Ok, this is my favourite chapter. I really hope you like it, because I have loved writing it. Please review to let me know what you think. Enjoy :)

Magnus sank to his knees. Dead; she was dead. His heart splintered as he thought about the little girl who had greeted him at his doorway all those years ago, greeted him as though he were exactly the person she wanted to see, despite the fact she had no idea who this strange person was or what was going on, and complimented his cat eyes. She had been so brave, and even now…Magnus blinked back the tears in his eyes as he took in the two men crying over Clary's body. They needed to leave Seelie. They needed to take her somewhere safe, somewhere where she wouldn't be hurt again. Jace was holding Clary's hand as though it was the only thing anchoring him to the world, staring at her face as if he expected her to keep talking. To say goodbye. And Simon… Magnus would be strong for them. He would mourn, but not here, not in the place that had taken her from them. She was part of his family and Magnus would be damned if he let her stay in this place a minute longer. Pulling himself to his feet, he approached where Simon remained drawing iratzes on her skin, barely looking up to see if they worked, just drawing and drawing and drawing. Kneeling beside Simon, Magnus didn't touch him, didn't stop him. He just spoke.

"They won't work, Simon. She's gone now." He didn't look up, didn't acknowledge Magnus' presence, just drew that shape over and open, the ink disappearing the moment the iratze took shape.

"It will work." Another iratze disappeared. "The next one." And so Simon drew, and kept drawing, tuning out the world, tuning out Jace's sobs, or Emma's quiet tears, muffled in Julien's shoulder, or even Alec's silence that seemed so loud to Magnus. But this was lost to Simon and he just drew. Magnus fought the tears that brimmed in his own eyes, as he took in Simon's blank expression. Losing his parabatai, his best friend since birth. Magnus hated the words as they came out of his mouth, but Simon needed to hear them, to hear something.

"Clary is dead." He stood at that, and moved to Alec's side, gripping his husband's hand with all the strength it was taking to keep from breaking down. He had seen many deaths in his time, but his Clary…she had been special, his friend through so much, she had stood in front of him, refused to let him get taken by his father. And he had stood back and watched her die. Simon had stopped drawing, and he stayed kneeling, though he still didn't look at her, just into his hands, his expression still angry. Without speaking, both Simon and Jace stood, Jace scooping Clary into his arms, and Magnus created a portal, his hands shaking as he watched Jace and Clary disappear into it. Everything would be different, broken. He followed them through the portal.

Emma couldn't stop crying, couldn't let go of Julien, who held her, stroking her hair, and she couldn't take her eyes of Clary. Clary was like a big sister to her, and Emma felt her death like a wound that would never properly heal. As she stepped through the portal, she watched the others come through, and there was silence for a moment as though they were trying to figure out what to do. Jace was on his knees in the centre of the large library, cradling his wife's body in his arms, his expression shattered. Alec stood aside, his expression still, shocked, as though he couldn't move, even to comfort his parabatai, and Magnus stood beside him, silent tears falling down his cheeks, as he gripped his husband's hand. Simon had stayed at the edge of the library, his eyes on the floor, his expression angry, not looking at them. His expression didn't change. Not even as the doors to the library opened and Mark walked in, followed by a dark haired, beautiful woman. Mark moved to Julien's side, his expression wistful, but it was to Isabelle that Emma looked, waiting for her to realise what they all knew.

"Magnus sent me a fire-message before he left, telling me to come to LA, that it was about Clary, so I sent for…" Her voice stopped, a choking sound coming from her, as though all the air had left her body at once. Emma knew the moment her eyes had seen the body, lying in Isabelle's brother's arms. "No, no, please…" She trailed off waiting for someone to tell her it wasn't true, scanning the faces in the room. Finally, her eyes returned to Clary, and her breath shuddered out of her as she stumbled to Jace's side. "She's…she's…" Izzy couldn't say more as tears fell, and Emma watched her lose the only sister she had ever had. Her arms went around Jace, and at the contact, Jace seemed to fully break, sobs racking through him, shaking his body and his grip on Clary loosened as he let himself cry. Emma cried, her tears falling onto Julien's shirt as she watched the person she had always aspired to be, lose everything. Izzy still cried, her arms around her brother, and she glanced around the room, her eyes resting on the glass table in the centre of the room, before she whispered something to Jace. Jace nodded slowly, and let Izzy pick up Clary with such ease and carry her over the table. Jace moved with her, his hand never letting go of Clary's and he sat in the chair beside her, not letting go. Never letting go. Izzy stood behind him, her hand on his shoulder, and Alec moved to stand beside her, wrapping his arm around her and placing a hand on Jace's other shoulder, holding them both as they cried, his own expression still shocked, staring down at Clary's still face. Emma wondered who had closed her eyes.

