by Tara Lain
Tension radiated from her tall, slender body. “Hello.”
He tried to smile and held up the resume. “I was just reading about you.”
She nodded. “Likewise.” She didn’t move from the spot two steps into the room that she’d reached when she entered.
“Would you like to sit down?” He motioned toward the chairs opposite the couch.
She nodded curtly, walked over to the chair, folded her black skirt under a gently rounded butt, and sat. Interesting what her mother’s features looked like on a powerful creature. Refined but still bold—wide gray eyes, a stronger jaw than Trixie’s, a nicely shaped mouth that she’d compressed into a taut line.
He cocked his head. “I’m gathering that you didn’t have any more say in this wedding than I did.”
She expelled breath in a hiss. “No, dammit. And I don’t like one thing about it.” Her eyes flew up to his. “Sorry. That came out wrong. You’re obviously an accomplished male. I just didn’t plan on an arranged marriage throwing my whole damned life into turmoil. My father is usually more considerate of my wishes.” She crossed her arms tightly over small breasts.
He nodded. “I can see why they thought it up.”
She sighed. “Yes, my father and mother had an arranged marriage, and they think highly of the institution.”
“We’re both alphanta.”
Her face crumbled a little until she pulled it back into her firm mask. “Yes, much is the pity.”
“You don’t want to be alpha female?”
She straightened her spine. “Only if I can run my own pack and marry whomever I choose.”
She was tightly contained, but he could smell the sadness. “And is there someone you’d choose?”
Just a tiny intake of breath came before the tears that pushed out of her wide eyes. “Why discuss fantasyland?” She swiped at her wet cheeks. “But I must ask if the rumors about you are true.”
“Yes.” What else could he say?
She nodded. “I see.”
“It’s been suggested that we can make our own liaisons once we’re officially wed and the alliance is sealed.” He shrugged.
A furrow popped out between her brows. “Do you enjoy living a lie?”
He stared at her and gritted his teeth. “I don’t enjoy any of this charade. I’m a gay man and, just like you, would like to live out my life with someone I could love and make love to. Maybe even find a mate. I’m not a political animal.” He laughed at his own joke, but it sounded harsh. “I prefer life to be honest and straightforward. Perhaps you can imagine how seldom I get to do that.”
Her eyes widened and tears glistened again.
He took a breath.
“I understand the importance of this alliance. If I was in my father’s shoes, or your father’s for that matter, I’m not sure what I’d do.” That was true. How ironic that he should be sitting here defending his father’s position. Crap on all pack animals, himself included. He sighed. “I haven’t found a mate. Apparently, neither have you. We’re ripe for political machinations. And, as my father said, it’s done.”
A muscle jumped in her jaw. “You’re not going to fight them?”
Was he? If she wanted to, would he? If Eliazer Pack took two regions of their territory, they’d have to go to war to keep the rest. Their wolves needed sustenance, places to work, regions to hunt. Cole felt that need in his soul. “I’m pack, Analiese. I’ll fight them if you can show me another way to protect the pack.”
She shook her head wildly. “You protect them even though they deny you? Won’t let you be who you are?”
He sighed. “Even though.” He looked at her. “Don’t you feel it too? You’re alphanta. Isn’t pack blood your blood?”
She put her face in her hands and cried.
He stood and walked over to her. No touching. She wouldn’t like that. “I’m so sorry. I wish we could think of another way.”
She looked up, tearstained. “There has to be.”
“We’re the only offspring of the pack alphas. The alliance needs a marriage seal. Like your parents.”
Her eyes got wide.
The door opened and Merced Marketo came in. “The reception is beginning.” He looked at his daughter’s ravaged face and frowned. “Enough of this, Analiese. Get yourself together.” He extended his hand to Cole. “Come along, son. Say hello to your guests while Analiese fixes her makeup.” He gave her a look that would have frozen fire and escorted Cole out the door.
