[Emotions were always a difficult thing for Jace. Feeling them and sharing them. His past was always at war with his present and everyone was always trying to get into his head and heart. Letting them was the hardest thing he'd ever done. Nothing in his training ever hurt as much or scared him as deeply.

Jace frowned and took a deep breath, working up the courage. He. Jace Wayland. Trying to find the courage to speak. It was laughable if it didn't make his chest ache.]

A bar full of werewolves nearly killed me. And I deserved it. But it nearly killed you, too. Drinking an entire liquor cabinet is far easier than facing my own demons.