“Valentine is my father.”
Jace waits till he’s alone with Alec, only then does he tell him. His shoulders are square, chin raised and expression challenging, as if he’s daring Alec to condemn him.
Alec just stares at him for the longest of moments, not saying a word, the slight widening of his eyes and the parting of lips his only reaction. And Jace tries to put up an air of indifference, he tries to pretend that Alec’s opinion does not matter to him, that he’s just informing his parabatai of a slight complication that occurred, a wrinkle…
But Jace’s heart’s hammering and the longer Alec’s silence lasts, the harder it is for him to keep up the facade of studied disinterest. Because if Alec damns him, if he turns away, if he writes Jace off… Jace will shatter to a million pieces.
Finally, Alec nods once thoughtfully, and says without any reproach, “Alright. How can I help?”
And Jace’s shoulders relax, his relief so strong he feels almost lightheaded. There’s still something he didn’t lose, something his fath… Valentine did not - and will not - take away from him: his parabatai, his brother, the other half of his soul.