Chapter Three
Wham. The noise, energy, and heat of the crowd in the meeting hall hit Cole like a wall. How could he be a werewolf who loved pack but hated crowds? He did okay at the club because he knew no one expected him to talk or lead. Here, it was different. Shit, he hated being the center of attention.
Pack members smiled, patted, stuck out their hands. Heat rose up his neck until his face felt as shiny as his hair. He wished he could be as comfortable and easygoing as his father, but no such luck.
Marketo wolves stared at him with what looked like interest and maybe a little derision, since most of them knew the rumors about his sexual orientation. But he didn’t smell any hostility. No, this alliance helped everyone. No member of either pack would vote against it. Nobody was coming to save him.
Marketo kept a hand on his arm and led him through the crush. The big, open space of the hall had been set up with tables and chairs, plus a bar and huge buffet table at opposite ends. Werewolves liked to eat. Everything had been decorated with blue and red, the colors of the two packs. It looked more like a political rally than a betrothal celebration. Appropriate.
They headed toward a table at one end of the room. Though it might be called a “main” table, it wasn’t raised because no matter how powerful the alphas were, werewolves were egalitarian. This was the table for the families. Landon and Crystal were already there, along with Trixie Marketo and a big male who must have been Marketo’s second and—Cole stopped walking, which halted Marketo’s forward motion like a boat anchor.
Sitting at the table talking to Landon was the male Cole had seen at the club, the one that smelled like cat. And somehow he managed to be even more beautiful than he was the previous night. “Who’s that?”
Marketo looked up at him, then glanced at the table. “That’s my son, Analiese’s half brother.”
“He smells like a panther.”
Marketo frowned. “How do you know that?”
“I saw him at the club last night and, since he looks so different, I smelled him.’
Marketo laughed. “So your reputed sense of smell isn’t a myth.”
“How did he happen?” Cole took a breath. “Sorry, that came out rude.” He dragged his eyes away from the beautiful guy and looked at Marketo. “How do you happen to have a son who’s half panther?”
“My mate was panther.” Pain lingered in his eyes.
“What the hell?” Cole stared at the big man.
He frowned. “I’ve already explained this to your parents, but I respect you and will repeat the story. I met her when I was very young. She was a panther domme, the equivalent of our alpha.” He looked around and moved a few steps from some pack members nearby. Clearly, he didn’t share this story with many people. “Of course, she was solitary, as panthers are. For some reason known only to the almighty powers, I recognized her as my mate. Panthers don’t take mating seriously like we do, but she accepted me. Perhaps because we were mated, we were able to produce a child. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if it’s happened before or since, but it happened to me. Birthing the child was too much for her, and she died.”
Cole cringed at the fresh hurt in Merced’s face. “I’m so sorry. But why haven’t we heard about him before? Our territories adjoin. Surely, something so extraordinary would get out.”
Marketo looked down at his hands. “Since he’s always identified as a panther, I was afraid of how he’d be accepted, so I sent him away to school very early. Since he’s grown,
he’s, uh, lived alone. He’s hardly been with the pack.” His face softened. “I married my Trixie in an alliance arrangement twenty years ago. She and I have visited my son many times.” He took Cole’s arm again. “Come and meet him.”
Cole breathed in. Even from half a room away, he could pick up the sharp smell of cat. Nobody else seemed to notice or be bothered by it. Of course, probably only the alphas knew what it was. Cat odor would be so unfamiliar in human form that few of the pack would know how to interpret it. They’d assume the guy was a wolf who smelled funny.
A deep breath brought that acrid tinge into his nose again. He wasn’t exactly bothered. More like hot and bothered. Something about that pungent odor seemed to slip under his skin and race straight to his cock. Weird. Why would he be attracted to cat?
He looked toward the table as he followed Marketo. Of course, the guy was plain beautiful, so maybe that was the attraction. Cole always liked the prettier humans when he looked for sex partners, and in a black suit and white shirt open at the neck, this creature was a work of art. But damn, the closer Cole got to the table, the more his cock turned into a heat-seeking device. He pulled his suit jacket closed with his free hand.
