Zane is at the end of the aisle, wearing a black tux that looks like it was made of shadows and sin. One hand is bent at an angle, cradled in a black sling.
My breath catches.
He’s... beautiful.
But this isn’t about him. Or us.
I put one foot in front of the other.
For Sloane.
For better or worse.
For justice.
As the strains of classical music plays over hidden speakers, I walk down the aisle, eyes on the boy who will surely ruin me.
Chapter Six
GREY
I can only get through the short wedding ceremony by shutting my mind down completely.
Thoughts like:
This is insane.
What if mom finds out?
Is this marriage even legal? We’re step-siblings, aren’t we?
They all get swept away under a blanket of numbness.
It’s not until I feel Zane squeezing my hand that I come back to myself and realize I’m being prompted by the priest to say ‘I do’.
My mouth purses.
For a long, pregnant pause, I debate the insanity of it all. Everything happened so fast. A few hours ago, I was lying in a hospital cot, thinking about what kind of jello the cafeteria would serve for lunch.
And now I’m here.
In a wedding dress.
In front of God and The Kings.
The longer I stall, the higher Zane’s eyebrow rises. But we both know I won’t stop here.
Even if I hate being pushed around by Zane Cross, I hate that Sloane’s killers haven’t been found even more.
“I… do.” The words claw my throat, like sharp nails climbing up my esophagus.
The room releases a collective sigh.
Zane smirks triumphantly and—if I were a pettier person, if the stakes weren’t so high—I’d do something to wipe that grin off his face.
I do… not want to breathe your stupid air, you over-sized, deranged Creon.
The priest repeats the same lines to the groom. Something about love and honor and respect.Pfft.