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Hey, There’s Fur In My Wedding Cake
The last thing Russell wants to do is go back to the home that his childhood Wolf pack exiled him from. Yet, like it or not, that’s where Russell’s sorry ass is going. The fact that he’s doing so in order to attend a wedding between his old Alpha and a feline shifter only make it more aggravating. Just when Russell least expects it, a most welcome diversion comes, via way a cute, sexy Lynx shifter named Dalton.
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Hey, There’s Fur In My Wedding Cake
Copyright © 2011 Stephani Hecht
Cover art by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Hey, There’s Fur In My Wedding Cake
By
Stephani Hecht
Fuck, the fates must really have a major beef against him. Either that or he’d pissed off Mother Karma and she was giving him a swift kick in the ass.
How else could Russell explain how his ass had wound up at what was essentially a wedding between a cat and a dog? Okay to be fair, the groom was really a Wolf and his bride a Jaguar. And they were both shifters, so they were human most of the time, but seriously…a Fido marrying a Fluffy? That just seemed wrong on so many levels.
True, it’d already been done. The bride and groom’s brothers had officially become mates not too long ago. But then again, they hadn’t made this big of a deal over it. Of course, that was probably because the present groom was a jerk who lived to be the center of attention.
Russell let out a long-suffering sigh as he surveyed the scene in front of him. Actually, colossal cluster fuck would be a better term.
The large meeting hall that stood in the heart of the building housing his former pack was packed full. Not with just Wolves either. Everywhere he turned, he encountered a different breed of feline. Lions and tigers and cheetahs—oh, my! There were even a small scattering of some other breeds, too, a couple Hawks were present as well as a Fox and…damn…a Black Widow shifter. Wow, he thought that particular type of spider was near extinct, since they had the nasty habit of always turning on each other.
Damn, this little event was turning out to be a documentary from Animal Planet gone bad. It was so much that Russell almost turned around and walked out. Almost. Then he thought about his cousin, Ranger and all thoughts of fleeing evaporated.
Well, Ranger was really his second cousin, but Russell wasn’t about to dick around with technicalities. Especially, since Ranger was one of the few family members that Russell actually liked and respected.
He sure as hell didn’t like the Alpha of the pack. Chris, who was really his cousin, was the groom of the wedding about to take place. To Ranger, there was only two tags that really should be associated with the wolf and they were ass and hole.
While he’d missed the actually marriage ceremony, Russell forced himself to come to the reception. But only in hopes of mending fences between Ranger and Chris. Other than that, Russell wouldn’t have shown his face at all.
The hall was lavishly decorated with so many bows, flowers and taffeta that it looked like a wedding planner had exploded. Not that Russell expected anything less. After all, it wasn’t every day a Wolf Alpha married the sister of the leader from the local feline coalition. There hadn’t been a royal wedding this big since Will and Kate.
There was just as much security at this one, too. Everywhere Russell looked, he saw armed guards—both feline and Wolf. His hand strayed to his side, to where he usually kept his own weapon, but all he encountered was blank space. While the guards may be packing, the invites had clearly stated that all guests were to show up gunless and knifeless. The lack of the weapon made Russell feel naked and vulnerable.
The groom finally spotted Russell. Giving what he hoped was a hearty wave, Russell fought to keep the disdain from his face. It was darn hard work. The man just screamed arrogance from his tall stature to his muscular build and his almost too ruggedly good looks. Today that badass had taken a bit of a more formal edge to it since he wore a black tux and styled his russet hair perfectly, but Russell could still see the egotism lurking under the layers of refinement.
While Russell always kept his own brown hair carefully neat and clipped short and he never went anywhere without one of his expensively tailored suites on, he always made a point of never coming off as too conceited. At least he hoped so. He’d rather jump from the top of the Chrysler building than come off as a carbon copy of his former Alpha. It’s just that after Russell worked so hard to earn his nice clothes, he was going to show them off.
“Chris.” Russell nodded once the groom who was in front of him, but made no move to lower his gaze in a show of submission.
A flicker of annoyance went through Chris’s eyes before he gave a tight-lipped smile. “I didn’t think you’d show.”
“I didn’t think you’d invite me.”
Chris arched a brow. “Why shouldn’t I?”
Russell tilted his head to the side. “Ah…because I was exiled from the pack.”
“That was my father’s doing. Not mine. As far as I’m concerned, once he died, you were once more welcome back.”
“Really?” Russell didn’t even bother hiding the disbelief in his tone.
“Of, course. We’re kin after all. And unlike my father, that means something to me.”
“True, but not many would want to claim me, given my current profession.”
A smirk came over Chris’s face. “Profession? Is that what criminals are called nowadays?”
Hurt sliced through Russell, but he’d die before he showed it. Instead, he forced himself to give an impassive shrug. “I did what I had to in order to survive after your father threw me out of the pack. If I so happened to make millions off it, so be it.”