The cat was talking to Landon, but as they got ten feet away, his head turned. Strange gold eyes stared at Cole from under thick black lashes—half-suspicious, half-coy. How like a cat. He raised his head and sat up straight, facing front. When they got an arm’s length away, the guy stood. His eyes never left Cole.
Marketo extended an arm. “Paris, may I present the alphanta of the Harker pack, Cole. Cole, this is my son, Paris.”
The guy just stared at him for a moment. Cole’s heart beat so hard it felt like it would escape his chest. Paris. A beautiful place to visit.
The cat extended a slender hand.
The gesture was so feminine that Cole almost did the fingertip grip he might have given a woman, but instead he grasped the hand, swallowing it in his big paw. Heat ripped up his arm, attacked his heart, and shot down into his balls like lightning. He grabbed his hand back like he’d laid it on a stove.
Paris smiled. Smug was the word that came to mind. “How lovely to meet you.”
Cole’s mouth fell open and he had to use will to snap it shut. God, that voice. Like chocolate melted in a pot and poured over strawberries. Soft, a little breathy, and the perfect balance between low and high. Cole wanted to curl in a ball and have the cat read him a story. A very sexy story.
Marketo smiled. “Paris lives in New York, but wanted to participate in his sister’s betrothal and wedding, so he’ll be here a few days. I hope you two will get acquainted.”
The guy laughed, every note a symphony. “It only took the tiniest coercion to wile me out of my ivory tower.” He glanced at his father.
Bet there’s a story there. Cole looked at those golden eyes and then quickly glanced back at Marketo. No way was he going to tell Marketo that he and Paris getting acquainted was a very bad idea.
Landon leaned over the table. “Come sit, son.”
Mrs. Marketo jumped up, staring past Cole. “Oh, darling, good, you’re here.”
Cole followed her line of sight and saw Analiese walking toward them. Her eyes were still puffy and she looked strained, but she put on a small smile for her mother.
Paris moved away from the chair he’d been occupying next to Landon, and walked to the other side of the table. Goose bumps rose on Cole’s arms watching the guy move. Panther was right. Shit!
Two chairs were empty at the center of the table. Oh no, talk about on stage. He took a deep breath, smiled, and stepped back to offer Analiese his arm. She gave him a hard look for a second, then seemed to decide he meant nothing by the offer, smiled tightly, and took his arm. God, was even a simple gesture going to be war?
He led her around the table to the open seats that put him next to his father and her next to Marketo. The alphas were beside their wives. Cole glanced down the table. The cat named Paris sat beside his stepmother.
He helped Analiese into her chair and leaned down. “Can I make a plate of food for you?”
A crease appeared between her fair eyebrows. “I can get it myself.”
He sighed as quietly as he could. “I know. I just thought you might like to avoid the crowd.”
Again, he got that direct stare. Assessing. “Thank you. That’s very nice.”
“What do you particularly like? I guess I better find out.” He smiled.
She frowned, then nodded. Lighten up, lady. “I like roast beef quite well.”
“Any other kinds of meat?”
“Turkey.”
“Great.”
He moved back around the table the opposite way from the cat and took a breath before plunging into the crowd. If it had just been for him, he would have waited for the enthusiastic crush at the food table to die down.
He got to the end of the long line. The wolves around him turned and smiled. One male from Marketo pack, who was standing with a pretty female, pointed at the table. “Nice spread. We can have weddings every week if we get food this good.” He laughed.
Cole nodded. What should he say? That he didn’t even want to have one wedding? He didn’t mind chatting with one or two people, but God, he hated being the subject of everybody’s conversation.
A firm hand gripped his forearm. He turned and felt his breath stop.
Paris stood beside him. “I had a friend hold a place in line for us.” That chocolate voice melted down Cole’s spine. Paris looked at the pack members around Cole. “Will you forgive me if I steal him away? He needs to be back with his intended quickly.” He winked and two of the female wolves giggled. He pulled on Cole’s arm. “Come.”
