Page 136 of Fallen Omega

“You be careful. Glass fucking houses, man. Glass fucking houses. And yours is shattered around you. By you. Fuck, Dante, I didn’t kill someone because he put a hand on Liz.”

His eyes narrow. He takes a swallow from the bottle.

Reaper’s looking at him now. He takes the cigarette, ashes it and studies Dante. “You killed someone?”

“He deserved torture first.”

“And then,” I say, before Dante says more, “he dragged pretty Liz off and fucked with her.”

He doesn’t say a word.

Neither does Reaper.

They should start a podcast. It’d be great.Strong, Silent, and Dante.Fuck. I down my drink.

The reason it tastes so damn good now is I think it’s hitting me hard. Because the sharp edges are going, the explosion deflating alittle.

“What I do, and when I do it, is none of your fucking business, Knight. This is my business, my pack. I invited you.”

His voice is a snarl.

And the back of my head starts to burn as I grab the rum and fill my glass. Reaper’s eyes flicker. I think that’s his version of a wince.

This time, Reaper picks up his drink. “Dante.”

One word. Quiet, low. Measured.

But Dante’s attention’s hooked and he lifts his eyes to Reaper. Narrows them.

“Back the fuck down.” Reaper reaches for another cigarette from the crumpled pack but doesn’t light it. “You too, Knight.”

“Keep the fuck out of it, Reap.” Dante lifts his bottle in the air.

“You invited us, set it up with Ghost,” Reaper says.

Dante goes still.

“And,” Reaper continues, “I don’t give a fuck who you recruited, strong armed or sent an engraved invite to. We are the Unholy Trinity. The three of us. We have our places, but it’s ours. Not yours. If I’m wrong?” He shrugs. “I walk.”

Dante stares at him a long time, then finally he nods and looks at me.

“That prick deserved to die.” He holds my gaze. “He touched her. Douche would have tried to fuck her and you know it. As for the rest? Lizette was fucking panting for it.”

“Panting?” I say to him. “You’re a cocksucker.”

His smirk is nasty. “No. She is.” He lifts the bottle to his lips and knocks back a mouthful. “Not very good. Yet. But still a revelation.”

“Guess you couldn’t keep it up to fuck her properly,” I snarl.

“It’s all fucking, Knight. Every hole. Matter of perspective.”

“Matter of manners,” I say, skating close to wafer-thin ice. No matter what I say, he’s the Dante of the alphas in here. And I don’t give a fuck. The difference in standing is miniscule, butpresent. And…yeah. Right now, I don’t care. “You’re talking about Liz.”

“She’s a commodity,” he says, a bitter note in his voice. “And she’s not your little girlfriend. Fucker.”

I know what I want to say. Cross all the lines. I want to pin him to the wall and pound my fist into his smug face. Pound some sense into him.

The bite mark’s keeping her here, I’m aware of that. But he’s not immune to her. None of us are.

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