“Let’s not be coy, Russell. Everybody knows you were a crook even before Dad tossed you.”
Now anger mixed in with the pain as Russell wondered just how much the now deceased former Alpha had smeared his good name. Good name? Well, isn’t that rich. Because deep down, you know you’re no good, a nasty voice chanted in his head.
That still didn’t mean that Russell had to take the lies standing down. “Look, I may be a crook now, but that wasn’t always the case and that sure as hell wasn’t why your father exiled me.”
No, it’d been because Russell had been gay that the Wolves had turned their backs on him. It’d been the same way with Ranger, too. It wasn’t until Chris’s own brother, Dean, came out that the pack suddenly became tolerant.
“I had nothing to do with that. I never wanted any harm to come to you or Ranger,” Chris protested.
“Maybe not, but you sure as hell didn’t do anything to stop it either.”
For a second, Russell thought Chris was going to argue that point, too. Then the Alpha turned to look at his bride and a look of shame crossed his strong face. “You’re right. I should have done more. If I had, then Ranger never would have been captured, Dean would have been able to claim his own mate sooner and you wouldn’t have had to become what you are now.”
Russell blinked a few times, resisting the urge to glance around to see if there were some flying pigs or ice skating demons. Chris actually admitting he was wrong? This had to be a first.
“Did Ranger come today?” Chris asked in a hopeful voice.
“No, he didn’t want to leave his mate behind and it’s too dangerous for Xavier to come out in public because he’s an Eagle shifter,” Russell replied in a much more subdued tone.
While he wasn’t exactly ready to become buddies with Chris, Ranger had to give the guy credit for taking a bite of humble pie. Plus, it wouldn’t do Ranger any good for Russell to keep taking swipes at Chris. While Russell couldn’t give a damn about the pack, he knew Ranger still missed it. If Russell could get Ranger and Chris to mend their bridges, then maybe Chris could come home, if only for a short visit.
“Do you think that maybe you can convince him to come another day? You know, so we can clear things between us?” Chris suggested, showing he was having the same thoughts.
“How about you go to him? He’s still living at the feline coalition so he’s easy enough to find.”
Chris let out a sigh. “Yeah, I can do that. I just hope that he’ll talk to me.”
“Would you blame him if he didn’t?” Russell challenged.
“No, I know I fucked up big time. I should have done so much more to protect him. I’m not proud of the kind of leader I was back then.”
Russell didn’t argue because quite frankly, Chris was right. Until his bride, Cassie, came into the picture and taught him how to be stronger, Chris had been a piss poor Alpha. Russell glanced over at Cassie, wondering how one person could change another so much. Sure, she was pretty enough with her long brown hair and sparkling amber eyes, but looks only went so far.
Call him jaded, but up until recently, Russell didn’t think that it was possibly for one to change, period. He always believed that jerks like Chris would forever remain jerks. Just like he thought that losers like him would always remain losers.
Despite Chris’s true love transformation, Russell didn’t have any aspirations that he’d follow suite any time soon. While plenty of guys liked to fuck him because he had wealth and power, none of them had truly cared for Russell. Not that he blamed them, he was a two-bit crook and nothing could ever change that.
Cassie glanced over in their direction and began to motion for her groom to join her. Chris shot Russell an apologetic grin. “Sorry, gotta go.”
Russell nodded before giving Cassie a wave. She scowled in turn. Not that Russell could blame her. The last time they met he’d made a big point of coming on to one of her younger brothers. While she may not have any issues with Russell being gay, since all her brothers were, too, they were all overprotective of each other. The last thing any of them would want is one of their own hooking up with a rogue Wolf.
Retreating to the buffet table, Russell looked for something to drink. A pang of regret went through him when he noted all they had was soda and punch. He knew he shouldn’t have expected anything different. While there were some forms of alcohol that could make shifters drunk, it was all illegal. All because some Alphas get prickly when homemade booze kills off members of their packs.
Resigning himself to a cup of sugary punch, Russell took a sip as he wondered how long he had to stay before he could bail without insulting Chris. While Russell may not be a member of the pack anymore, he didn’t want any more bad blood between them. Chris mainly stayed out of his way so he could run his business smoothly and Russell wanted to keep it that way.
“Wow, look at that cake,” a soft male voice exclaimed.
“Don’t you think that maybe it’s a bit too much?” Russell snarked, not even bothering to look over at who was talking to him. He was already in major danger of having a sugar overload. If he had to see another expression of dopey admiration from a coalition or pack member, Russell was going to lose it.
Instead, he eyed up the triple tower of cake. A pure monstrosity with pink and white icing, it was so huge it took up nearly one half of the large buffet table. Oh God, it even had a real operating fountain in the center. To make things worse, the cake was draped with tinkling white lights and a plastic wedding party. Russell didn’t know whether to eat the thing or blow it up to save everyone from its sheer tackiness.
