The moment you saw Jace and Clary together, something inside you cracked.

It wasn’t just the way he looked at her—like she was the only thing in the room that mattered. It was the way he held her, fingers curling around her wrist, the way he leaned in just a little too close when she spoke. The way he kissed her like he wanted you to see.

And you did. Loud and clear.

You didn’t let it show. Not when Izzy shot you a concerned look, not when Alec sighed like he’d been expecting this. Not even when Jace flicked his golden gaze toward you, something sharp in his expression, waiting for your reaction.

You gave him nothing.

But later that night, when Sebastian Verlac leaned against the weapons rack with that easy, knowing smirk, you let him talk a little longer than you should have. He was different from Jace. Where Jace was golden and fire, Sebastian was cool, smoke curling around something sharp-edged. His words were smooth, deliberate, and when he leaned in to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you let him.

Let Jace see. It worked.

The first time Jace saw you with Sebastian, his grip on his seraph blade tightened. The second time, he barely spoke to you at all. The third, he cornered you in the hall, his jaw tight, his eyes burning. "What are you doing?" His voice was low, dangerous. You raised a brow. "Walking?"

Jace let out a sharp laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Cut the crap. Him? Really?" Your chest ached, but you ignored it. "Why do you care?"

He scoffed, stepping closer, forcing you back against the wall. "Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because he’s—" He exhaled sharply, like he was trying to keep himself from breaking something. "You’re playing a dangerous game, you know that?"

You tilted your head, a slow smirk playing on your lips, even as your pulse hammered. "Funny. I was about to say the same thing to you." Something flickered in his expression—guilt, maybe. But it was gone too fast to be sure. He swallowed, voice quieter now. "This isn’t you."