Page 7 of Glass Omega

She was even prettier from the front, even if her dainty features were twisted into a frown, and as our gazes met, I only saw pure hatred in her green eyes.

Someone tapped my shoulder and I jerked around to find four pairs of eyes on me.

“Keep it together,” Dante muttered, his eyes moving to the priest who was clearly angry at my lack of attention.

Shifting to face him fully, I gave into my fate.

A Catholic wedding with a pack differed from the typical two-person beta weddings.

A length of pure white ribbon was wrapped around each of our wrists, tethering them together as I stood in the middle only half-listening as the priest began his introductory rite.

The ceremony passed in a hazy blur.

Sit, stand, mouth the words to the hymnal as the rest of the audience sang, sit, stand, repeat.

It was absolutely exhausting and by the time we made it to the end my legs were wobbling underneath the weight of my dress.

“And if there is any person here present who knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage, they should declare it now,” the priest’s voice filled the cathedral and he waited just a breath before opening his mouth to declare our marriage valid when a man’s voice interrupted him.

“Unfortunately, no wedding will be happening here today.”

There was a gasp and then a hush as every person in the room turned to find two men standing at the end of the aisle.

Alessandro got to his feet with some difficulty, his face turning red as he faced the men. “Keane, what the hell are you doing here?”

The name sounded familiar and I squinted to try and see who it was as people leaned into the aisle, blocking my vision of the pair.

“I’m here to collect on a debt, dear Alessandro,” the man’s voice continued and the crowd parted like the red sea as the man and his partner got closer.

I knew them, I realized with a jolt as they grinned at the congregation.

They were the men that I’d seen in the hospital. The ones that came to Dr. Stedmeyer to be patched up.

Rhodes and Edison, my brain conjured their names almost as easily as breathing. Like it had been storing them away for later because it knew they would be important somewhere along the line.

Then, I remembered what they were and why the doctor was patching them up as both men drew guns and pointed them in our direction.

The golden-eyed Edison’s lips pulled up into a smirk. “Besides, it’s always been on my bucket list to crash a wedding.”

Two

This wedding was tacky. From the sickeningly bright flowers to the bride currently being eaten alive by her dress.

I always thought Alessandro Amante had more style than this, but apparently the patriarch of the Italian mafia didn’t have a decorative bone in his body.

“I don’t owe you, nor your family any debt, Edison Keane,” Alessandro spat as several of the men who’d been guarding the doors drew their guns and pointed them in our direction.

A woman standing close to me squealed and dropped down into the pew in a faint, probably afraid she was about to get hit in the crossfire.

There was no pleasure to be had in the death of a civilian, but if I didn’t get what I came for, then I was going to rain hell on this entire damn place.

“That is up for debate, Amante, but alas, it isn’t you I’m here for.” Turning the muzzle of my gun, I pointed it at Ethan Chandler.

His wife paled and ducked behind her son as she turned as bright red as her hair.

“Edison,” the mayor of the city greeted me, offering me one of his plastic smiles. “I was just meaning to call you back.”

Our earlier conversation had ended with him hanging up on me, setting into motion the plan we’d come up with as soon as we learned the wedding would be taking place.

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