So much grief, so little time. Everything was going so quickly, and Emma was lost in tears and pain and love. The double doors opened again, and two more people entered, people who were familiar to Emma though she couldn't quite place them. Until she saw them take in Clary's body. Then she knew. Jocelyn Fairchild and Luke Garraway ran to the other side of the table, and as Jace saw them, he let go of Clary's hand, long enough to let them hold her. Her parents. Jocelyn, who had lost her son already. And now her daughter had been wrenched from her. She took hold of Clary's hand and held it, her face so full of pain, of grief, and longing for her daughter to open her eyes. Jocelyn sat in the seat beside the table, still holding her daughter's hand, and her eyes full of words unsaid. Luke stood and looked down at his daughter, at the child that had not been biologically his, but who he had loved with all of his heart. She had been his family. And now she was gone. His tears fell and his hand stroked her hair, the way he might have done when she had awoken from a nightmare and it had been his job to comfort her. She was his child.

"I'm so sorry, kid, I'm so sorry." His words were murmured, but Emma remembered her own father and the way he had spoken softly to her when she had been upset, and she wanted to scream at the world for what it had taken. Someone loved by so many. The room was quiet for a long time and no one moved, except Magnus to rest his head on Alec's shoulder. Emma didn't know how much time had passed when Jace broke the silence. He didn't look at any of them as he spoke, only to Clary and he gripped her hand tighter than ever, so much love in his eyes, and misery.

"She was pregnant." It was as though someone had sucked all of the air out of the room, and Emma held onto Julien tighter than ever, willing herself not to cry, not to run from the room and sob. Luke rested his head on Jocelyn's, crying quietly and Izzy staggered forwards a step, looking at her friend as though she had never seen her before, and then looked to her brother's anguished expression.

"Oh, Jace," she whispered, but Jace didn't look at her, instead looking up and staring directly across the room at where Simon still stood, unmoving, expressionless, eyes meeting Jace's.

"She wanted you to be godfather, she said." He looked as though he was going to say something else, but couldn't get the words out, and so just looked back to Clary. Emma watched Simon, waiting for some emotion, for something to flash across his face. His parabatai was dead, his best friend – by the angel, every Shadowhunter in the world knew how much they loved each other – and he showed nothing. The whole world felt like it was collapsing, and Simon was watching it without so much as flinching. Jocelyn Fairchild turned from where she sat, her own face full of such sorrow, her tear-filled eyes looking to Simon.

"Simon…" She began, but Simon didn't look at her, didn't look at any of them as he walked from the room, silently. Jocelyn stood as though she might follow him, and Emma remembered that Jocelyn had been like a second mother to Simon growing up. But even as she rose, her eyes moved back to her daughter, and she looked as though she wanted nothing less than to leave her child. Emma remembered the way that Julien had clung to Livvy over two years ago now, the way he had wanted to be the last one to carry her, his child. Because that was what she had been: he had cared for her, trained with her, read her stories, played with her, cooked for her, scolded her. The way that he had looked at Livvy then reminded Emma of how Jocelyn now looked at Clary. Watching the same scene, Isabelle smiled weakly at Jocelyn, and straightened her spine and blinked back the fresh tears still in her eyes.

"I'll go." Jace didn't seem to notice anything had happened, his eyes remaining on his wife, his beautiful, brilliant wife, now lying dead on a table, and Izzy breathed shakily as she walked past Clary's body, before walking from the room.

