Tiger's Strength

by Kimberly A Rogers

  Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, his mother turned slightly to a rather unassuming looking male Tiger who now stood on her right. He stood perhaps two inches taller than my own six feet (I rather suspected that the Tigress’ height was being helped by heels, but I at least had enough sense not to ask) with a lean build and dark hair that was just beginning to show grey at his temples. He wore a politely neutral expression that screamed diplomat to me. He offered an equally polite nod as Baran’s mother introduced him. “Since you do not know, this is my husband, Roderick Frost. And, I am Venetia Frost.”

  Will someone please kill me? As it was, I was sure my mortification was showing now. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at the third Tiger. I succeeding in not only offering the second worst insult in Therian etiquette when meeting a stranger, but I did it in front of the husband whose presence I wasn’t prepared for in the least. There weren’t any trees nearby for me to hide in. Maybe I could just bury myself in a snowbank. Venetia’s cool gaze swept over me, lingering on my loose hair, as she murmured, “You seem very comfortable . . . did you spend your entire time planning the insult or was it a byproduct of your naturally careless ways? I am inclined to believe the latter since it is impossible to think the House of Kemp is so wholly unaware of diplomats since my husband served as an ambassador on behalf of the North American Therians for the better part of ninety years.”

  I couldn’t even think of a response to the set down I had unintentionally earned. But, Baran was stirred into his overprotective stance as he coldly demanded, “If you have taken insult, Venetia, perhaps you would prefer that we leave now.”

  Just when I thought it couldn’t get any colder, it did. I cast Baran a nervous glance, but his face was as expressive as marble and the sterile scent of impassivity filled my nose. Great. Now, I actually felt worse about my blunder. Before I could think of a good way to calm Baran, his mother spoke in a voice so cold that I was more surprised when the icicles didn’t appear, “Do not be foolish, Baran. Do not think I would tolerate you wasting my time further by coming here only to leave right away.”

  For a moment, I wasn’t certain that Baran wouldn’t march me back to our car anyway. But, the TDS always did what was right and the Therian Way had a number of edicts dictating how one was to respect one’s parents. He bowed his head stiffly. “As you wish.”

  A quiet tenor broke the tension, but a fresh wave of mortification crashed over me as I met Roderick’s polite gaze. “Since you are staying, are you prepared for a late supper?”

  “We are most appreciative of your hospitality,” I said as I fell back on my own etiquette training. I was still likely to die of mortification before this visit was done, but at least I could remember some manners.

  Baran left my side and moved closer to his mother, the two now speaking in low tones. I purposefully tuned them out as Roderick approached me. Polite, collected, and not carved out of an ice block, he was already worlds warmer than my mother-in-law. Maybe the diplomatic lifestyle still rubbed off on him? Roderick nodded. “Allow me to get your bags. Baran knows the way to his room, of course.” He paused and then added, “Welcome to our home, Raina.”

  “Thank you,” I murmured as he walked past me.

  I glanced again at where Baran was now standing rather stiffly as his mother spoke. I quickly turned to go to the SUV to resist the temptation to start focusing on the dulled murmurs. I was not going to eavesdrop. Besides, with the way this visit was going, Venetia would notice and kick me out on my nose for daring to be so rude.

  Of course, in my efforts to avoid listening to Baran and Venetia, I completely missed the fact that the third Tiger had circled around behind me. I stopped short and barely kept from baring my teeth in a warning snarl as I met an intense golden gaze. The man was a younger version of Roderick, same lean build, but his dark hair was carefully smoothed and moussed into place. Unlike his parents, he hadn’t bothered with any sort of additional protection from the wind. His dark blue dress shirt was perfectly pressed, but his sleeves were rolled up to expose his forearms and the top button was undone. He was younger than Baran, probably not more than a decade older than I was if that, and while he shared more traits with Roderick, there was no doubt that he was related to Baran. Baran was merely taller, broader in the shoulders, and had tanned skin . . . there was also the distinct difference that Baran’s younger brother was clean shaven. He looked almost too pretty.

