The Alpha Tiger's Baby Bun Buns: MM Alpha Omega Fated Mates Mpreg Shifter

By Akita StarFire

Carrots.

Roger, the omega were-rabbit, hated carrots.

His alpha and omega fathers, though, ran a carrot farm. And he was expected to learn the business.

But something happened at 777 LuckyFoot Lane. Something that would intertwine the lives of the QuickPaw and the Razdar clans, the were-tiger billionaire clan of bankers, together in a cruel twist of fate.

The elder banker dies suddenly. An accident befalls Roger's alpha father in the carrot patch. Houses are suddenly foreclosed upon and elderly tenants are kicked out onto the streets. Or worse.

At the heart of it all are the Razdar brothers. Royce, a tiger of honor who wishes to follow in his father's footsteps. And Anthony, who wants to run things his way.

Saving the omega rabbit, Razdar must uncover why his clients are being foreclosed upon. The father's death was ruled natural causes, but there are doubts and suspicions.

Can a were-rabbit who hates carrots and a were-tiger set aside their differences long enough to acknowledge what they both know to be true? Can love really conquer all?

The truth must be revealed! Who was really responsible for Razdar's alpha father's death? Who was behind the cruel evictions and "accidents" that befell his clients?

And, most importantly, who put a bun in Roger's oven?

This 50k word story contains an HEA, Mpreg, and babies at the end. Cute babies. Insufferable little tykes that get into all sorts of trouble.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Akita StarFire
• Release date: May 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386123521

Book preview

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Chapter 1

Royce this! Royce that! Anthony ranted as he paced the room, making wild gestures. That's all I hear about is him!

Son, I don't like what you're doing to the company. You are foreclosing on innocent people just because they can't pay their mortgage due to unforeseen circumstances. Richard said, observing how his son was behaving.

He decided that his eldest son would get the company and his youngest son would get what he craved the most, money. Richard wouldn't allow the family business to be driven into the ground by greed. Not while he was still alive.

It pained him to have changed his will, however he didn't see that he had much of a choice. His eldest son had always been the responsible one, while the younger one was reckless and on a path of destruction.

How could he prevent Tony from going down this dangerous path?

He was going to make them both owners of his company, when he died. Richard changed his mind when he realized, with a sad heart, that his youngest son cared not for anyone other than himself.

This was when he decided to change his will. He'd make Royce the owner of the company because then he knew that it would be in good, capable hands. He gave Anthony the money his greedy heart desired.

He took a sip of his coffee as he listened to Anthony's tirade. Richard loved the rich, black coffee and drank it every morning without fail.

Alpha father, I'm as good as him. I can run this business just as well and you know it. Anthony snarled.

Richard set his cup down and sighed.

My son, would you want your house taken away just because you were sick or were otherwise unable to care for your farm? Richard asked his son, already knowing the answer. Somehow he had to get through to him that it wasn't all about money.

Father! Why do I care about these stupid plebes? If they can't pay their rent, they should be kicked out of their homes. Anthony rolled his eyes, it was hard trying to explain cold, hard facts to the sentimental old fool.

It's not fair to them. You wouldn't like it done to you. That's not how I'm running this business. And it's sure as hell not how you're going to run it. His father said as he picked up his cup, inhaling the rich aroma.

Father! Anthony pulled out a chair and straddled it as he leaned his elbows on the table.

Richard thought of what he must say to his son. He didn't think he would understand, he had to try anyway.

He drank the strong, black liquid, relishing its flavor.

Anthony, when I came to this country, I was dirt poor. I struggled to make enough money to feed myself. I know how it is to struggle in an uncertain world. He placed the coffee cup back in the saucer.

When I became a manager, I decided I would open up the bank. Thanks to my persistence and will, it's become the largest corporation in the nation. However, I never forgot how it felt to be at the mercy of those who exploited the powerless.

Father, I've heard that story a million times. I don't see why you're so merciful when they certainly wouldn't be the same to you. Anthony paced back and forth like a caged tiger.

He knew the reason why he was staying here listening to this worthless lecture from a prehistoric tiger that couldn't get with the times.

Many things would change when he was in charge of the business. He didn't have to listen to his out-dated views.

