’t hurt to check. 

He traces his thumb across Magnus’ hipbone over his shirt. The mark of Magnus’ soul bond is there, a counterpart to his own, a constant thrum at the back of his mind. “I want you to feel as comfortable, as safe, with me as I feel with you.”

“Alec, I—”

Alec cuts him off by stealing a quick kiss. “And I want to prove that I don’t care about your scar. I’m sorry you were hurt, but you don’t need to be embarrassed about the scar. It’s just proof that you’ve survived.”

Magnus watches him with unreadable brown eyes, face going soft. “I do feel comfortable with you, darling. I trust you.”

Alec knows it’s true, not just because Magnus wouldn’t lie to him, but because he can feel the sincerity in Magnus’ chest. Just like he’d felt his fear only seconds ago. “So you don’t want a massage?”

“It’s not the worst idea,” Magnus murmurs, lifting onto his tiptoes to kiss Alec again, soft and quick. “But are you sure you don’t want me to massage you?”

The idea of Magnus’ hands all over him, rubbing tension out of his muscles, makes Alec feel warm and tingly. It sounds a little intense. He might embarrass himself too quickly for more, for the things he really wants to do, if they start with that.

“I want to massage you, if you’re okay with that.” He feels oddly shy about the offer, but the way Magnus reacts is worth it. Excitement, trust, and joy fill the bond, a positive feedback loop lifting them higher together.

 

It isn’t until Alec has Magnus under him, lying face-down and shirtless on the bed, that Alec realizes the act of giving Magnus a massage might be as erotic as receiving one. It’s too late to back out now, though, with lotion on his hands and Magnus’ vicious scar in sight. Some hesitancy has crept back into the bond that Alec is eager to vanquish. He wants to do this for Magnus. 

And, if he’s being entirely honest, he wants to do this for himself too. Magnus has a really nice back that Alec has to perch over his thighs to reach. It’s far from the worst position he’s ever found himself in. 

He lowers his palms to Magnus’ back, starting at his shoulders, far enough above the scar that he won’t accidentally touch it. 

“Is it sensitive?” Alec asks when his fingers drift downward, skirting the edge of the scar. His voice comes out soft and quiet in the relative darkness of the room. Magnus had opted to turn off the main light in favor of a nightstand lamp and some candles that smell like vanilla. It really sets the mood. 

“I forget it’s there most of the time,” Magnus says, matching Alec’s volume. 

“And the other times?”

“It’s sensitive to cold, which hasn’t been the most difficult thing since I’m not exactly a fan of ice baths. It aches sometimes, after certain nightmares when I remember how I got it.”

Alec’s thumb traces little patterns along the smooth skin surrounding the injury. Magnus’ skin is warm under his, soft and strong at the same time. “Did Asmodeus do this?”

“Lilith, actually.” 

Alec waits, but Magnus doesn’t speak again. He hasn’t told Alec how he got the scar yet, and Alec’s not sure he wants to know. He’d happily send his full power, his Shadowhunter abilities and weapons and his Edomite dragon form, after anyone who hurt Magnus. Except, he already killed Lilith before he ever met Magnus. Now, he hopes it was as painful of a death as it seemed.

He opens his mouth to speak, but Magnus beats him to it, “Asmodeus sent me after her. He said if I killed her, he’d release me. That was before I learned about Edom’s inheritance laws. I’m lucky I failed.”

Alec had harbored no delusions about Asmodeus being a good parent, but everything he learns about him paints a darker picture. “Your father didn’t heal you? Didn’t he share the injury?”

Magnus turns his head so Alec can see half his face, resting his cheek against his pillow. There’s a dry smile on his lips. “It turns out greater demons can be quite fond of pain, especially if they can use it to hurt someone else.”

“I’m sorry,” Alec breathes, using his thumbs to work through a knot at Magnus’ lower back, just above the waistline of his pants. He leans down and brushes a soft kiss to the top of Magnus’ scar. 