  A smirk appeared as he looked me over, and I got the distinct impression that he gave off the air of being suave and polished in a rather calculating manner. Feeling just a little bit outnumbered, my Leopard stirred with the desire to plaster herself rather tightly against her mate’s side. And, I was in total agreement with her. I offered a polite smile, and then quickly turned my attention back to where I had left the TDS. Baran and his mother were standing a little ways up the path now, still seemingly locked in conversation.

  Before I had even taken a full step toward them, the younger male had stepped in front of me blocking my path. The smirk still lingered around his mouth, but there was something calculating in his golden eyes as he looked me over slowly enough that I felt like a bug squirming underneath a magnifying glass. I narrowed my eyes slightly at him, but resisted baring my teeth. That wouldn’t be a polite way to greet Baran’s younger brother. He reached out and caught my hands in a surprisingly firm grip as he bowed his head. “I must declare myself enchanted.” He glanced over his shoulder at Baran and Venetia, then turned back to me as he raised my hands and pressed a kiss to my fingers. “I never understood the true meaning of being Elf-struck until this very moment.”

  I should have put on gloves. Why didn’t I put on gloves? I tried to wriggle my hands free, but the Tiger wouldn’t let go. Instead, he straightened and stepped uncomfortably close to me, still hanging on to my hands. I caught a whiff of pine in his cologne before he dared to murmur, “You are far prettier than I expected. Even a Mistoa like you should have had a better match than the old general. You must be desperate for a little fun.”

  My eyes widened at his behavior more than the use of the mild slur about my mixed heritage. What was wrong with this family? Before I could snap at him, the Tiger was yanked away. I caught a glimpse of cold fury in my husband’s eyes before he punched the other male in the mouth with enough force to flatten him to the ground. Baran stood over him, teeth bared in a silent snarl, but his scent was completely sterile, no hint at the temper my eyes attested was there. It was always slightly terrifying that he could hold so much control over his scent. A frisson of anger from the Tiger at his feet warmed the cold night air as Baran growled, “Keep your hands off my mate, Madoc.”

  Madoc wisely didn’t try to get up. Instead, he touched his fingers to his mouth, then protested with barely enough innocence to cover his insolence, “I was only attempting to be friendly, big brother.”

  For a moment I thought Baran was going to hit him again. Then he snarled, “Your interpretation of friendliness will never be welcome by any man whose mate you are targeting. Don’t touch her again.”

  The TDS didn’t even look at me as he abruptly straightened, tugged on his jacket, and then stalked off. I glanced at Madoc. Okay, they were definitely brothers . . . even if they were just as clearly way more dysfunctional than any of my brothers. I hopped over Baran’s little brother and chased after Baran. “Wait for me!”

  Baran stopped still, but didn’t turn toward me as I slid a little when my foot landed on an icy patch. At least, I didn’t add the insult of falling in an amazing display of ungracefulness to the rest of my mortifying first encounter with Baran’s family. I heard Roderick quietly scold, “You know better than to antagonize your brother, Madoc. I expect better of you. You should be thanking the Creator that they are out of the First Year Rage or else he would have done far more than deck you.”

  I ignored Madoc’s protest as I made my way to Baran’s side and grabbed his hand. He still refused to look at me. I finally stared up
at the huge lodge and found Venetia had already retreated to the top of the stone stairs. She was now gazing down on us like a rather dissatisfied empress. Her golden eyes were the coldest I had ever been witness to and everything about her brought to mind the old story about the Snow Queen. Her floor length velvet cape flared as she spun away from us and retreated with her head held high into the lodge. Yup, she definitely could play the Snow Queen.

  My heart sank a little when I realized she had never offered us a proper welcome. Oh, this was so not good. This also wasn’t at all how I had envisioned the first meeting with Baran’s family going. I didn’t even fully understand what exactly was happening between Baran and his family. Although to be fair, I wasn’t even one hundred percent certain that the Tall, Dark, and oh so Serious Tiger knew what exactly was going on with his family. Especially given the fact that I had just humiliated both of us with my spectacular failure of etiquette. I should have gone snooping through Baran’s family history when I had the chance instead of deciding that I wanted to wait until my husband opened up to me about them. Because he was just so talkative about himself and his past and things like his mother having remarried. Not.