Son, you don't know how to run the business with compassion and logic. Richard told him.

Richard picked up his cup when out of nowhere, numbness shot like lightning down his arms. His fingers couldn't hold his cup and it fell, shattering on the floor. Coffee splattered everywhere.

What... happening... He could barely breathe. Call 911. He wheezed as pain raked its claws through him. The pressure on his chest felt like a truck had slammed into it.

That won't be necessary, pops. Anthony took out his cell phone and dialed the number.

Richard prayed to all the Gods that his son was dialing the appropriate number. Intuition told him that he wasn't, and had no desire to.

Yeah. Is Jesse there? Anthony smiled as his father struggled to get to his phone.

Yeah, it's me. He slipped between the old man and his phone, ignoring his father's wide, pleading eyes.

Yeah, the old man's kicking the bucket as we speak. Here, listen to his gurgled choking... He held out the phone. Yes, his eyes are bulging as we speak and he's got a gnarly vein popping out of his forehead.

Gross, I know. But it'll be over soon. You want to celebrate? Anthony gave his father a warm smile. He loved watching the old man die.

Where to? Maybe The Whore's Unlimited? There's lots of hot omegas there. Anthony smiled, feeling that this was the best day of his life.

Yeah, that place rocks. Meet you there in an hour.

Gasping for breath, the old tiger attempted to grab his phone from his son, but he was so weak and numb that he couldn't do it.

Instead, he lost his balance and toppled to the floor. Struggling for his very life, he looked up with pleading eyes to his youngest son.

Anthony knelt down by his stricken alpha father and patted him on the cheek as if he were a child.

Pops, I hate to tell you this, but I drugged you. It makes you have an undetectable heart attack. Anthony smiled, relishing his father's condition. Soon, you'll be dead and I don't have to listen to your insane prattling.

He laughed. This was so much fun.

Alpha father, I don't know what to do without you. You were always so wise, patient and loving and now that you're gone, how am I going to run the business? Royce choked out the words that weighed on his heart.

Royce, the 24-year-old were-tiger, composed himself. The grief in his heart felt like fire burning his soul to ash.

I'm too young to be the head banker of Razdar INC. I expected you to run the business for many, many years. Why did you have to die?

Royce tried to swallow the lump that formed in his throat as he stared at his father's freshly dug grave. He fell to his knees as sobs broke from his chest.

Forty-four is too young to die. How could you have had a heart attack? He asked the head stone.

Birds twittered in the Cyprus trees as the sun chased the clouds from the sapphire sky. A squirrel bounded through the grass with his bushy tail waving behind him.

The activity of life surrounded him in all its vibrancy. But all he saw was the dark clouds of grief. He'd lost his alpha father and best friend in all the world.

It still bothered him that his healthy father had been found in the kitchen on the floor dead. Royce shook his head in puzzlement, not wanting to accept the doctor's pronouncement of a heart attack.

Something gnawed at his heart like a rat, pushing beyond his grief and questions. It didn't feel right that a man who had never smoked, drank or did any kind of drugs would die like this.

How? Royce questioned the cooing doves. Something wasn't right about this, but what, he couldn't quite place his finger on.

Anthony would know, he was there. He said that he'd dialed 911, but it'd been too late.

He had to know how their alpha father passed away. The only problem was, he didn't want to put him through the pain of reliving the event.

I need to know. Royce said as he walked away.

Roger! Roger! Get up this instant. Peter QuickPaw shouted. Grabbing a broom, he banged it on the ceiling.

Roger sighed and placed his laptop on the nightstand. Rolling his eyes, he hopped from the bed and skipped downstairs.

Yes, alpha father? He asked, wondering what his father wanted this time.

He wondered if his father wanted him to pick the carrots or take them to market? Did he want him to get seeds? Or did they need weeding?

Roger couldn't care less about the farm. He didn't want to learn the family business his father had so desperately tried to teach him.

What he wanted was to be a writer. He'd studied and crafted his art to where he thought he could make a living off of it.

Son, I want you to go down to the market and buy some more carrot seeds. Then, I need you to pick the weeds in the carrot patch. Peter said.

Roger groaned and looked up at the ceiling.