He hears the hitch in Magnus’ breath before the warlock is moving, rolling until he’s on his back, smiling up at Alec. “You are the last person who should apologize to me about that. You saved me, remember?” 

His hand finds Alec’s cheek, cupping it, and Alec leans into the warmth. “You saved me too.”

“Sounds like a good relationship,” Magnus says. 

Alec could argue that their relationship had the worst start of any he knows, but why would he? It’s far more pleasant to just lean down and press his lips to Magnus’. Their relationship is good now, anyhow, that’s more important.

Alec pulls back from kissing to ask, “Was the massage okay?” 

He’s never given a massage before, certainly not the kind he’d given Magnus, but he hopes Magnus liked it. The bond feels better now, so mission accomplished. 

Magnus grins and reaches for him, settling one hand on his arm, the other on his waist. Alec can feel the pressure through his shirt, but he longs to feel it on his skin. The hand on his arm slides down until it finds his, lifting it from the bed. Magnus brings Alec’s palm to his mouth and kisses his scar. “Alexander, are you asking me if I enjoyed having your hands all over me?”

Alec is close enough to see every spark of light in Magnus’ glamoured eyes, every bit of joy on his face. He’s gorgeous in his happiness. 

“I have calluses and scars,” Alec says, distracted by how close and shirtless Magnus is. 

“Careful, I’ll think you’re bragging.” Magnus turns his head and darts his tongue across the scar on Alec’s palm. Alec sucks in a breath, feeling suddenly faint. Magnus’ tongue is on his skin. It’s warm, soft, and wet. It’s gone far too soon.

“I’m not…” Alec trails off. He may have lost the ability to form rational coherent thought, but he’d made it further than he thought he would, considering the situation. He gives up on trying to finish his sentence in favor of kissing Magnus again. He wants to kiss Magnus forever. 

Magnus’ smirks against his lips, and suddenly Alec is on his back, blinking up at Magnus. He’s not entirely sure how their positions flipped so fast or if magic was involved, but he’s certainly not going to complain. Magnus is hovering over him now, the mattress soft under his back. 

“Hi,” Magnus murmurs against his lips. 

Alec can’t help but grin. “Hi.” 

He clings to Magnus’ arms, reveling in the feel of warm skin and strong muscles. Magnus so often hides them beneath clothing for reasons Alec can’t understand. Magnus should always be shirtless—at least when it’s just him and Alec. When he tries to say this, it comes out, “Shirts are dumb.” 

Magnus snorts, ducking his head and chuckling against Alec’s shoulder, drawing a few quiet laughs from Alec as well. “You’re ever so eloquent, my darling.”

“Shut up,” Alec mutters. He kisses Magnus’ hair because it’s the only thing he can reach like this. He drags his hands higher, feeling out Magnus’ shoulders. “You look good without a shirt.”

Magnus laughs again, small and breathless and punctuated with a slow kiss that almost makes Alec forget the whole conversation. Until Magnus pulls back and says, “If shirts are so dumb, I think we should remove yours.”

Alec shakes his head at the comment, but reaches for his shirt. Magnus teasing him is no reason to ignore a good suggestion. He manages to get his shirt off when Magnus shifts back, allowing him to sit up enough to pull it over his head. As soon as it’s out of the way, Magnus’ hands are on him again, fingers dancing along his stomach like trails of electricity. Alec shivers under the touch, raising his chin to steal another kiss. 

“You were right,” Magnus murmurs against his lips. “Shirtless is better.”

Waves of heat roll through Alec’s body, but he can’t tell which belong to him and which belong to Magnus. He stops trying to figure it out in favor of simply enjoying the sensations. He loosens his hold on his side of the bond, wanting to share some of his pleasure with Magnus. 

There’s another scar across Magnus’ neck, smaller and thinner than the one on his back. Alec traces it with his lips. He doesn’t know what this one is from, but he’s glad Magnus survived it. 

Magnus gasps and his eyes slam shut so quickly Alec worries he’s hurt him. “Magnus?”

“I’m—it’s nothing,” Magnus says, still not opening his eyes. Alec can feel that he’s lying. An undercurrent of putrid anxiety leaks through the bond. 