  I suppressed the urge to groan. Could this get any worse? I immediately regretted that thought. The last thing I needed was for Murphy’s Law to accept the challenge and make this visit even worse in ways I obviously could not yet imagine. At least . . .

  No, we’re not going to fall into that trap either. As I followed Baran up the path, I could at least say I was now certain of two things. One, I had ruined my chance to make a good first impression on Baran’s mother in the most explosive way possible, short of accusing her of being Fringe and trying to arrest her. Two, Baran and I were going to have a talk about his decided lack of communication skills. Again.

  ΘΘΘΘΘΘ

  Raina

  The lodge was somehow even bigger on the inside. And, it was filled with Queen Anne style furniture in the main area changing to austere clean modern lines with only a few obligatory touches of antique vases with silk flowers and the occasional oil painting as I followed Baran into one of the wings and up a flight of stairs. When he walked into a bedroom that was bare of any sort of personal touches, I almost asked if he was sure he remembered the way to his own room.

  Then, Roderick came in and set our bags down. He didn’t say a word, just nodded to us and left. His soft tread muted completely once the door shut in his wake.

  I looked around the room. There was a large bed with freshly laundered sheets facing a huge window that looked out over the snowy forest, one chair, a night stand, a dresser, and an actual wardrobe. There was also a mezarium set into the wall on the other side of the door from the wardrobe. I actually hadn’t realized there were homes outside of the palace with a mez in individual family member rooms. There was also an en suite bathroom opposite the entry to the room. However, there was absolutely nothing in here to indicate this was Baran’s personal room. At home when I first moved into his house there had been little things to show he lived there. Even if most of it had been in his study. The TDS was being all broody and staring out the window with his arms crossed over his chest.

  I started unbuttoning my coat. Frosty welcome, notwithstanding, the actual temperature inside the house was comfortable. My eyes swept over the sterile room again. “This is where you stay?”

  “Yes.”

  Clipped answer, not even a glance spared for me. Great, a grumpy TDS was just what I needed. Like I didn’t have enough to deal with on this trip already. I pursed my lips as my leopard stirred in response to my flare of agitation. Still, I thought I did a rather impressive job of not growling at him and even sounding extremely . . . or at least, somewhat civil. “Okay, you can’t do the ‘I’m a big bad broody Tiger’ thing right now. You need to talk to me. Now.”

  Baran looked over at me. He was completely impassive, not a flicker of emotion in his face or in his scent. I positively hated it. Then, the TDS had the gall to act like I was being irrational as he rumbled, “There is nothing to discuss, Raina.”

  “Raina disagrees,” I snapped.

  Crossing to him, I slugged him in the arm. That effort earned me a raised eyebrow and my stomach flipped in response. I had to actually remember that I was less than happy with the big dork of a Tiger right now. I scowled at him. “In what universe, is it more important to warn me that your mother doesn’t like hugs than to tell me that when you said we were going to your mother’s den what you actually meant was that your mother and step-father were going to be our hosts? And, you had two days to alert me to this fact, Baran. You know, before I completely humiliated myself by addressing your mother by the wrong familial name and implying she has loose morals.”

  “You weren’t supposed to be addressing her familiarly at all,” came the grumble.

  Unbelievable! I threw my hands in the air, but I did resist trying to wrap them around the dense Tiger’s neck. Still a growl tinged my words as I exclaimed, “What was I supposed to do then? Say ‘it is so nice to meet you, Baran’s mother?’ You could have at least told me her given name was Venetia instead of letting me blunder into this blindly.”

  I turned away from him, rubbing my hands against my eyes, as my mind oh so helpfully offered a recap of the embarrassing encounter. I groaned. “Oh, I have never been so mortified in my life! This is worse than that stupid prank Connor and Constantine pulled on me when I was six! And now that I’ve so thoroughly ruined my chance to make a good impression on your mother, she probably hates me. Or thinks I’m an idiot. Or both. It’s probably both. I feel like it’s both. Or that it should be both because I did just make a complete and utter fool of myself. And, in front of your stepfather too! Where’s a handy rock for me to crawl under and die when I need it?”

