4: Blood and Bonds

The Institute's main hall was a mess of shattered glass and black ichor, the remnants of the corrupted Peacekeepers staining the stone floor like a grim painting. I stood frozen, my staff still clutched in my hands, the adrenaline from the fight fading into a bone-deep exhaustion. The air was thick with the stench of burnt flesh and something sharper, like ozone after a lightning strike. My heart hadn't stopped racing since the creatures burst through the doors, their red eyes and Peacekeeper uniforms searing into my mind. They were from Panem—my world, my nightmare—and now they were here, twisted into something monstrous.

Mira's face flashed before me, her small frame dwarfed by the chaos of the Reaping. I'd left her there, alone, and now pieces of Panem were bleeding into this world. Was she safe? Was she even still in District 12? The thought twisted my gut, and I gripped the pendant around my neck, its crescent moon rune cool against my skin but heavy with unanswered questions.

"Lilia," Kyle's voice cut through my thoughts, low and steady. He stood beside me, his dagger sheathed but his posture tense, like he was ready to spring into action at any moment. His dark hair was damp with sweat, and a streak of ichor marred his cheek, but his eyes were fixed on me, searching. "You're shaking."

I glanced down at my hands, surprised to see them trembling. "I'm fine," I lied, forcing my grip on the staff to steady. "Just… those things. They were Peacekeepers. From my world."

Kyle's jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, his shoulder brushing mine. "We'll figure it out," he said, his voice quieter now, almost gentle. "But you need to breathe. You're no good to anyone if you burn out."

I wanted to snap at him, to tell him I didn't have time to breathe when my sister was worlds away, but the concern in his eyes stopped me. It was fleeting, buried under his usual sarcasm, but it was there. I nodded, taking a shaky breath, and let the staff rest against my shoulder. "Thanks," I muttered, avoiding his gaze. The last thing I needed was to get distracted by the way his presence made the chaos feel a little less overwhelming.

Maryse's voice broke the moment, sharp and commanding. "Clean this up," she ordered, gesturing to the ichor-soaked floor as Jace and Clary moved to comply. Her eyes landed on me, cold and assessing. "Lilia, you're with me. We need to discuss your rune—and what just walked into my Institute."

I followed her, Kyle trailing behind, his steps silent but deliberate. Isabelle and Alec stayed to help with the cleanup, their banter a faint hum as we left the hall. The corridors were quieter now, the alarm silenced, but the red lights still pulsed faintly, a reminder of the breach. My mind raced, replaying the vision from the training room—my mother, Elara, a Shadowhunter on the run, clutching the pendant that had brought me here. She'd fled the Clave, whatever that was, and now I was caught in the fallout, a stranger in a world of angels and demons.

Maryse led us to a library, its walls lined with bookshelves that stretched to a vaulted ceiling. The room was lit by glowing orbs that floated like fireflies, casting soft light on leather-bound tomes and scrolls scattered across a massive oak table. A map of New York City was pinned to one wall, marked with symbols I didn't recognize, and a glass case in the corner held a sword that seemed to shimmer with its own light. The air was heavy with the scent of old paper and wax, and for a moment, I felt like I'd stepped into one of Mira's fairy tales—except this one had monsters that bled black.

"Sit," Maryse said, gesturing to a chair. I obeyed, though my legs itched to move, to do something other than sit and talk while Mira was out there. Kyle leaned against a bookshelf, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable but his eyes never leaving me.

Maryse paced, her boots clicking against the stone floor. "Those creatures were not demons," she said, her voice clipped. "They were human, or had been, altered by dark magic. The runes on their armor were not Nephilim—they were demonic, tied to the Greater Demon Asmodeus. And they wore uniforms from your world, Lilia. Explain."

I swallowed, my throat dry. "Peacekeepers are the Capitol's enforcers," I said, the words bitter. "They keep the districts in line—patrols, punishments, the Reaping. If they're here, it means the Capitol's involved. But I don't know how, or why."

Maryse's eyes narrowed. "The Capitol. Your government?"

"If you can call it that," I said, my voice sharp. "They starve us, pit us against each other in the Hunger Games, and call it order. If they're working with demons, it's just another way to control us."

Kyle shifted, his voice low. "Or to expand their control. If they've found a way to bridge worlds, they're not just a threat to Panem. They're a threat to the Shadow World."

Maryse stopped pacing, her expression grim. "The Clave must be informed," she said. "But your rune complicates things, Lilia. If it's tied to the First Accords, as Catarina suspects, it's a relic of a time when Nephilim wielded powers we've since forbidden. The Clave will want answers—and they may not be gentle in seeking them."

A chill ran down my spine. "What's the Clave?" I asked, though I wasn't sure I wanted the answer.

"The governing body of the Nephilim," Kyle said, his tone flat. "Think of them as your Capitol, but with more bureaucracy and less flair for public executions."

Maryse shot him a look but didn't contradict him. "The Clave enforces our laws," she said. "And they don't take kindly to anomalies. Your rune, your arrival, these creatures—it's all connected. We need to know how, and we need to know now."

Before I could respond, the library doors swung open, and a man strode in, his presence like a storm rolling through. He was tall, with silver hair and a face carved from stone, his black robes embroidered with gold runes that shimmered as he moved. Two Shadowhunters flanked him, their eyes scanning the room like hawks. The air grew heavier, and even Maryse straightened, her expression guarded.

"Inquisitor Aldertree," Maryse said, her voice neutral but tight. "We weren't expecting you."

"Clearly," Aldertree said, his voice smooth but laced with disdain. His eyes landed on me, and I felt like a deer caught in a hunter's sights. "This must be the anomaly. Lilia Thorn, is it? The girl who portaled into the Institute with a forbidden rune."