Not knowing what he did wrong, but desperate to fix it, Alec cups Magnus’ face in his hands and kisses him softly. “Do you not want to?”

“No—I mean, yes. It’s just…sometimes I lose control,” Magnus admits with clear shame. His eyes open to reveal the golden cat eyes Alec adores. 

“Magnus,” Alec breathes, pushing his awe through the bond. “They’re gorgeous. You’re gorgeous.”

“Alexander.”

“Do you know what I thought the first time I saw your eyes? I thought, ‘they look like home’. The color reminded me of my parabatai and spring sunshine.” Magnus’ eyes are wide and vulnerable so Alec kisses one of his eyebrows and continues, “I know you have your father’s eyes, and I can’t…I don’t know what that means to you, but for me, your eyes are just another part of you. And you’re gorgeous.”

“Darling, you are…” Magnus trails off, voice sweet and amazed. He cups Alec’s face as he kisses him again, soft and sweet. 

Things slow down after that. The passion is still there, a drive for more, to be together, but it has a softer edge to it. It feels comfortable as Magnus tugs off Alec’s shirt. It feels warm as he’s pressed against Magnus’ bed. It feels safe as Magnus kisses him, necklaces trailing across his chest. 

Alec doesn’t try to fight Magnus for control. Magnus knows more about this than him so he simply follows along, trying to take mental notes as they go. Magnus uses magic to get rid of Alec’s pants, but he’s caressing his hip and kissing down his neck so Alec barely notices. It’s only the feel of Magnus’ naked legs against his own that alerts him to the change. 

Magnus’ teeth nick over his rune and it feels so good Alec lets out a startled moan. He has to do that to Magnus later to see if he likes it as much.

When Magnus pulls off Alec’s underwear, Alec’s heart is racing in his chest, but he’s not anxious at all. He couldn’t be more at ease. 

The bond is a point of reassurance. Alec thinks he’d be more insecure without it telegraphing Magnus’ arousal and contentment. It’s comforting to know Magnus is enjoying this, even if Alec’s barely done anything for him. 

“I waited for so long to be rescued from Edom,” Magnus says, thumb rubbing little circles over Alec’s bare hip. “I never expected to meet someone like you there.”

“A Shadowhunter-demon hybrid?”

Magnus nips at Alec’s abdomen, and it hurts, but in a way that makes Alec’s skin buzz pleasantly. “An angel.”

“I’m not—”

Magnus’ hand wrapping around him stops Alec’s words in his throat. How can he be expected to speak when Magnus is touching him so intimately?

“My angel,” Magnus murmurs before moving down, down, down.

 

Alec doesn’t last long. He thinks he should be embarrassed, but he’s too happy for it. It hardly seems to matter when Magnus is moaning above him. 

“I swear I usually last longer,” Magnus says, and Alec’s orgasm-drunk brain realizes Magnus just came with him.

He shudders. 

“The bond made it…intense,” Magnus muses, lying back beside Alec. Alec reaches for him, finding his hand and placing a kiss to his knuckles.

“Yeah, the bond.”  

Magnus smiles, turning onto his side. “It’s been a long time since I got to do that, I’m glad it was with you.”

“I’m glad my first time doing that was with you,” Alec says, squeezing Magnus’ hand. Then he frowns. “But next time, I want to touch you.”

Magnus wiggles closer to kiss him. He tastes like toothpaste, not what Alec had been expecting. He’s almost certain magic was involved. “I won’t object to that.”

Alec cuddles into Magnus’ warmth, sleepy and sated and almost ecstatic. He can feel the hum of Edomite magic somewhere deep inside him, but it’s a minor concern at the moment. He hadn’t expected to return from Edom at all, much less with magic, a hellhound puppy, and a warlock boyfriend. It still makes his head spin to think about. 

Alec kisses Magnus again, thinking he’d do it all over again to end up here. 

Notes:

This was a fun fic to write and post, I hope it was an enjoyable read <3