by Jessie Lane
The man shrieked in horror when he figured out he was literally being covered in shit and ran away, slipping and sliding down Borys’s walkway on the fertilizer that now coated him from head to toe.
When the man reached the street where his car was parked, Borys yelled out to him, “Remember, it’s Borys with a Y, asshole. Don’t ever come back!”
Slamming his front door, Borys stalked back to the kitchen where his mate was waiting for him, now sitting on top of the kitchen island. Once he got there, she glanced over at him, took one look at the aggravated look on his face, and arched an eyebrow.
“Is everything okay? You roared loud enough for my relatives to hear you in Russia.”
Closing the space between them, he ran his hands over her bare legs, pushing them apart so he could step between them. “Nothing for you to worry your pretty, little head about, cookie. Just had to get rid of some shit. Now, where were we?”
The sound of his mate’s laughter as he started to playfully nip and bite down her neck was sweeter than any dessert his mother had ever made him. It seemed as though he had a sweet tooth for his mate, and that was A-okay with him.
Chapter Twelve
One month later…
Misha used a box cutter to open one of the twenty boxes the delivery man had just dropped off at her new house. She was officially moving in with Borys. Her family back in Russia had packed up her things and shipped them to her here. Although, she would admit that it hadn’t been all that willingly.
No, the Vasiliev tigers had hissed, growled, and yowled over the many phone calls they had made her endure as they tried to talk her into coming back to the “homeland.” It would be an understatement to say that her adopted family was having a hard time accepting the fact that Misha had met her fated mate an ocean and continent away.
They had promised to take her into Moscow to find another bear if that was what she wanted. She had told them no. Then they promised her a whole harem of male bears if she would come home. Misha had no idea exactly how those crazy cats thought they could hold a harem of bears captive for her, but she was also smart enough not to ask. Instead, she had just given them the answer of no again.
After more insane promises of a castle for a house, a small army of bear mates, all the honeyed salmon she could eat, and other ridiculous things, she had hung up on them and decided she would need some help getting her things. Therefore, she had called her Aunt Arina over to Borys’s house and had begged her for help.
Her aunt hadn’t given in to her pleas easily. While she would now admit that she thought Borys was “not such a Boo-Boo of a bear,” she still was not happy that Misha would not go back to Russia. She was especially not happy about Misha “abandoning her to deal with that super Boo-Boo Paxton.” Misha tried to defend herself by saying she had not abandoned Arina. Borys had even offered her the chance to stay with them at his house, but Arina had told them she would rather stay at the bed and breakfast than listen to them making their “disturbing bear love.”
It took approximately one hour of giving Arina sad looks while bribing her with one of the many homemade sweets she had in the kitchen, but Misha finally got her aunt to call their overly paranoid yet extremely loving family in Russia to accept the truth.
Misha had two homes now. One with Borys, and one in Russia with the tigers.
Looking over at her mate, who was helping her unpack the many boxes, Misha lifted one of the traditional wooden nesting dolls she had been given one year for her birthday and showed it to Borys.
“Where should I put this, love?”
He looked over at the doll in her hand, and his eyes bugged out. “What the fuck is that, woman?”
Misha stifled her laugh and shook the tiger-decorated doll at him. “This is a matryoshka doll. My family gave me one for my birthday every year for five years straight when I was a little girl.”
“And they’re all painted as tigers, I’m guessing?” he asked her warily.
She nodded back enthusiastically. “Yes! They were specially made just for me. This one is painted to represent my adopted great-grandmother. I also have ones for Arina, my favorite uncle, a cousin, and Arina’s mother. Isn’t it adorable?” Misha knew it was downright cruel to figuratively poke at her bear this way, but she just couldn’t help herself. Her mate was so cute when he got himself all wound up.
Looking around his house, he then turned back to her and asked, “Our whole house is not going to be decorated in tigers, is it, cookie? I know you love them all, but a man can only take so many stripes in his den.”
She shook her head. “Noooo. Not the whole house, Borys. I would never do that to you.”
A relieved smile spread across his face. “Good. You can put that anywhere you want, sweetheart. This is your home now, too, and I want you to be happy in it.”
Misha adored the man who bent over backward, day in and day out, to make her comfortable in his home, but she just couldn’t resist poking at his bear one more time.
“Thank you, Borys!” Jumping up from her spot, she walked over to the bookshelf in the living room and placed the doll on an empty spot on one of the shelves. Then, looking back at her mate, she caught him staring at her and blew him an air kiss.
“Don’t you worry, my big, bad bear; I won’t decorate the whole house in tiger stripes … just half of it! I’ve even got a tiger striped blanket to drape over the couch!”
Misha winked at him when he roared in irritation at her. Once he jumped up and lunged for her, she ran for the bedroom, laughing the entire way, hoping that once Borys “caught” her there, he would show her exactly how he thought bears did everything better again.
She couldn’t seem to get enough of his attempts to prove that to her. Maybe one day, twenty years from now, she might admit to him that she now believed bears really did do it better.
Chapter Thirteen
Two months later…
“Are you sure you want to do this, little cub?”
