Jace Lightwood was not one for making promises. As a child his father had taught him that love would destroy him, and it was the deadliest of promises. So he heard people saying it, he always had-I promise-but the phrase frightened him. When he first appeared at the Institute, wide-eyed and alone, Maryse Lightwood took his hand and promised he would be safe there. But that had not been true; plenty danger had come to him even within the walls of the Institute. So he feared promises not just because he thought they would destroy him, as his father had said, but because he knew they could never be kept.

That was, of course, until something changed his life one night so many years later, in the haze of a nightclub. Or, someone.

Since he'd known Clary, something changed withing him without him even realizing it. Suddenly, he would have promised her anything if it would have pleased her. And when he saw, finally, what he had done, he realized that his father had been wrong about love being the most deadly promise. Love was not the promise, that was infatuation. Love was keeping your word.

So as Jace stood, his hand wrapped around Clary's, and his stele in the other, he was not afraid. How could he be afraid, he thought, when she was next to him? And of course she was so beautiful, in the simple gold dress they'd picked out together, her hair falling in waves around her face, and her eyes-her brilliant, green eyes-shining so brightly. And when she smiled, he could have fallen to his knees.

"Tantum amor scietis finis." Her hand slid from his, now on his chest, and he felt the warm sting of a stele in his arm. She was murmuring the words, and Jace was sure he'd never heard anything so beautiful. Only love shall know no end.

When it was his turn, he slid the collar of the dress down her shoulder with ease, and brought the tip of the stele to her light, freckled skin. Any other rune would have taken some thought, if only for a few moments, but this came to him simply, as if was a part of him. But now, he supposed, it was.

The rune gleemed golden as he finished the last rounding curve, and he pulled the stele away with a smile. "Tantum amor scietis finis."

He left the sleeve down, just as Clary had left his rolled up. Where she had marked him, a warmth was spreading. He could only explain it as pure joy being pushed through his veins, filling every part of him. Magnus Bane sniffled behind them, breaking Jace from his trance.

"Weddings," He lilted, his large, cat-like eyes damp. Both Jace and Clary laughed, and then turned to face the warlock. He motioned for them both to hold out a hand, and when they did, he brought them together.

"Clary," Magnus nodded to her, and she brought her eyes to meet Jace's.

"Jace Lightwood, set me as a seal upon your heart, for love is stronger than death." The words came from her tongue easily, probably from hours of practice. Jace smiled at the thought.

"Jace," Magnus turned, and Jace took in a deep breath.

"Clarissa Fray, set me as a seal upon your heart, for love is stronger than death." He recited. A tear spilled down her cheek, but she was smiling.

"Literally," He added with a grin, and pointed to his chest, where the white scar of Glorious resided, and Clary laughed, causing more joyful tears.

"Then I, Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, pronounce you-" But before he could finish, Jace leaned forward and connected his lips with Clary's, feeling her smile. He heard Alec chuckle behind them, and Magnus sighed. But he didn't care. He couldn't keep himself from her for a moment longer. He needed her, every part of her, forever.

"I love you, Clary Fray." He muttered, and she brought her lips to his neck.

"Lightwood." Clary said.

It sounded right.