Man, if the guy had just said jump off a building in that voice, he probably would have done it. He followed as Paris led him to the head of the line. A beautiful, young female Marketo wolf stood there staring at Paris as if she’d just seen an angel. Paris kissed her cheek. “Thank you so much, darling.” Melted wolf. The girl about fainted. It was easy to understand why. Paris stepped in front of her and pulled Cole in front of him.
Cole cleared his throat. “Thank you.”
Paris smiled just a little. “You didn’t appear to relish the crowds. Odd for a werewolf, but I sympathize.”
“I’m a little, uh, crowd averse.”
“Tell me about it.” And this time the smile had teeth. Straight, white, with slightly prominent canines. Or in this case, felines. Oh shit, what would a bite from those fangs feel like?
Cole grabbed two plates and began to pile on food. Roast beef, she said, right? Having that cat next to him was giving him a very different kind of appetite and that was not good.
“Don’t forget the turkey.”
Cole looked at him.
The golden eyes glittered. “My sister loves turkey.”
“Oh yes.”
Cole speared a big slice of white meat, then added some vegetables and rice.
He glanced over at Paris, who chose only the rarest cuts of beef and nothing else.
“Not eating your veggies. Uh-uh.” Cole smiled. It was flirtatious, but he couldn’t seem to stop.
“I’m more of a carnivore than you, wolf.” He smiled again, but it looked more like he was baring his teeth. His eyes started at Cole’s feet and slowly traveled up. “I like my meat raw.”
Damn. He forgot how to breathe.
Paris just stared into Cole’s eyes and never dropped his gaze. Cole gave in first and looked at the floor. Was it hot in here?
He grabbed some flatware and napkins, balanced the two plates, and headed back to the table, leaving Paris to finish his carnivorous activities with others. That feline was full-on dangerous.
He served Analiese, sat, and fell on his food, a good excuse for not talking. People came to the table to wish them well. He smiled, nodded, and chewed. Werewolves understood hunger.
Finally, he’d stuffed all the protein he could get down his throat, and it was time for the offi
cial announcements and crap. Could they just do this part without him?
The alphas walked to the middle of the room, and all the pack members turned their chairs toward them.
Landon smiled. “Since this is Harker Pack Hall, allow me to speak first and say how honored we are to have Pack Marketo with us here. I don’t have to tell any of you how valuable an alliance between our packs can be to all concerned, and sealing that alliance with a marriage is the wolf way. We’re all deeply moved that Pack Leader Merced and his beautiful wife, Trixie, would entrust their lovely and accomplished daughter to our son in marriage.”
God, he was good. Landon handled that crowd like each pack member was a personal friend. Who wouldn’t love him? Cole’s tongue got tight. Mouth claustrophobia.
Landon talked a little more, then turned over the floor to Marketo.
The alpha stepped to the center of the floor. “Thank you, and welcome Pack Harker and Pack Marketo.” He had a different style. A bit more formal, gruff, but totally in command. As he talked, he asked that a stand be brought in with the legal betrothal documents.
Cole’s hands were sweating. Maybe he wouldn’t have to say anything. He let out a long breath. Fat chance. Weird that he was about to sign away his free will, and his biggest fear was public speaking.
As her father talked, Analiese glanced at him with that crease he was getting to know between her eyebrows. She had to feel his jitters. Hell, he could so easily run out that door and just keep running, never look back. He stared back at her. Get over it, female; your betrothed is afraid to talk in groups. He’s a big tongue-tied pussy.
You had to be a gay man when the word pussy made you think of a guy, but he looked at Paris. The cat gazed at him intently. What was he thinking??
Merced Marketo smiled, finished his welcome, and with a grand flourish of his arm called the “happy couple” up to sign the betrothal documents. Cole wanted to put on a good face for the pack. He tried to smile. With an extended hand, he helped Analiese get up and guided her around the table to the small stand in front of her father. God, you could hit a golf ball off her back, it was so stiff. Trixie walked beside them, and Landon and Crystal stepped into the circle as well.