Everyone had gone inside aside for a couple of stragglers and my father who was furiously typing something on his phone.
“And I wish I could give you away to someone other than these assholes,” Romey whispered in my ear as he stared glumly at the massive closed doors that led into the nave—the main part of the cathedral. “If they so much as look at you funny you let me know and we’ll have some words.”
If I had any problems with my pack-to-be, Romey would be the last person I called. He was liable to get shot by them if he ever tried to play that game.
“Go inside with Mother,” I urged, shooing him towards the doors. I needed a minute on my own to gather my wits.
Romey shot me one last wistful look before he obeyed, tugging open the massive door and slipping inside.
The rest of the lobby had cleared out while we were speaking, even my father had stepped out to talk on his phone.
It left the lobby blessedly quiet as I stared up at the beautiful stained glass windows above the front door that depicted Saint Cecelia gazing wistfully into the sky, a portative organ tucked under one arm.
The irony that I would be getting married in a cathedral named after a martyr was not lost on me.
“No, Cini, you’re not listening,” a familiar voice echoed through the lobby before continuing dryly. “Haha, so funny I know you can’t actually hear me.”
On either side of the lobby were long halls that led out to the gardens surrounding the cathedral and the sound of a one-sided conversation continued down the one closest to me.
Curiosity, as usual, got the better of me and I quietly lifted my dress and peeked down the hall.
Elio Ricci, one of my intended alphas, and the leader of his pack, was standing with a blonde woman, both of their hands moving at a lightning face pace as they gestured at each other.
It took my brain another moment to register that they were using sign language and whatever conversation they were having was definitely an argument.
Elio frowned down at the woman before combing a hand through his brown hair. “You know why we’re doing this, Cini.”
The woman huffed loudly before planting her hands on his chest and giving him a shove.
“Luscinia…” There was reproach in Elio’s voice as he gripped the woman’s hands to keep her from continuing to wail on him.
Then his dark eyes flashed up in my direction and I ducked around the corner, my heart in my throat as I tried to digest what I’d just seen.
I didn’t care much that there seemed to be something going on between the two—I had no special attachments to my future grooms—but it still galled me that they were in the middle of what looked like a lover’s argument at our literal wedding.
Hurrying back into my place as quietly as possible, I made it just in time before my father stepped back inside from his phone call.
His face was red with anger as he yanked my hand and put it in the crook of his elbow.
“Bad phone call?” I asked dryly as I accepted the ridiculous bridal bouquet that one of the waiting assistants handed me. It had to have weighed at least ten pounds and my arm shook as I tried to hold it in one hand.
“No. Not that it’s any of your concern,” my father told me, squaring his shoulders. “Now, let’s get this over with.”
I wanted to make some kind of snarky comment at that, but instead I just tilted my chin up and waited for the doors to be open.
The ancient pipe organ began to play, the noise bouncing off of the almost impossibly high rafters of the church as the people in the packed pews stood and turned to watch the bride walk down the aisle. The bride being me.
Nothing about today was what I dreamed of when I was a little girl reading books around romance.
Not the gauche, brightly colored flowers that were hanging on the end of each pew, not the ridiculous red carpet rolled down the aisle, and certainly not the pack of four men standing at the end of it.
Elio had returned to his pack at some point, his previously soft expression when he was looking at the woman gone and in its place was one that was entirely stony.
His three packmates, Dante, Ranieri, and Nicolo looked equally as thrilled as they turned to look at me. I hoped they knew that the feeling was completely mutual.
The strains of the bridal chorus echoed in my ears, drowning out the sound of my own hammering heart as we began to take stilted steps down the aisle.
Run, run, run, my instincts screamed at me, my inner omega which had lain dormant for so long seeming to rise to the surface as I walked towards a future that filled me with dread.
I ignored it, pushing it deep down, back to the place where it’d been hibernating through almost three years of chemo and radiation.
My instincts had been numbed for so long that I didn’t know what to do with them—especially when my normal human brain was screaming the same things at me.
Every nerve ending inside of my body was going off like a five-alarm fire as we reached the dais.
Elio’s hand was clammy as he stepped down to take mine from my father’s and lead me back up the dais to join the rest of the pack.
The five of us exchanged a barely hidden grimace. Mine was due to the mingling of their scents reaching my nose, and theirs was probably due to the sourness of my own.
I could fake a smile, but I couldn’t fake biology.
Glancing down to where my family was sitting, I saw Romey’s scowl as he watched the wedding ceremony begin.
My gaze drifted over and with a jolt I realized that the woman Elio had been speaking to was sitting next to Alessandro Amante.
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.