I stiffened, my hand instinctively closing around the pendant. "I didn't choose to come here," I said, my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach. "And I don't know what you want from me."

Aldertree's smile was thin, like a blade. "Answers, Miss Thorn. The Clave has taken an interest in your… situation. A rune from the First Accords, a breach in our wards, and now demonic activity tied to your world. You'll forgive us for wondering if you're the cause."

Kyle stepped forward, his body angled slightly in front of me. "She's not the cause," he said, his voice low but firm. "She's a victim of whatever's bridging these worlds. Back off, Aldertree."

The Inquisitor's eyes flicked to Kyle, and something cold passed between them. "Careful, Wayland," he said. "Your family's history doesn't afford you much leeway."

Kyle's jaw clenched, but he didn't respond. I glanced at him, catching the flicker of pain in his eyes before he masked it. Family history? What did that mean?

Maryse intervened, her voice calm but authoritative. "Inquisitor, Lilia is under our protection until we understand her rune's origins. She's agreed to train and cooperate. There's no need for escalation."

Aldertree's smile didn't waver, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Very well," he said. "But I'll be staying to oversee the investigation. The Clave expects results, Maryse. Don't disappoint us."

He swept out, his escorts following, and the tension in the room eased slightly. Maryse turned to me, her expression unreadable. "You'll resume training tomorrow," she said. "And you'll work with Catarina to study the rune. Kyle, you're responsible for her. Keep her out of trouble."

Kyle saluted mockingly, but his eyes were serious when they met mine. "Got it," he said.

As Maryse left, I turned to Kyle, my voice low. "What was that about your family?"

He hesitated, his expression closing off. "Nothing you need to worry about," he said, but the tightness in his voice told me otherwise. "Come on. You need rest. Tomorrow's going to be hell."

---

The next morning, the training room was a battlefield of its own. Isabelle had set up an obstacle course—ropes, climbing walls, and targets that moved faster than I could track. My muscles ached from yesterday, but I pushed through, driven by the need to prove myself. Not to Maryse, or Aldertree, but to me. If I was going to survive this world, I needed to be more than a girl from District 12.

Catarina joined us, a leather-bound book tucked under her arm. "We're starting with runes today," she said, her voice calm but firm. "They're the source of our power—marks drawn with angelic energy. Your pendant's rune is unique, but you'll need to master the basics first."

She handed me a stele, a slender metal wand that felt warm in my hand, like it was alive. "This is how we draw runes," she said. "Focus your intent, channel the energy, and let the stele guide you. Try a simple one—Strength."

I gripped the stele, my hand unsteady. The others watched—Isabelle with encouragement, Alec with quiet focus, Kyle with that unreadable intensity that made my skin prickle. I pressed the stele to my forearm, picturing strength, the kind that had carried me through the mines, through the Reaping. A faint glow sparked, and a symbol took shape, sharp and angular, like a flame frozen in time. My arm tingled, and a surge of energy flooded me, like I could lift a coal cart with one hand.

"Not bad," Catarina said, her eyes bright. "Now try Precision."

I drew another rune, this one smoother, like a river's curve. My vision sharpened, the room's details snapping into focus. I could see the grain of the wood on the climbing wall, the faint scar on Isabelle's knuckle. "Whoa," I breathed, my heart racing.

Kyle stepped closer, his voice low. "You're a natural," he said, and for once, there was no sarcasm in his tone. "But don't get cocky. Runes can burn you out if you're not careful."

I nodded, my arm buzzing with energy. But as I handed the stele back to Catarina, the pendant flared again, its rune glowing bright enough to cast shadows. Pain shot through me, and the room dissolved into another vision.

I was in a forest, snow crunching under my feet. My mother stood before a portal, its edges crackling with blue light. The man from my last vision—scarred, dark-eyed—was there, his hand gripping a sword. "Elara, we can't keep running," he said, his voice desperate. "The rune's tied to Asmodeus. If the Clave finds out—"

"They won't," my mother said, her voice fierce. "I'll take her somewhere they'll never look. A world where magic is a myth." She touched her stomach, and I realized again—she was pregnant with me.

The vision shifted, and I saw a laboratory, sterile and cold, filled with machines that hummed like the Capitol's factories. Peacekeepers stood guard, but they weren't alone. A figure in a hooded cloak moved among them, drawing runes on their armor—runes that glowed red, not gold. A voice, deep and guttural, echoed: "The girl is the key. Find her, and the worlds will kneel."

I snapped back to the training room, gasping, the pendant searing my skin. Kyle caught me as I stumbled, his hands steady on my arms. "Lilia, talk to me," he said, his voice urgent.

"I saw her again," I said, my voice hoarse. "My mother. She was running from the Clave, hiding me in Panem. And there was something else—a lab, Peacekeepers, someone working with demons. They're looking for me."

Catarina's face paled. "Asmodeus," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "If he's involved, this is bigger than we thought."

Kyle's grip tightened, his eyes dark. "We need to find that portal," he said. "If it's still active, it's how those creatures got here—and how we'll get you back to your sister."

I nodded, my heart pounding. For the first time, I felt a spark of hope. A way back to Mira. But the vision's final words echoed in my mind: *The girl is the key.* Whatever I was, whatever this rune meant, it was bigger than me, bigger than Panem. And I was running out of time.

---

**Author's Note**

Shadowhunters and Tributes, you're absolute legends for sticking with this! 😍 Chapter 4 is a beast, and I'm so pumped to see where Lilia's journey takes us. What's your take on her visions? Are we shipping Lilia and Kyle yet, or is it too soon? 👀 Drop your theories and feels in the comments—I read every single one, and they make my day! If you're loving *Flames of the Shadows*, please hit that vote button and add it to your library. Next chapter's coming soon, and it's gonna be a wild ride! Thanks for being the best readers ever! 💖