I write it carefully, then look at Shadow's form.
He's already filling it in, his handwriting surprisingly neat.
Our hands brush as we trade papers to check each other's information.
This is real.
We're really doing this.
The clerk stamps something, slides a paper across the counter. "Congratulations. You can get married anywhere in Nevada now. License is valid for one year."
I stare at the marriage license.
My name. Shadow's name. Waiting to be official.
"Thank you," Shadow says, folding it carefully and tucking it into his pocket.
Outside, I lean against the truck, trying to breathe.
"You okay?" Shadow asks, his hands on my hips.
"I'm about to get married, and I'm wearing jeans and a tank top."
Shadow's smile is soft. "You could wear a garbage bag and you'd still be the most beautiful bride I've ever seen."
"You're biased."
"Damn right I am."
Shiver approaches with his phone. "Got some news. Good and... interesting."
"Good, first," Shadow says.
"Cobra's bringing the whole club. Figured you'd want witnesses. Protection. All of it." Shiver grins. "So, you're getting married in front of about thirty Reapers Rejects, and Damon knows someone who can back date the license, so all of it is sorted."
My eyes widen. "Thirty?"
"Brotherhood, Grace. Someone threatens one of ours, we show up. You're my sister. That makes you ours."
Warmth floods my chest. "Thank you."
"What's the interesting news?" Shadow asks.
Shiver's grin turns wicked. "Cobra's gonna officiate, and he’s putting on quite the outfit for you two."
I blink. "What?"
"He said, and I quote, 'If they're getting a Vegas wedding, I might as well stick to tradition.'" Shiver's laughing. "He's committed to the bit."
Shadow groans. "Jesus Christ."
Banshee's dying laughing. "This is the best day of my life."
I start laughing too, because what else can I do?
I'm getting married by a biker named Cobra dressed as Elvis in front of thirty outlaw bikers.
This is my life now.
