Chapter 1
She had missed him.
She had missed the steadiness of his arms around her, the love that lit up his golden eyes when he looked at her, the shivers that crawled up her arms when she touched him.
Everything had been so hectic lately. The frantic search for Sebastian had meant that they were all out on patrols every waking moment. Finding him was the Clave's top priority now; they could not afford a repeat of that fatal night at the Seventh Sacred Site.
The arrival of the Angel wings at the New York institute had sent the Clave into a panicked frenzy: they had promptly given orders for all Shadowhunters to devote all their time to the search for Sebastian. They wanted him brought to their doorstep, dead or alive.
And all the extra patrols and planning had meant that Clary had had very little opportunity to be with Jace.
He had been discharged from hospital a few weeks ago, once the golden glow had faded. It was still visible, but so faint that it was barely noticeable. She could feel it when she touched him, though; a slight buzz of energy coursing through her veins.
Of course, as soon as he had left the hospital, Jace had been determined to join the patrols. After much debating and arguing, the Clave had eventually agreed.
"Just let him do it," Maryse had said, throwing her hands up in the air, "He'll never be happy until he's out there hunting Sebastian, so he may as well do it legally, under the Clave's supervision."
Clary and Jace never seemed to be on patrols together, though, and Clary privately suspected that this was not a coincidence.
However, today was different. It was the first day off they had had in weeks. Because today was the wedding of Luke and Jocelyn.
Clary was happy for them, of course. But what made her happiest was the prospect of a day filled with sunshine and music, in Jace's arms.
She looked up, her green eyes finding his. His eyes were so beautiful, flecked with a thousand different shades of gold.
"You look beautiful," Jace told her, tugging gently at her pale green dress. She smiled.
"So do you," she said, sliding her arms around him and feeling the hard ridges of muscle under his shirt.
"Yes, but I always do, so it's hardly worth commenting on."
She laughed and punched him playfully. "You should wear suits more often. They suit you."
"They do bring out my sophisticated side," he agreed, admiring himself in the full-length mirror across the room.
Someone banged on the door, loudly.
"Are you two decent?" came Simon's voice. He then walked in, without waiting for an answer. "You look great," he said.
"Thank you," said Clary and Jace, at the same time.
"I was talking to Clary," Simon said, raising an eyebrow. Jace shot him an injured glance.
"What about me?" he complained, "Don't I look great, too?"
"I thought you always looked great, so it was hardly worth commenting on?" said Clary, innocently. She and Simon laughed, as Jace stalked out of the room, muttering.
"Are you ready?" asked Simon.
"I think so," she replied, checking her red curls in the mirror.
"I mean, are you ready for this? Are you ready for the wedding? Ready for Luke to become your stepdad?"
"He always has been," said Clary, with a shrug, "This is just making it official."
"I guess that's true," conceded Simon, "Shall we go, then?"
"Okay," she said, following him out of the room.
"Have you been to see your mum yet?" he asked, as they headed down the corridor.
"No, I should probably go and see if she needs anything," she replied, "I won't be long. Go find Isabelle, I'll meet you there."
"Okay," he said, hugging her quickly and heading off down the staircase.
Clary made her way to her mother's room, and knocked.
"Come in!" called Jocelyn, so she entered, and her breath caught in her throat.
Her mother was wearing a strapless dress of palest gold, her hair cascading down one shoulder in a waterfall of perfect red curls. A circlet of twisted gold leaves held her golden veil in place. She was breathtakingly beautiful, the kind of beautiful that made people stop and stare in the streets.
"Don't stand there with your mouth open, darling, it's very unbecoming," she reproached her. Clary quickly closed her mouth (she hadn't even realised it was open) and adjusted her green dress, suddenly feeling inadequate in the face of her mother's radiance.
"You look so beautiful," she told her, weakly. Jocelyn's smile was wide and genuine.
"Thank you. So do you."
And she took Clary in her arms, and Clary could feel all the tensions that had arisen between them in the last few weeks simply melt away.
Later, Clary headed down through the streets of Alicante, to the Accords Hall. She spotted Jace, Simon, Isabelle and Alec standing over one side, and walked over to them.