  Baran’s hand clamped down on my shoulder and spun me toward him. I lowered my hands to peek up at him as he gently touched my face, calloused fingers brushing over my cheek. His scent hadn’t lost its shielding impassivity, but at least his eyes had softened a teensy amount. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you, but I do not . . . Raina, I never drag up family shame for anyone to inspect.”

  I pulled away from his touch as bewilderment warred with anger. Anger won. Balling my hand into a fist, I hit him in the ribs just hard enough to earn a grunt. “You’re an idiot, Baran Demirci.” I jabbed my finger at his nose as I hissed, “I am your wife, not some random stranger you found wandering the streets. Therefore, I never fall into the same category of ‘anyone.’ There is anyone and then there is me, your wife. I am supposed to be told the things you don’t tell anyone for whatever reason your weird brain comes up with for keeping secrets.”

  I took a breath, but the TDS finally showed some sense by not interrupting. I stepped away from him as I tried to sort through this mess. How could this trip turn into such a disaster? We hadn’t even been here a full hour! Ugh, it was all such a . . . a disastrous mess!

  Giving up, I turned back to him. “I don’t understand what you mean by referring to your mother’s remarriage as a family shame. There is nothing shameful about Therians remarrying after the loss of a spouse. I mean, yes, I know it doesn’t happen a whole lot during peacetime, but it does happen. There’s nothing in the edicts against such an occurrence. I don’t understand why you’re embarrassed by the fact that your mother remarried.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  I hated it when he said those words. Because they were usually his excuse to continue avoiding discussing something with me. I folded my arms over my chest. “Okay, then, uncomplicate it.”

  For a moment, for one brief moment, I thought he might actually open up to me. Then the mez flared to life and the sound waves formed into the image of Roderick as he said with the utmost politeness, “Supper will be on the table in fifteen minutes if you would like to freshen up and change before joining us.”

  Baran didn’t bother to answer and Roderick stepped away allowing the mez to darken once more. They actually used
the mez for in house messages. This place must be even bigger than I thought it was because I hadn’t expected that at all. Before I could question Baran on whether or not such calls were a common occurrence, he grabbed the larger of our bags and unzipped it. “We need to change into our formal wear and quickly. Arriving late at supper is frowned upon.”

  “It’s frowned upon at our house too,” I couldn’t help muttering. But, I had already made up my mind to cling to the hope that the supper would provide me with the opportunity to make amends with Venetia.

  We had five minutes remaining when I finished pinning up my elaborately braided hair. The Elven style was the same I had worn at my wedding and the height of elegant formality for women in both Caderyn and Auberon’s courts. I glanced at Baran who was dressed austerely in black slacks and a buttoned dress shirt that was such a dark shade of navy it was almost black. He was checking his pocket watch. Again.

  “Baran? Would you zip me up?”

  The TDS’ impassive expression didn’t even twitch as he looked at me. He was far too business-like when he finally came over and zipped me up. When he stepped back, I immediately twirled for him. The dark forest green dress with its crew neckline, long sleeves, and beaded leaves forming an abstract pattern across the silk overlay from the neck down combined with the short train was one of the gowns I wore when I had to make an appearance at a court function. Or one of the most formal balls. It was mildly intimidating that this was the level of formality for supper. And, it wasn’t even Thanksgiving proper yet. I pulled up my skirt just enough to slip my feet into my nice kitten heels, and then let the skirt fall back into place. It still pooled slightly around my feet.

  If this was how I was expected to dress for supper, I was very glad that I had picked such an elaborate style for my hair. I was beginning to understand why Baran was being so standoffish. His mother was far more reserved than I had anticipated. Roderick, I didn’t really have a good read on yet, but I already suspected he wasn’t as reserved as Venetia. Madoc . . . was a pest of a little brother and therefore not part of the equation.