Izzy couldn't think about it, couldn't think about the fact that her friend, her sister was dead. That she hadn't been here to save her. That she hadn't gotten to say goodbye. She couldn't think about it because she knew that if she did, she would break down, that she would start crying and she wouldn't be able to stop. Instead, she focussed on putting one foot in front of the other, on trying to find her husband. He hadn't looked at her, hadn't looked at any of them, and she had no idea what was happening in his head. She had only heard about the torture of losing your parabatai, and she couldn't imagine that sort of pain. Even before the bond, Clary and Simon were a pair, had their own bond that no one and nothing could break. She remembered the first time Clary had come to the institute, how Simon had followed her, had waited with her, had stayed with her through all the madness, even though he really had no idea what was happening. He had stayed because she was his best friend, and he would always put her before himself. And then when the vampires had taken Simon, and Clary, a teenager who hadn't even heard of the shadow world days before, had plunged herself into a vampire den to bring him back. She had seen them save each other time and time again, stand by each other. And now she was gone, and Isabelle had no idea where Simon was, how he was dealing with this. Noting a slightly ajar door, Izzy pushed the wood, and peered inside. The room was simple, likely one of the rooms for Shadowhunter guests that every institute had, and there sat on the bed, stele in hand, was Simon. Walking towards him, she waited for him to look up, to notice her, but his head remained bent over his stele. "Simon, are you all right?" Simon still didn't look up, and Isabelle perched beside him on the bed, staring at the rune he was tracing and retracing as it vanished. He seemed to curse under his breath every time it disappeared, but he just kept trying. Finally, he spoke, but he didn't look at her.
"Clary would be able to do it." His words were frustrated, but empty, and he could have been talking about anything.

"Do what, Simon?" She kept her words soft, her voice cautious. She had seen people grieve, so many people after the Dark War, but she didn't think she had ever seen this. Placing a hand on his arm, Izzy craned her head to examine the rune that was vanishing on his skin again, but not before she caught sight of what it was. "Oh Simon." She had no words as she watched him redraw the parabatai rune where it had faded, as it did after parabatai died. She wanted to cry, to hold him, but he wouldn't look at her, wouldn't even acknowledge anything had happened. Her strong, kind husband. She didn't want to bring him pain, but he needed to feel it, because if he didn't now, it would eat him up. "Simon, that won't bring her back. Even Clary couldn't make it work."

"Then I have to!" He yelled it, spinning on her, his eyes enraged, not at her, never at her, but at everything that had happened. He let out a breath, and his voice quiet. "I have to, Iz." Izzy fought the tears, taking his stele from his hand and placing it behind her, before taking his hands in hers.

"You can't, Simon, I'm sorry. You just can't. Clary is dead." The words stung the back of her throat, and she watched them register with Simon, whose face went ashen, his hands shaking and his eyes filling with tears.

"But…my…" he breathed deeply, breaths quickening, head shaking, eyes filling with desperation. "Iz…I can't breathe…why can't I…?" His head shook more and more now, and Izzy cried as she watched half of his heart ripped away from him. "I need air, I need to breathe, I…" He didn't finish as he moved from the room, and the room blurred as tears filled Izzy's eyes. Everything had fallen apart, and Simon's whole world had crumbled in on him, but how could she comfort him when all she wanted to do was cry and scream and beg for her friend to come back. What support could she offer him? It was the thought that stayed with her, even as she followed him from the room, and as she looked for him through the institute. Maybe she couldn't comfort him, but she wouldn't let him be alone either. He needed her, and if all she could do was hold him, then she would do that.

Julien held Emma as she cried, held her as she watched the person who had saved her after the Dark War fade away from the world. He watched Jace's expression as the strong warrior stared at his wife, his eyes begging, pleading for her to return to him, and Julien had never been so grateful to have Emma at his side. Shadowhunters often died young, in their line of work it was inevitable. But now that he had Emma, now that they could be together without the parabatai curse standing between them, he didn't think he would ever let her go. The thought of her dying, it didn't bear thinking about. He watched Simon as well. He knew what it was to no longer have a parabatai, but when he and Emma had lost their bond, they had been joyful, because they could be together. Simon had lost his parabatai in the worst way possible. Julien couldn't even imagine that pain. And so, he held on to Emma, held her to remind himself that she was here, that she was safe. And all the while, the strong, kind shadowhunter who had saved the world more times than he could count, who had prevented that future he saw in Thule, and who had been there for the Blackthorns through everything, was dead. It had been an hour now, maybe two, since they had returned from Fairie, and the room was quiet. Luke still held onto Jocelyn, whose eyes never faltered from her daughter, and on Clary's other side, Jace sat, his head hung in utter defeat, and devastation. Magnus had moved to a small couch by the side of the room, and was quietly crying into Alec's chest. Alec still looked like some bomb had hit and he kept looking around the room as though trying to make sense of the situation they were in. Simon and Izzy had left about an hour ago, and not returned, and Mark had left to make sure none of the other Blackthorns came into the library. Emma and Julien just stood and watched, holding on tightly to each other, a promise to never let go.

