"I hereby render unconditional obedience for the Circle and its principles…I will be ready to risk my life at any time for the Circle, in order to preserve the purity of the bloodlines of Idris, and for the mortal world with whose safety we are charged."

I recited the promise for the first time, not meaning one word. I didn't believe in any of this, you would have to be crazy to, but my father doesn't know that. It took months of planning and pretending to worship the same beliefs as my father, but I am exactly where I wanted to be. Exactly where we planned me to be at this point. I wonder what my life would be like if I believed in what my father does…good thing I don't.

Looking around at these people and noticing their postures and seeing how stick straight they were sitting, and I automatically mimic them. I see a face with a pair of light amber eyes smirk at me as I move. I quickly look away and hope nobody else noticed me. It would be out of character of me and I had to keep up this ridiculous façade.

My father, Valentine Morgenstern, was leading the meeting about hunting down a local werewolf pack tomorrow night. I know he would never allow me to take part, that's what protective fathers are supposed to do right? Too bad Valentine was a sorry excuse for a father. I hated him. I loathed him. He killed everything that would have been important to me, before I was even born.

My mother, bless her soul, left me a diary before I was born. She hid it in the shed, where my father never went into. I went in there one day to hide from him and I found it. I opened the diary and I saw sloppy handwriting with a picture of a beautiful woman that looked more like me now then me when I found it. There were obvious differences between the picture and myself, like my broad shoulders and my jaw line. Those were Valentine's features, and I would give anything for him to not be my father. Life could be so unfair sometimes.

As my father explains it, my mother died in childbirth and Jonathon, my older brother, died shortly after falling into the lake behind our manor and getting caught in the current. Though my mother did die during childbirth (or around the time of my birth, I can never be sure) with me, my brother did not in fact fall into a lake and drown. He was killed. My father murdered him. My father is an evil man and I don't trust him. My mother didn't either, but she couldn't get away after Jonathan was killed.

I had been nine years old when I found her diary, and I haven't trusted Valentine since. He was a monster and absolutely no one sitting in this room agreed with me. I don't trust any of them, but I would rather die than tell them that. They all knew exactly how to kill me easily, and they would. The thought terrified me, and if I messed the plan up even the slightest bit I could die, and all of this would have been for nothing.

Turning 17 had been the first step in our plan. The age that Valentine considered to be an adult, but to the Counsel turning 18 is to be considered an adult. The earlier the better for Valentine, there was even a 16-year-old sitting across from me with dark, black eyes. She was beautiful, and she was a Lightwood.

Isabelle Lightwood, hateful and conceited from a young age. Yes, she was definitely perfect for the Circle. She looked exactly like her mother, if only her eyes held the same crystal blue color. Her older brother Alec sat beside her with those beautiful blue eyes. If only they had escaped Valentine, but that would have been impossible now. My mom escaped, but it had cost her her entire life and future. Jonathan escaped too, but he didn't receive a choice in the matter.

I grew up learning that in life there was only one choice: to kill or be killed. It's a miracle I didn't end up Valentine's pawn like all of these poor unfortunate souls. Acting as his pawn means that I have to speak properly and act older than my years. It means that I have to go along with everything my father says and believes in. I have to sit aside and go along with all of it, even the deaths. When they go out for the hunt, they kill people. They believe they are killing things, but I know the truth.

There are a few sitting here that have been here since birth and would rather die than betray Valentine. It is those few I feel most hopeless towards. The remaining have been here for as long as they have believed Valentine's lies. Some have been here since the beginning of the Circle, back before my mother, Jocelyn, had died. I sometimes like to believe that a few of these individuals would turn on him if given the option. It is this belief that keeps me going and gives me hope.

"Seraphina, would you like to join the hunt tomorrow night?" asked the boy who noticed me fixing my posture earlier. This is the part where I act as Valentine's pawn, because out of everyone in this room I am the one he trusts most. I mean who wouldn't trust their teenage daughter who hates their guts?

"Pardon me, but I am not allowed to join the hunt until I am of age," I said in the most monotone voice I could manage. I would have burst out laughing at the irony if my life wasn't in danger. I hated this, every single second of this stupid meeting.

He smiled a tight smile at me and his eyes twinkled, clearly amused at my discomfort. I smiled right back at him as small as I possible could. I wasn't about to mess up the plan now. Not for a pair of illuminating tawny eyes, at least. He then proceeded to turn to Valentine and give him a questioning look. I could tell he was confused by my relationship with my father and me.

"I know Jonathan, you were sixteen when you first joined the hunt, but Seraphina here has never been to a meeting before tonight. She is simply not ready," Valentine spoke clearly and loudly so that the whole room could hear his excuse for my safety. It really was ridiculous how he would put other children in danger, but not his own. Well just me really, he put my brother in danger when he killed him.

Maybe I remind him of Jocelyn, I do look a lot like her. Thank God for that one. I wonder whom my brother looked most like? I would guess my father, but it would have been nice to share my ginger locks with someone else. Valentine must want to protect me from the same fate as my mother, but I pray everyday that our fates are similar. I want the chance to live freely and justly. This isn't just or free.

As the meeting went on I began to remember those memories I had been forced to shove down into my head. I couldn't think about some of them or I would break down. I began to zone out throughout the talk about the hunt and some memories can't be put down for long.