Forbidden Parabatai | ✓

(1) The Nightmare

This is where the story truly begins. Hope you enjoy! Chapter 3 is when things finally begin interesting, so bear with me for a while, for these starter chapters like these are just foreshadowing and forming of the story. Stay patient and continue reading please!

Love all readers, ily! ilyttmab so tag a shadowhunter below...

 “Channy! Check this out!” Ares shouted for his parabatai, but Chantelle was nowhere to be seen. “Channy? Chantelle Carstairs this isn’t funny.” He scanned the surroundings. Was she..? No, it simply wasn’t possible. It was understood that Ares Herondale was the obvious heir to the throne left by his ancestors, that he would be the best Shadowhunter of his time, like his father and grandfather. Moreover, he was the last Herondale, after some members of the family tree went missing. But Chantelle was a close second, the best knife-thrower. She was a god with those and she never misses, even if the whole world was spinning, her knife could hit the dust off your boots miles away. Chantelle was the best female warrior to ever exist in Ares’ opinion.

But Chantelle stepped out of the shadows, blood on her face, blood that didn’t belong to her. As usual, she wore her weapons jacket, and inside was an array of different kinds of throwing knives. “Here, comrade.” She was just a little beat-up, but showed no signs of exhaustion. Her eyes flickered to what Ares held. “What? EW YOU SO DID NOT!”

Ares looked down at the head he held. “What, this? Come on, they say that if you chop a demon’s head off and hang it in your room, you’ll have good luck.”

“And who exactly is ‘they’?” Chantelle grinned.

“Zachary.”

“You know Zachary was kidding, right?”

“Believing seems fine since it’s no harm right?” Ares threw it into the air and caught it again as Chantelle crossed over, glancing down at the head. Suddenly, something hit her head hard, and she sunk into the darkness.

***

Something whizzed past Chantelle. “Follow me.” It said, and Chantelle found herself running after the creature. It came to a stop by the roadside, perching on a HoloTree. She ran smack into someone. “I’m sorr—mom?” She looked up into the same brown eyes she had.

A honk sounded. “Get in!” Yelled a man in front of the wheel. He was smiling.

“Dad.” Chantelle breathed, not believing her eyes.

“Yes, yes, it’s me. Come on, let’s go get some SoyBurgers.”

“Dad, I still want to be a Shadowhunter.”

The man sighed heavily, looking at the mirror. “Chantelle, we’re not going to have this conversation. I am not sending you to the Institute.”

Chantelle whined. “I’m a warrior, not a mundane.” They set off, and Chantelle continued whining. “I want to go to the Institute, I want to, I want to!”

Her mother gave her a warning look. “Not now, Chantelle. Not when your father is driving.”

Chantelle ignored this. She always obeyed her parents, always did what they told her to, but she felt especially rebellious today, wanting to be a Shadowhunter more than anything else. She watched a vampire kill a mundane that morning, and when she wanted to finish the vampire off, her mother pulled her back. “No, Channy. It is not your job to make sure Downworlders don’t kill mundanes. You’re not a Shadowhunter.” She had said.

But Chantelle was, and she owned a heart of one.

“I WILL GET TO THE INSTITUTE, EVEN IF IT MEANS KILLING CREW AND DRIVING THERE MYSELF.”