Finally, Alec stood, and approached the table, his eyes going between his parabatai, and Clary's parents. His words were hushed, but Julien made out the words 'funeral' and 'beach'. There was a long stretch of silence before an answer came, but it did so in the forms of nods and quiet agreements. With that, Alec left the room, to write a fire message to the Council. It was evening, Julien noted, glancing outside, and he bed his head to Emma's, whispering, "I have to go and tell the kids what happened. They'll be worrying." Emma nodded and glanced back at the table quickly before speaking again.

"I'll go with you." They left the room without another word, and began to make their way to where the Blackthorn's rooms were, but as they passed the kitchen, Emma halted, glancing inside. Following her gaze, Julien saw Alec, bracing his hands on the table, looking like someone who was finding it hard to breathe. Emma gave Julien a sad smile.

"You go ahead. I'm going to go and get Magnus." Julien watched her turn and hurry back to the library, and moved quickly himself from the door of the kitchen before Alec saw him. Making his way up the stairs, Julien was still trying to wrap his head around everything that was happening. It had only bene a few hours, and the world seemed so different. He thought of all of the people in this house who had had such an integral part of their lives ripped away and it reminded him of the Hall of Accords all those years ago, how he had cradled Livvy in his arms. Then, of the world in Thule where their whole family had suffered so much, because Clary hadn't been alive. Now she was gone again, and Julien never thought he'd forget the look on her family's face as she had slipped away, the look on Emma's face. Stepping down the hall to the Blackthorn's rooms, Julien frowned at the door to the roof that was slightly ajar. Perhaps it had slipped open in all the chaos, or perhaps one of his siblings was up there. If the latter was the case, then he would go up and tell them to come down. They should hear this together. Walking up the steps that led to the other door, he found that open as well, but as he stepped onto the roof, feeling a cool breeze brush his face, he stopped still. A scream, so broken and pained that Julien was already reaching for his stele to heal whoever it was came from the other side of the roof that looked over the ocean, but as Julien stepped forwards again, the figures came into view. Simon was on his knees, arms out as though calling to the heavens, and he was screaming with agony and loss and more emotion than Julien had ever heard. Julien could only see him from behind, and he was thankful because he was sure the expression that came with that kind of pain would haunt him forever. A few steps away from Simon, staring at her husband with such horror and distress, was Isabelle, her black hair blowing in the breeze, and tears running down her cheeks. Simon stopped for a moment, sobs wracking through him his breathing shaky and his fists beating the roof in rage. He cried before raising his eyes to the heaven again, but when he yelled this time, it was a name. Her name. Simon screamed for his parabatai, screamed for her to come back, to ease the pain, and Isabelle moved towards him, kneeling beside him and holding him through his pain. Stepping back haltingly, Julien rushed towards the door. This wasn't something he was supposed to see. And as he made his way to the rooms of his siblings, the screams of a parabatai left alone followed him with every step.

Magnus felt like someone was squeezing on his heart, trying to make it pop. He could barely breathe, looking at her, still covered in blood, so much blood, that had been drained from her by people who had no idea how much good they were taking from the world. When Emma approached, her expression raw, her cheeks tear stained, Magnus was already on his feet, but as he stood, he realised he didn't know why, or where he planned on going. Emma was so strong, she reminded him a little of a younger Jace, and she had loved Clary, as Clary had loved Emma. Clary had had so much taken from her during the war, and had killed her sibling, and Magnus above all people knew what it was to wonder if someone could have been better, could have been saved. She had taken Emma under her wing, had kept in touch and reminded the Carstairs girl that there was something worth fighting for, even in all the darkness. Magnus knew the pain in Emma's eyes was just a fraction of what she must be feeling.

"Alec, in the kitchen." She didn't have to explain more than that, and Magnus moved towards the door, but as he passed Jace, his head shot up, moving for the first time in a long time. Magnus knew that he could feel the pull to his parabatai, but he should not have to leave her. Placing a hand on Jace's shoulder, Magnus gave his best attempt at a reassuring smile, though he was sure it wobbled as his eyes moved to the body next to them.

"I'll go. You stay with her." She deserved that. Someone to stay with her, to stand by her, even now. She deserved that. And she deserved so much more.