My boy, how many times do I have to tell you that you can't make it as a writer. Who do you think you are? Kevin King? Peter said, folding his arms across his chest and tapping his foot on the floor.

Alpha father, if Kevin King can become the greatest novelist, then so can I. Roger protested.

Son, you know that very few people can become that big. It's better to have another job that provides stability and then go after these pie-in-the-sky dreams. He informed his son, knowing that it hurt, but this was practicality.

All right. Roger rolled his eyes and slammed the door, stamping his way out to the truck.

He drove off and headed to the store. Roger wondered why his father couldn't see that being a writer was more than just a silly dream. It was his life.

He wanted to be like Kevin King, the great novelist, and travel the world and live a life of luxury.

Of course, he knew that few writers ever attained that amount of fame. Everybody pointed that out to him every chance they got.

They probably told Kevin King that, too.

He always wondered why he couldn't be like the acclaimed novelist. What made Kevin King a literary genius, while everybody predicted he wouldn't amount to a hill of beans?

He couldn't understand why people discouraged him. Writing wasn't as simple as coming up with an idea, writing it down and editing it as people believed.

He sighed as he got out of the truck and went into the store to get those damn carrot seeds.

Hey there, Roger! The shopkeeper waved at him with a smile. The usual?

Yes. Please. Roger prayed they didn't have any. He didn't want to be a carrot farmer. Though he'd never tell anyone. Especially not his alpha father.

Sure, I'll go get them. They're in the back. The shopkeeper stepped into the back room as Roger tapped his fingers on the counter-top.

There are three boxes back there. He came out of the back room, pushing the dolly.

Thanks. Roger cringed at the sight of the carrot boxes. He hated carrots!

He took the dolly and wheeled it out to the truck. He hoisted the heavy boxes and threw them into the bed.

It's good that you're learning a trade from your father. I know you want to be a writer, but that's a very unpredictable hobby. Maybe you'll make it big one day, but the chances are, you won't. The shopkeeper took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow.

Roger just nodded, wondering why the people in this town were so afraid of the unknown. Why couldn't they accept that he was different?

He nodded, knowing there was no way to explain to him the passion that he felt for writing. He loved sitting down and creating an idea straight from his imagination. He spun tales of adventure and romance that he wanted to share with the world.

He wanted an audience that would read his words and be entertained by them. But, apparently, people wanted him to work a normal, boring job.

Why? Why can't they see I'm not like them! He muttered under his breath as he walked through the door.

Now maybe he could get back to writing his epic fantasy novel.

Son, your father wanted me to tell you to go to the field and help him plant the carrots. His omega father told him as the aroma of carrot stew perfumed the kitchen.

Roger rolled his eyes and inwardly groaned, knowing that dear ol' pop likely had more of his pearls of wisdom to give him. Probably something about carrots, he mused. So much for his novel. Maybe he should write a gardening book.

How was he ever going to finish it if he had to help around the farm all the time?

Roger, you know your father is only doing what's best for you. He's trying to teach you the family business so you can take over one day. You're the only son who hasn't learned the business. Jim said as he motioned him over to have a taste of the stew.

Roger dragged his feet to the stove. He sipped the carrot stew and shook his head.

Needs more carrots. He said dryly, looking at his omega father's smiling brown eyes.

All your brothers have moved away from home. They've all got different jobs - real jobs that can support them.

I know. Why can't father accept that I want something different in life?

"Your brothers have very good careers. Mark's a grocer at Carrot Heaven. Ed's a police bunny. Even Jim makes a good living as a door-to-door carrot salesman. But they all have one thing in common: security. Jim told him as he searched the cupboard.

Since you're an omega and you don't want to get married, your alpha father feels that you should take over the farm. Jim pulled out a carrot cheesecake.

Omega father, you know how much I hate this place. It's so boring and...full of work that I just don't want. Roger shrugged, knowing that it was like talking to a brick wall with his father.

Yes, I'm fully aware of that. He nodded in acknowledgment, cutting the pie and handing him a piece. Just try to understand where he is coming from when he tries to teach you about the farm. He said.

All right. Roger agreed, slumping his shoulders.

Roger thought about what his omega father had told him. It made perfect sense.

Maybe he could make this situation work out for him. He could write a