Page 129 of The Darkness is Calling

I swear Yaroslav was born to be the most nagging brother alive.

I sigh and whisper to the woman in front of me,

“We’ll continue later.”

“I’m going to kill you!” I hear another voice behind me, far angrier, and I turn slowly toward Oliver Prescott, future Lord.

Future corpse.

Yes, yes, we will get there too.

For now, though, he is very red in the face.

“You’re the one with a gun pressed to your temple, you bloody idiot,” I tell him in an impeccable British accent that hides my origins.

“Do not think you’re going to get away with this so easily?” He keeps raging, but I ignore him.

I wrap one arm around my bride’s waist, pulling her against me, and looking across the room. Meanwhile, I extend my other arm, the gun almost touching Oliver’s forehead.

I am surprised he’s not crying, considering there are two weapons aimed at his head. Mine, and Yaroslav’s, who doesn’t loosen his powerful grip on him.

Unfortunately for Oliver, I have other plans when it comes to him.

“I want someone to officiate a marriage, or I blow his brains out,” I say loudly, stirring a wave of panic.

I feel Katya’s whole body turn rigid, but her gaze drops toward Oksana, her friend, who is now crouched on the floor, following orders like everyone else.

Meanwhile, Mikhail remains frozen in his place on the bench, pretending to be surprised – just like everyone else – by this unpleasant situation.

Luckily, no one here knows his true nature, or how quickly he would have pulled out the gun he has hidden somewhere under his jacket and fired at anyone who threatened his little sister’s life.

But Mikhail is the only guest who supported my plan from the moment I told him, and he is ready to intervene if things get even more out of hand than I expect.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. With this many people in here, we can surely find one priest. Alive. Now, whether you want to witness a wedding or a massacre is entirely your problem.”

The sobs around us intensify, but a man past sixty slowly rises from his seat. Luck is smiling on me because he is already dressed in priestly robes.

“I can,” he says, his voice trembling.

“If you are kind, we are all waiting for you here,” I tell him, lowering my gun.

His gaze darts to the former priest’s corpse, still stretched out at my feet.

“Keep it short, and I promise nothing will happen to you.”

He quickens his steps a little, and when he reaches us, he asks, more frightened by the second. “Who is getting married?”

I pull my bloodstained bride closer. “The two of us.”

That sparks an explosive reaction from my beautiful bride.

“Have you completely lost your mind?”

I bring my face close to hers again.

“I have never been more lucid, Ekaterina,” I murmur against her skin, calm but firm. “And if you want all these people to walk out of here alive, you would be wise not to complicate this situation any further.”

“I hate you,” she hisses with anger.