"Don't be so quick to judge me. After all, you only see what I choose to show you"
And with Valentine growing havoc across the Shadow world, Izzy and Alec weren't the only Lightwood siblings that seemed to have a relationship forbidden by the clave...
"It's hard to have a heart when you have stopped so many others"
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Morgana had never had things easy in her life.
Things weren't given to her in a silver platter, not the warmth on the cold nights, which she had only gained because of the loyalty of her wolves, which she had killed for.
Their furs being the only protection against the freezing winters in the forest.
Her self made armor.
Even the food she had to hunt for, it was kill or be killed, fight against stronger, larger, older animals to survive against starvation.
She had forged herself into a sword.
As sharp as the claws of the most disgusting evils she had ever fought, turning sharper, cutting deeper with each day, each second she was left alone.
The woods turned people into monsters.
Amara tried so hard to not think of her sister as one of them, that even Morgana would sometimes forget the things she was capable of.
The things she had done in order to survive
The people she had killed for the safety of her beasts
And she had never regretted any of her kills
The Seelies believed the corroded blood of her mother was the same one that coursed through her veins.
And perhaps they were right...
Because the moment a drop of blood was spilled, Mora would turn into the monstrous huntress she was born to be.
Her mind would be set on killing everyone in sight, friends and foes alike, because at one point, she had only foes.
And only would she stop the killing when the last one standing was gagging on their own blood, their bodies too scarred to even be given a proper funeral.
Not that her wolves would let any whole parts left behind
And each time a massacre would happen, her eyes would turn a shade brighter of silver, a symbol of her increased power, of how she was getting closer to assuming her throne.
But even then, she would have to fight for it, kill for it.
Remorse, remorse, remorse... was it that bad she couldn't feel it at all?
