Alec tended to sleep light. Unlike Jace and Isabelle, he woke to the lightest of noises, the softest of voices or at the first stirrings of a nightmare. Shadowhunters didn't tend to dream all that much but when they did, they were violent, bloody things that often depicted their deaths in one form or another.

Alec's nightmare hadn't been about anything that might happen in the future. It'd been the past. It'd been Abbadon and those days he'd spent floating in unconsciousness, walking the line between life and death. He still didn't remember much from that time and he wasn't sure he wanted to either.

It was that nightmare that had been walking in Luke's store right now. He didn't intend to discuss with with the werewolf but being somewhere familiar and around someone he knew might have been what he needed.

Ever since the incident with the Soul Sword, he'd been Marking himself fully even before going out for simple excursions to Luke's. He felt more comfortable with the dark runes twisting their way up his legs, torso, arms and neck. He was prepared.

He wasn't prepared for Hild, though. When he stepped in and saw her and not Luke, he frowned.

"Who are you?" he asked without preamble.