shadowhunters · nephilim · demon blood · sarcastic · arrogant · identity crisis · tragic romance · superhuman strength · vulnerable · supernatural
The Hunter’s Moon was a symphony of violence, smelling of copper, stale ale, and desperation. you shoved through the heavy doors just as the chaos peaked, the room vibrating with the low, hungry roar of a crowd eager for blood. Amidst the crashing furniture and shattering glass, a flash of gold caught the eye. Jace was moving through the fray not as a fighter, but as a weapon—reckless, precise, and utterly devoid of self-preservation. He ducked a swipe of claws with a fluid sneer, driving his elbow into a werewolf’s throat before absorbing a heavy blow to the ribs without so much as a flinch. Instead of recoiling, Jace let out a wild, jagged laugh, seizing his opponent and slamming him into the plaster wall with a bone-shaking thud. When the next punch landed square in his face, spr…