Walking into the kitchen, Magnus found his husband stood frozen, his hands braced on the counter, his head hung. Not speaking, Magnus moved to stand beside him, placing his hand over Alec's, in silent comfort. Alec had barely responded, and Magnus didn't know why. His face had just remained frozen in an expression in between confusion and concern. Upon feeling Magnus' hand, Alec's head shot up, as though he hadn't heard anyone come into the room, hadn't felt his husband walk right up beside him. This was the man who knew that their children had woken up moments before they started crying, and who was aware of anyone in a mile radius of him at all times. His eyes returned to the table after a moment.

"I sent out the fire message. The funeral will be tomorrow morning, on the beach. Shadowhunters and Downworlders will come from all over the world." His words were closed, disbelieving, as though he didn't understand what was happening still.

"Alec…" Magnus started, before trailing off. He didn't know what to say. He could hardly ask if he was ok, because he obviously wasn't, but Alec spoke anyway.

"She's dead." He looked up to Magnus, as though he was asking him a question, his head cocked, his brow furrowed. "She's dead, Magnus. And she's not coming back. She's dead." Magnus nodded, holding Alec's hand tighter, willing himself to be strong for his husband. He couldn't break down again. Alec pressed on, trying to talk himself through what had happened. "Clarissa Fairchild is dead. Clary Fray is dead. She's…" He cut off, choking on the words, lowering his head, ashamed. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with tears. "Angel above, Magnus, I wasted so much time hating her. At the beginning, I hated her, just for what she was to Jace, and even afterwards, I wasn't kind to her. I wasn't welcoming, the way Izzy was, or understanding, the way Jace was, or supportive, the way Simon was. I was Alec, the one who was rude, who acted like she was the worst thing that ever happened to us." Tears ran down his cheek, and Magnus' heart broke. He could count the number of times he had seen his husband cry on one hand, and here he was, broken, caught in the past.

"Alec, that was years ago. You both moved on from that."

"But I wasted all that time hating her, and afterwards, she became our family. She was so strong, so kind, and she was my friend, my family." He turned back to Magnus, his eyes desperate. "Did I ever tell her, how much I loved her, how much she meant to me?"

"She knew." Magnus spoke the words he knew to be true. Despite its rocky start, Alec and Clary's friendship had been a true one. Clary had known how much she meant to him, she had known that she was part of their family, just as they were part of hers.

"How am I supposed to get up there tomorrow, as the Consul, and give an impassive message of mourning, as though I barely knew her? That is what is expected, that is what I must do, but how can I?" His voice broke and let Magnus hold him as he cried, burying his head in his shoulder, defeated as the grief overwhelmed him. "I miss her." Magnus held his husband as he broke down, as he sobbed into his shoulder and broke down for the girl who had been like family to both of them. Tomorrow would be hard, for so many people, but they would stay together. The whole shadow world would come together to mourn the person that had been so much more than a saviour to them.

Emma spent the night with the Blackthorns, barely sleeping, and watching her family dream, haunted by everything that had happened that day. Ty wasn't here, of course, being at the Scholomance, but he would come tomorrow, as would Helen and Aline, who had been visiting the New York institute. So many would come to the LA institute for this funeral, all the people who had ever loved and cared for the incredible woman that had been ripped from them. Emma couldn't put into words how grateful she was for Julien comforting hold that night, where they slept on the floor of Dru's room, Tavvy set up on the camp bed he had dragged in here. Tonight, the family needed to be together, reminded of what it had been like when they had lost their own sister all those years ago, like Simon, Alec and Izzy now had. Still, as Emma lay there in Julien's arms, she couldn't stay still. Sleep eluded her, and so she slipped from the room, padding barefoot through the institute, shivering in only Julien's long shirt and her pair of loose shorts, the hairs rising on her legs as she made her way down the large institute stairs. Moving towards the library doors, Emma braced herself for the sight of her friend, lying dead and cold. Pushing the door open, however, Emma only took a single step into the room before pausing, faced with the sight of Jace Herondale, still sat, staring at his wife, as though she was the only thing in this world worth looking at. Emma was reminded of every look between them, that night when she had seen them in the Herondale manor, the love between them. The love that had saved them time and time again. But hadn't been enough to save her this time. She didn't know why she had thought Clary would be alone, but now, Emma hovered unsure of what to do. She hadn't known what her original intention had been, coming down here, but now she was here she remembered a conversation on the roof of the institute a long time ago with Clary. A conversation that she had forgotten after the war all those years ago, and Clary had been safe, safe from the possible future Thule had shown them. Thinking of the Fairie realm where they had found her though, with the dark sky and cracked land, and of Clary's bloody body, Emma was reminded of the dreams Clary had described. Dreams of her death, of the darkness that loomed over her fate.

