Everyone turned from Gunnar, to Ashley, and then ultimately, to me.

I shared a long look with Gunnar before asking everyone to head out to the reception area. Alucard, Tory, the Huntress… look, everyone wanted to stick around for the private pow-wow, and they all began talking at once. I called back my whip and cracked it in the air, something I’d been working on for a few weeks. The sudden shower of white sparks silenced every protest.

I picked out the Reds from the crowd. “Sonia. Arya. Can you please escort everyone to the reception area? The Best Man wants to talk to the Groom.” I shot a look at Gunnar and then Ashley. “The Bride can stay too, of course. I’m not feeling suicidal.”

As angry as she was, that earned a flicker of a smile. She took a deep breath, shook her head, and then descended the steps. Callie was waiting for her as if by magic. She smiled at Ashley and then slowly reached up to brush one of the braids hanging near her massive jaws. “Very pretty,” she said softly. Ashley let out a sniff, her head suddenly dropping as if about to cry. Gunnar moved as if to catch her, but Callie shot him a deadly look. He froze instinctively – subdued by only the power of her silent look. All women were born with this mysterious power, magical or not. Ashley straightened her shoulders and then wrapped Callie up in a tight hug, towering over the much smaller, white-haired wizard.

I shook my head in wonder, reminded that I would never understand these mythical creatures known as women. Gunnar had obviously experienced the same revelation because he cocked his head, watching curiously as the two began walking away, Callie speaking in soft tones to Ashley.

Alucard slipped off the stage with Tory, eyes locked onto the Reds and Yahn, no doubt to have a very serious talk about the whole garter situation. I grinned at their backs, not envying Yahn’s fate. I locked eyes with the Horsemen Ushers, jerking my chin towards the reception area. Keep your eyes open this time, Brothers. Death nodded and the Four slipped away. I idly wondered how Zeus had even gotten into the wedding past all the security.

It had been by invite only. I shook my head, promising myself I would get to the bottom of it.

Roland and his two wolves had flanked Ashley and Callie without a word, taking it upon themselves to act as the wolf queen’s guards. Ashley noticed immediately, dipping her head at Roland. But she bared her teeth territorially at Paradise and Lost. Callie calmly stepped back, but the wolves didn’t appear to notice. Paradise and Lost dipped their heads and lowered their eyes – but I got the sense that it wasn’t out of fear or weakness. They were acknowledging her authority here in St. Louis, but also firmly telling her they wouldn’t rescind their offer of protection.

It wasn’t two wolves submitting to an obviously stronger wolf. That wasn’t even a question.

This was an act of respect.

Ashley watched them for a moment and then finally dipped her head like she had to Roland. Paradise, the taller of the two, cleared her throat. “We brought our luggage with us, so we have a few spare dresses that should fit you very well…” she offered carefully.

Callie waited, close enough to interfere if Bridezilla attacked. I hoped.

Ashley finally glanced down at herself, lip curling at her werewolf form, as if only just realizing she had ruined her wedding dress. “That… would be nice,” she growled, her voice sounding hollow, as if the rage was fading, only to be replaced with regret at her tarnished wedding.

Paradise stepped up closer, holding out an elbow for Ashley to acknowledge, rather than grabbing the wolf queen unasked. Smart. Ashley stared at the offer for a moment before linking her arm and letting Paradise lead her away to a side room. “I hope you don’t mind showing off a little skin…” she said, eyes mischievous.

“This might be the most fun I’ve ever had at a wedding,” Lost chimed in sweetly, stepping up to Ashley’s other side. “I’ve heard of trashing the dress afterwards, but that was hardcore. Mind if I copy your idea? Some day?”

Ashley turned a bewildered look from one to the other. Then she slowly bared her teeth. Lost grinned, so apparently Ashley’s gesture wasn’t a warning. It was hard to tell, being a human observer. The smallest thing could rile a wolf, and then what I would consider an obvious threat or challenge would elicit nothing more than a laugh. Or it was just their mysterious womanly ways. I shrugged. Greater minds than mine had cracked their teeth on that chestnut.

Roland followed behind the three wolves, speaking softly with Callie. They shot me one last look and I nodded at them, a silent command to guard Ashley with their lives.

Because maybe Zeus had lied about attending the wedding alone.

I turned to find Gunnar staring out the glass window behind the altar. The labyrinth stretched outside in the distance, the sun bathing it in an orange glow. Gunnar remained in his wolf form.

“Congratulations,” I said, stepping up beside him.

His shoulders tensed at my voice. He was breathing heavily, eye distant.

“No one died,” I noted.

He grunted. “Pity…”

I sighed, nodding my agreement. “How do you want to play it? Not that you need help, but if I can do anything…” I said this carefully. Because he was still in wolf form, and not as rational.

Understatement. He was a breath away from murder.

I didn’t want him thinking I was telling him he needed my help. He didn’t. I hoped. I was sure any help I offered would only make things worse. He would lose face with his wolves. Or some other political shit would happen. I didn’t know much about werewolf politics, and Gunnar had never been a political schemer, so perhaps he didn’t know either. Hence, the silence right now.