Misha smiled at her aunt who sat sulking in the corner. Picking up her blush brush, she swirled it over her cheeks one last time to make sure her makeup was perfect on her big day.
“Of course I’m sure, Aunt Arina. Why wouldn’t I be?”
The tigress stomped her foot and yowled loudly. “Because blas-of-the-theme it be!”
Somehow, Misha managed not to laugh at Arina’s continued abuse of the English language.
“Do you mean blasphemy?”
Pointing a finger at her, Arina shouted, “Yes! This is what I say.”
Getting up from her vanity chair, Misha walked over to kneel in front of the woman who had raised her as her own. Taking Arina’s hands in hers, she told her exactly how she felt.
“I am sure I want to marry Borys. I know it’s not traditional for our kind, but it means a lot to him for some reason. And I want to make him as happy as he has made me.”
“But your last name will change to Anderson,” Arina whined like a little girl.
Misha brought Arina’s hands up to her mouth and gave them a kiss of affection. “Listen to me closely, because I want you to hear the truth in my words. I will always be your cub, and you will always be my mother. Just like I will always be a Vasiliev, even though I am not a tiger. It does not matter that my last name will be Anderson, because all of you will always be my family. You mean the world to me.”
Arina’s eyes glistened with tears that slowly started to run down her face. She pulled her hands out of Misha’s and ever so lightly grasped Misha’s face. “This is right, little cub. Always, you will be mine. I love you, little bear.”
Leaning forward to embrace her aunt, Misha relayed the sentiment. “I love you, too, Aunt Arina.”
The two women hugged silently for a few moments until someone knocked on the door, startling Arina and causing her to jump in the chair and hiss as Paxton’s voice came from the other side.
“It’s time, ladies.”
Arina shouted back, “Go away, Baloo! We will come ou
t when we want to.”
“I told you not to call me that anymore, woman,” the bear growled back.
Her aunt just sniffed in disdain. “Yes, and I keep telling you not to follow me around like stray puppy, yet here you are. Shoo! Shoo now!”
Misha silently laughed as she heard a frustrated growl then heavy stomping heading away from the door.
Grabbing her aunt by the hand, she pulled her up to stand. “Are you ready to walk me down the aisle, Aunt Arina?”
Arina gave another disdainful sniff that only a feline could pull off. “I guess I am. But you remember, if you change your mind, we can haul of the ass out those doors.”
She smiled and picked up her bouquet. “I promise not to forget that we can haul ass.”
Holding hands, the two women walked out of the room and down the hallway that would lead them to the front of the church. Misha could already hear the piano music coming from inside the main room where Borys was waiting for her. It started to flow into the “Wedding March” as she locked her arm with her aunt’s. Then the two main doors were opened for them by a couple of her new Grayslake clan members.
She stepped over the threshold and into the room, hearing soft, appreciative gasps from the crowd as they caught sight of her in an ivory dress made of satin and lace. She could see the carefully decorated church pews filled with other clan members such as the Itan and the Itana, plus her family from Russia. All of it seemed to melt away, though, as she took that first step toward Borys.
He was standing at the front, near the pastor, dressed in a black tuxedo with an ivory tie and vest. His smile was breathtaking.
She hadn’t known it was possible for a man to be beautiful, but in that moment, he was to her. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
Misha kept her steps measured as she heard the song continue, thinking of the lyrics in her head and daydreaming what it would be like to have a thousand years with her mate. Truly, she didn’t need a thousand, just all the ones for the rest of their lives were enough for her.
In the three months since meeting Borys, he had changed her entire world. She had gone from feeling a bit like an outsider to a person who knew just how lucky and loved she was by both her mate, her adopted tiger family, and her new bear family.
Misha’s entire life was not only complete, but overflowing with so much love for the people around her that she knew now more than ever that family was not always those you were related to by blood, but the people who made your life a joy. It was the reason she had insisted on Arina walking her down the aisle.
Did part of Misha wish her biological parents could be here today? Of course, and perhaps they were there in spirit, but her day was not lacking love or family. The woman who loved her unconditionally was escorting her to the man who loved her unconditionally now, too. And the closer they got to Borys, the bigger his smile became.
Who knew that was even possible?
As she came to a stop in front of the pastor and her husband-to-be, Misha turned to Arina and gave her another heartfelt hug and kiss on the cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.
Arina sobbed quietly and whispered back, “I love you, too, my little медве́дь.”
For the first time in her life, she heard the Russian name for bear and didn’t feel left out somehow. No, this time, all she felt was the love her aunt gave her in her voice as she said it.
Pulling away and walking up to stand beside the man she loved, her mate, Misha thanked whoever it was who had set her on this path in life.
She had been blessed beyond measure, even if she was a bear raised by tigers who was marrying her one time, sort of, kinda, but not quite, American cousin.
Chapter Fourteen
One month later…
Borys was standing in a room full of tigers who were all staring at him. Silently staring. Maybe even accusingly staring. No matter what the motivation behind their actions, he really needed them to stop. They were creeping him the fuck out.