Isabelle looked perfect, as usual, in a short, light pink dress, with her dark hair piled on top of her head, a couple of strands framing her face.
Alec wore a midnight blue suit, which brought out the colour in his sad, blue eyes. He'd started wearing a lot of blue lately. Magnus had always said that blue suited him.
Isabelle and Simon were holding hands, she realised. Simon looked a little confused, while Isabelle looked ever so slightly smug. Alec, caught up in his melancholia, barely seemed to have noticed.
"Clary!" exclaimed Isabelle, running over to hug her. "Want a drink?"
"Sure," said Clary, following her over to the table laden with strange foods and drinks. "How's Alec?"
"Still just as depressing as ever. I half expect him to start singing along to Taylor Swift songs and eating ice-cream out of the tub. I mean, he and Magnus dated, and then they broke up. That's what people do. They date, and they break up. It's about time he got over it, for god's sake." Isabelle grumbled, pouring herself a small glass of a clear, blue liquid.
"Sometimes it's not that easy, though." She said, "For example, how would you feel if you would probably never see Simon again?"
Isabelle bit her lip, her dark eyes thoughtful. Clary poured herself a drink, and a glass of blood for Simon, and the pair went back to join the boys.
An hour or so later, the guests had all arrived and taken their seats, and Clary walked down the aisle holding an exquisite bouquet of flowers. Her palms were sweaty, her arms shaking slightly, as all the guests craned their necks to look at her. She forced a smile onto her face, her eyes scanning the crowd for Jace, Isabelle and Alec. They were sat together, near the front, next to Maryse and Robert Lightwood.
She tore her gaze away from Jace, and looked down the aisle. Luke was wearing his black ceremonial gear, marked with golden runes. Beside him was Simon, holding a golden stele, and an old, stern-looking man whom, she assumed, would officiate.
Simon had been both surprised and honoured when Luke had asked him to be his best man.
"Why me?" he had blurted out.
"Because you're like a son to me," Luke had replied, with a shrug.
Clary reached the end of the aisle, and the Shadowhunter's anthem began to play. The guests stood up to sing, as the double doors opened and Jocelyn walked through the arched doorway.
Her beauty was unearthly. Everyone's eyes were on her as, smiling demurely, she walked down the aisle.
She reached the altar, and her eyes met Luke's. He smiled, really smiled, for the first time since his sister's death.
The ceremony began, and the old man's voice was monotonous and droning. Jocelyn took off her engagement ring and handed it to Luke, as was customary. Then Simon handed Luke the golden stele.
"Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death." Quoted the old man, as the couple marked one another with the runes of love and commitment, over the heart and arm.
And so they were married, and a bell began to ring, and Luke kissed his beautiful bride. And no one watching them could possibly doubt their love.
A couple of hours later, Clary stood next to Jace. The after-party was still raging on.
"One day, that'll be us." Said Jace, suddenly, "Walking down the aisle, I mean. It'll be us. Okay?"
"Okay," whispered Clary, leaning in to kiss him.
"I love you, Clary." He murmured, as they pulled apart. "I love you."
"I love you, too." She said, quietly.
His eyes now filled with a kind of desperation, he said "When I was possessed by Sebastien… When I was with you, but not really there… Those were the worst few days of my life. I never want to let you go again."
"Just one more time?" said Clary, disentangling herself from him.
"What do you mean?" he asked, concerned.
"Can you let me go just one more time? Because I really need the toilet."
Jace laughed. "I guess I could bear that," he joked, "As long as you promise to come back."
"I promise," she grinned.
Clary battled her way through the crowd, heading for the toilets. She finally reached them, and went inside, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it, her head pounding from the loud music.
She walked over to the sink, and splashed her face with cold water. She heard a toilet flush, and in the mirror she saw a cubicle door open, and a white-haired boy step out.
"Hello, little sister," said Sebastien, with a cold smile. Clary spun round, clutching the sink for support.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"What kind of a son would I be if I didn't even come to my mother's wedding?" he said, with a shrug.
I