“No.”

Expected, but the stubborn, stupid part of me wanted to press him. I didn’t, but I wanted to. “Okay. What about my first question. How do you want to play this?”

The room was silent for a good minute. “We were supposed to go on our honeymoon tomorrow…” he said, voice shaking. Not with fear, but trying to hold back the river of fury now coursing through his veins. Zeus’ challenge had tarnished his single moment of joy – the most important day of his life.

“Probably intentional,” I offered in a soft tone.

He snarled at the window, claws flashing out. “I will rip the hide from his bones.”

I waited for him to take a figurative step back from the ledge he was perched on. “Solid plan. What about his pack, though? What happens after?”

Gunnar was silent for a few moments. Then he turned to face me, and the pain I saw in his eye almost made me change my mind about killing Zeus myself. Gunnar was barely holding himself together.

This one day – his wedding day – had been taken from him.

And he wanted the world to hear his thoughts on the matter. To share his feelings about that.

His pack had been threatened.

He had been threatened.

The very first words Ashley had heard as his new wife had been a threat from another wolf.

His wedding ceremony had been stained.

And Gunnar seemed intent to repaint that memory with a healthy coat of fresh blood.

“You’ll take care of it.” I waited a few seconds. “Mind explaining these rules to me?” I pressed casually, showing no doubt in his capacity and capability to slaughter the other Alpha.

Gunnar nodded slowly. “I’ve learned bits and pieces from some of my pack – those who’ve lived under other Alphas in other cities. When a lone wolf wants to challenge an Alpha – like I did to win St. Louis – he can do so as long as there are other witnesses to the fact. To make sure it’s fair. But when two Alphas have a pack – and mates – things must be handled differently. More… officially. That’s why he waited until the ceremony was over.”

My eyes widened briefly. Wow. That… was unbelievable. The prick had waited until Gunnar was married for a reason other than just being a dick? He really had been playing politics.

“What’s different?”

“Spoils of war,” Gunnar responded in a dry tone. “Terms. The pack merging together after. The fact that the packs need to hear the terms and then choose a side before the challenge.”

I blinked. “You mean…”

Gunnar nodded. “Yes. My pack could choose to merge with his to prevent the fight, essentially neutering me. I could still fight, but what would be the point? My pack would have declared their preference – not me – so even if I won I would likely have to kill them. All.”

I shook my head. “They would never do that.” Gunnar didn’t look as convinced. My mind raced. “This means you have the chance to win his wolves to your side…”

Gunnar shrugged. “Doubtful, or he wouldn’t have waited. And I’ve got more important things to do tonight. I won’t spend my wedding night politicking!” he snarled. He continued in a more reasonable tone. “Zeus has something up his sleeve. He waited for a reason. But what could he have that would convince my wolves to change sides?” I began to shake my head, but Gunnar interrupted. “Think about it, Nate. My pack loves Ashley and me. Wulfra and Wulfric. But… my ties with you have brought them directly into your fights. Every. Single. Time. My tenure as Alpha has been wrought with fighting everything other than werewolves. And all related to you.” My shoulders slumped. I opened my mouth, but couldn’t find the words. Gunnar reached out a clawed paw to grasp my shoulder reassuringly, but I stepped back in shame.

He sighed. “I wouldn’t change a thing, Nate. And I doubt many of them would either. Look at what they got in exchange. Two Fae-touched werewolf leaders. No one else has that. No one.”

I nodded sickly. “That doesn’t directly benefit them, though.”

Gunnar lowered his paw. “That’s my fear. That Zeus will offer them something that directly benefits them. Empowering the pack, not the leaders. Bribing them.”

I let out a breath, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “Okay, so what happens? You meet up tomorrow morning with both packs present, hold a vote of some kind, and then, what, duke it out?”

Gunnar shrugged. “As far as I know, yes.”

“Okay, we need to—”

“Nate,” Gunnar interrupted. My mouth snapped shut as I looked up at him. “Your work here is done. Right now, I’m going to go kiss my wife,” he smiled distantly, as if only just realizing he hadn’t yet had a chance to do that. Then he smiled wider. “Then I’m going to dance with her. Maybe shove some cake in her face if she’ll let me. And then…” his eye grew dark and lustful. He didn’t finish his sentence as he strode off the stage.

Rather than head to the reception, he approached the changing room where we had gotten ready. He had a change of clothes in there just in case – because he always carried a back-up. Even on his wedding day, apparently.

Before he reached the door, I called out in a sing song voice, mimicking the jingle from that Hot Pocket commercial.

“Red rocket…” I sang, smirking at him.

He whirled in disbelief. Then he burst out laughing. “I’ll do my duty,” he said, grinning. “But I probably won’t call it that. I’d rather Ashley not die of laughter on our wedding night.” Then, with a final shake of his head, still chuckling, he left me alone at the altar.

Realizing how that sounded, I let out a resigned sigh.

Time to crash this reception.