His mate patted his arm to get his attention. “Borys, this is Babushka Anastasia. Babushka means grandmother,” she whispered quietly. “She’s the oldest living Vasiliev tiger in pride history, at one hundred and three years old. I wanted you to meet her because she’s been like a great-grandmother to me.”
Borys looked down at the old woman who stood almost two feet shorter than him with a mean look on her face. Not that he would say it out loud, but she looked older than a hundred and three. Still, he was happy to be here in Russia, meeting his mate’s family.
Holding his hand out to her, he greeted her cheerfully, “Hello, Babushka Anastasia. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Borys.”
The old woman took his hand in a surprisingly strong grip then pointed with her free hand over to a couch for them to sit. However, instead of Borys doing the gentlemanly thing and leading Anastasia to the couch, she led him to the couch. He couldn’t help admiring the tough, old broad.
Once they were settled on the couch, with Misha sitting on a chair near them, Borys looked over at his mate for direction since the old woman wasn’t saying anything, just staring at him like all the others.
Misha waved her hand in a “go ahead and talk” motion. He was so going to spank her for that later on.
Turning back to the old woman, he pasted another smile on his face while he racked his brain for something to say. What the hell did he know about Russia? They liked vodka, those little nesting dolls, and they had that royal family who had been assassinated so many years ago. Which reminded him …
“Isn’t Anastasia the name of the Russian royal princess who disappeared?”
The old woman nodded but still remained silent.
Good Lord! What the hell did he have to do to get someone to talk around here?
He tried to engage her again. “You wouldn’t happen to be the missing princess, would you?”
She shook her head. “Nyet.”
Borys was sort of at a loss when all he got back was the one-word answer followed by more uncomfortable staring. If he didn’t figure out a way to make these tigers talk soon, his bear was going to freak out and go on a rampage.
He tried another question. “Well, how is your day going? Are you having a good day today since Misha is back for a visit?”
What followed next was an unholy terror of torture.
“I’m glad you asked, bear!” The old woman clapped her hands in front of her then started ranting in heavily-accented English. “Glad Misha is home, but then, it’s fault of yours that she is away. My day is shit, because our little cub will leave us again, because of you. If bad enough, that wasn’t, my bladder has been acting up. Urge to pee, I have a hundred times a day, like very pregnant woman about to give birth. Know do you, what it is like, to have to pee that many times a day?”
Borys opened his mouth to say something—what, he wasn’t sure—perhaps his apologies that she had an overactive bladder. However, the old windbag just kept going.
“And oy! My back! Hurts so, it does. You think any of my children or grandchildren take their Babushka to get massage to feel better? No! Ungrateful, they all are! How many cubs I carry in my belly when younger I was, then push them out of my woman parts, but ten! Ten ungrateful cubs who no take their poor mother to get massage to make back feel better.”
Borys tried not to turn green at the thought of having ten children, or this woman pushing out said ten children. He almost failed. Still, the old bat kept going.
Smacking him on the arm, she shouted, “And this human president we have! Vladimir Putin. He says he wrestled with real bear with two hands! You believe that, Borys? That man wouldn’t know real bear if it chased him up tree. Or was it you who wrestled with him and lost?”
Borys’s jaw dropped as he shook his head. Looking over at his mate, he found Misha laughing at him behind her hand. He pleaded with his eyes for her to help him escape, but the infuriating woman just sat there laughing at him.
Anastasia slapped him again to get his
attention.
“Fine, fine, you no wrestle president. Back to my day now. My coffee was cold this morning, my hunk of deer meat too lean, my clothes too hot … Have I mentioned my ungrateful ten children?”
Borys nodded, desperately searching for a polite way to escape and run for his life, when his cookie interrupted Anastasia.
“Babushka, I’m going to help the others in the kitchen.”
He started to get up, thinking his mate was going to rescue him and take him with her, but no. No, that woman put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down, all while giving him a saccharine smile.
“You stay here and talk to Babushka, Borys. I’ll see you in a little while.”
Betrayed! He wanted to scream.
Borys begged Misha with his eyes as he watched her walk out of the room, shoulders shaking as she laughed. He watched the sway of her hips and ass and thought of how much he was going to paddle it later for abandoning him like this when, this time, he got a slap upside his head.
“Oy, bear! Hear me, you are? I said I keep you company while Misha does women things. So, my coffee was too cold, my hunk of deer meat too lean, my clothes too hot, my ten children are ungrateful little brats, the snow is too high this time of year, my vodka not strong enough last night … Have I mentioned my ten ungrateful children?”
~~~
Three hours later, Borys tracked down his mate who was laughing away with a bunch of women in a kitchen.
“That was cruel.”
“What?” she asked, trying to look innocent while the others cackled around them.
“You could have warned me!” Borys growled back.
Deciding to play dumb, she had the nerve to ask, “Warn you about what, my love?”
Losing all of his control and patience, he opened his mouth wide to roar in frustration, but he got his mate’s hand over the mouth, stopping him.
“Not in here, bear. You do not really want to startle a house full of tigers. It would be a catastrophe.”