"Jace?" She spoke quietly, but it echoed on the high ceiling of the library, through the night, and his head rose, reluctantly from his wife, taking Emma in with no surprise, as though it was completely normal that she had come down in the middle of the night to see a woman who couldn't move or speak.

"Emma Carstairs." It wasn't a question, simply an observation, almost as if he was getting to grips with understanding this new world without his wife in it. She took a step closer, and his eyes remained on her, sensing her intention to speak. Her voice was choked, unsure of how to approach it, but she had to try. For Clary.

"Jace, I should tell you something." His eyes met hers, no curiosity in them, no interest, all of his emotions focussed on his grief. Still, she stepped into the room a little more, flexing her hands in front of her, nervous. "During the war, Clary told me about something. About dreams she had started having of Thule, but she didn't know they were of Thule. I mean…I'm explaining it wrong." She stared down at her hands, searching for the right words. "She saw visions of her death. That was why she held back marrying you." Jace twisted her ring where it still lay around her finger, eyes full of love.

"Yes, she told me, after Thule. Why she had said no, at first. She told me."

"But that's not what I came to say. She knew, even after Thule, when I saw her, she had the same look in her eyes that she had on the rooftop when she had first told me. She knew she was going to die. And she was not afraid, not of that." Jace sat, exhaling a breath of air, his eyes full of more pain than before, and Emma rushed to finish her words, wondering if she should have started talking at all. "She wasn't afraid of dying, Jace. She was afraid of wasting her life. Of spending even a minute without the love and laughter and joy that her family brought her. And she didn't, even at the end, she had you and she had Simon and she had all of us." Emma fought to keep the tears out of her eyes, as she stared down at Clary, as Jace now did. "She was not afraid." She whispered the words, and looked down at the face of the person who had been there for her when Emma had needed her, even if only on the other end of a telephone, and knew that Clary had been the bravest person in the world. The way Jace stared at Clary, Emma realised, was so full of grief and love and sorrow that Emma had to look away. He needed to be with her, and Emma had said what she needed to, so she stepped away. Pausing in the doorway, Emma turned back, looking at the bowed blonde head, defeated. She spoke quietly, but she knew he heard her. "Are you going to all right, Jace?" He lifted his head slowly to look at her, his eyes locking on hers, before moving back down to his wife.

"No. I don't think I can be." Emma gave a small nod, understanding. She knew what it was to have wounds that would never fully heal, was reminded when Julien often woke from nightmares with his sister's name on his lips, or when Ty would turn to talk to someone that wasn't there, remembering over and over that his twin was gone. Still, they had their family, and they were all right now. They were a family, and they had stuck together, though all the pain and the grief, and despite the gap that Livia Blackthorn had left, they were all right now. Jace would not be, not for a long time. She knew it from the look in his eyes, the pain in his voice and his defeated posture, and she prayed that his own family would be enough to hold him together. Giving another small nod, Emma spoke a final time, without judgement, or pity, but simply the truth she knew.

"I think that would make her very sad." And she walked from the room, leaving him alone with her. She didn't mean to intrude, but she was glad she had told him the words that had been brewing within her since they were in Fairie. Walking back up the stairs, Emma saw Julien about to make his way down, his expression worried.

"I woke up and you were gone. Are you ok?" She walked the final step between them and wrapped her arms around his waist, breathing in the sweet smell of him. He was her anchor through this.

"No. But I will be." He leaned back, cupping her cheek with his hand, giving her a sad smile, and the love in his eyes reminded Emma that she was not alone. Keeping her hand in his, Emma stepped up the steps again, moving towards the bedroom. "Come on, let's go to bed." And so they made their way back to the Blackthorn's communal room for the night, and though she still didn't sleep, Emma felt so safe and secure in Julien's arms. He was her person in this world, the person who would be by her side forever. And as much as the words warmed her heart, Emma could not help but think how Jace had just lost the person who he had expected to stay by his side forever. His person.