“Why would it be too much? It’s not every day that you get married, so you may as well go all out. Besides, I think it’s romantic,” the speaker replied wistfully.
Romantic? Was this guy kidding him? Next, he’d be babbling about how he dreamed things would be on his own special day.
“I do think it would be better if they went with some other color than pink. At least that’s what I would do,” the guy said.
It didn’t exactly fulfill Russell’s prediction, but it was close enough. He gripped his drink tighter as he wished he was someplace else. Anywhere would do, just so long as he could get away from this reception and all these way-too-happy shifters and the former home that carried way too many bad memories.
“You have something against pink?” Russell took a deep drink of his overly sweet punch and had to repress a shudder.
“It’s just not Cassie. That gal has chesticals so big that I’m surprised she didn’t go with a blue and black theme. The other day I told her she was too small to handle a grenade launcher and she punched me in the nuts so hard, I sang soprano for nearly two hours.”
Stunned, Russell finally turned to look at the speaker and nearly choked on his punch. Not because of the outlandish statement, but because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen something so hot, so sexy and so damn cute. Since Russell got around that said a lot.
A couple inches shorter than Russell and about fifty pounds lighter, the shifter looked to be in his early twenties. The tall, lithe build marked the male as feline, although Russell wasn’t sure what type. He wore civilian clothes, consisting of a pair of high-end jeans and a button up red shirt. The sleeves rolled up to reveal thin arms. A rainbow, rope bracelet dangled on the man’s wrist.
The feline looked up from under the fringe of his dark bangs, an impish, tiny grin playing on his full lips. While his black hair was cut short, the front was left a bit longer so it flopped over his huge, almost innocent looking blue eyes.
“You know what? You’re right. The cake looks nice. In fact, there are a few things that look yummy here,” Russell drawled back.
Russell didn’t know what shocked him more, that he was using such a lame line or that he’d just popped off the word yummy. If the Wolves who worked under him only knew, they’d never let him live it down.
The feline grinned wider, the sweetest dimple making a brief appearance on his full cheeks. “You’re not talking about food, are you?”
“No, I’m not,” Russell confessed. He’d always been brutally honest, so why change?
“That has to rank in the top ten worst pickup lines used on me.” The man tilted his head to the side as his gaze swept up and down Russell.
“Do you have a lot of guys coming on to you?”
“About two or three a day. There aren’t too many Lynxes in our coalition so I’m sort of an oddity to them.”
Russell was willing to bet that it had to do with a lot more than the guy being an exotic breed. He could have been a common tomcat and men still would have been drawn to the sensual, yet sweet feline. Just as quickly as that thought occurred to Russell, a rush of jealously swept over him. The mere thought of anybody touching the man in front of him made Russell want to growl in protest.
“What’s your name?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even lest he scare away the feline.
�
��Dalton. What’s yours?”
“Russell.”
Dalton’s lips pursed in a knowing expression before he said, “Oh, I heard about you.”
The need to curse grew strong as Russell felt a bit of shame over who he was. “What exactly did you hear?”
“That you’re the one to go to if somebody needs guns, drugs or other junk.”
“I’ve never dealt drugs,” Russell pointed out quickly. “I’ve never touched the stuff.”
Something that may have been admiration flicked over Dalton’s eyes. “I also heard that you helped rescue Trevor and his friends when they were captured by slavers.”
“Are you close to Trevor?”
“Sure, he and his mate are letting me live with them.” Dalton’s eyes narrowed. “But it’s perfectly platonic, we’re not into each other, if you know what I mean.”
Amused by the Lynx’s sassy comment, Russell almost laughed. He forced himself to hold it in lest Dalton think he was being mocked.
“So, does that mean you’re into somebody else?”
An endearing flush came over Dalton’s cheeks as he shook his head, his hair flopping even more into his eyes. “Nah, nobody has really done anything for me.”
Russell bit his bottom lip to keep from smiling as relief flooded through him at the thought of the young Lynx being unclaimed. “Why not?”
Dalton tilted his face up, his gaze growing a bit darker, even as the blush spread further over his face. “Because none of them have been a tall wolf with brown hair and eyes.”
Arousal shot through Ranger, his Wolf growling its own approval. Setting down the cup, Russell curled his hands into loose fists. The urge to grab Dalton and drag him into an empty room so they could have their own private celebration nearly made Russell lose control of his emotions.
“Lucky you, there are plenty of Wolves here who fit that description,” Russell replied in a deceptively mild tone. Inside the word mine! Mine! Mine! Beat in time with his heart.
Dalton reached out and trailed a finger down the center of Russell’s chest. “True, but there’s only one Wolf who interests me.”
Russell’s body burned from Dalton’s brief caress. “And who is that?”
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