Evie Stanton
Thane eyed me intensely as I signed the marriage certificate. Desmond sat next to me, signing as our witness while Katarina prepared the paperwork and officiated to make it legally binding.
I knew my parents would refute it, so we had to do everything possible to make it iron-tight.
I passed Thane my quill for him to sign next to my signature.
“Are you sure you don’t want a traditional wedding?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips.
He already knew my answer. “Honestly, fuck weddings,” I grumbled.
Thane made a throaty noise, eyes flickering with amusement. “White dresses never suited you anyways,” he agreed cheekily.
Desmond wheeled out from under the desk. “I still wish I could’ve been there. Sounded like a good time.”
“You always did love a little chaos,” Thane retorted.
At his statement, Des grinned.