The Mating Season: Werewolves of Montana Book 6 Read online

  “They were not dreams, but memories. I merely triggered your dormant memories of our life together.” He stretched out his long legs. “A life we shared as Lupines back in 1085 A.D. before I died and the goddess Danu made me into the Silver Wizard, guardian and judge of all shifters.”

  All shifters. Not just Lupines like her. Nikita felt a chill rush down her spine at the idea of such power. Tristan was an immortal, powerful being.

  Sensual awareness sparked his gaze. “It was a most pleasant time when you and I were mates. We had a very active love life. I seldom left you alone, but for when I had to travel.”

  In those dreams, Tristan had made love to her and made her scream with pleasure.

  A heated flush tinted her cheeks, and she knew it wasn’t from the fever, but her thoughts. “That was more than nine hundred years ago. I have a long-term memory problem.”

  He flashed a roguish grin, reminding her of a pirate from her favorite romance novels. The kind who tore off the clothing of fair maidens and ravished them and kept ravishing them.

  Niki smoothed down the flannel of her pajama top. Hearts and flowers. Hardly the type of seductive nightwear meant for bedding by lusty pirates. She had no clothing, no provisions. But she was at the beach at last, and even if she had no control over her fate at the present, she was going to enjoy herself before Tristan ravished her.

  Or killed her.

  After spending her entire life hidden away like a dark secret, she craved freedom and sunshine. Her natural sense of adventure surfaced. Maybe there was a really nice beach where she could walk and pick up shells. She craned her neck to study the cool blue sweep of ocean showing outside the sliding glass doors. And she could swim as well. All those movies she’d watched in her basement apartment had made her yearn to see the ocean.

  She looked at Tristan. “Can you find me some jeans and a shirt? I’d like to shower and then walk on the beach.”

  “Clothing, yes. Walk on the beach, no. You’re still weak and recovering.” He frowned. “You should not leave the room today.”

  “Is that an order?”

  Tristan raised a dark brow. “It is for your safety.”

  Safety? Suddenly her fears began to fade, replaced with resentment. How many times had she heard that before? From her father when he was alive, and her brothers, and later her identical twin? Don’t you dare leave this basement, Niki, it’s not safe. We can’t risk anyone seeing you. If Tristan finds out you’re alive, he’ll abduct you and you’ll die.

  And now her family’s worst nightmare had happened. And the wizard she’d been taught to fear was going to imprison her like she’d been imprisoned for twenty-five years.

  “I’ve remained cooped up my entire life on my father’s ranch to protect me from you. And now that you have me, you’re going to keep me locked up like a jewel?”

  He set down the pen upon the table next to the chair. “You are a jewel, my sweet. I am thinking of your safety. My intention is not to incarcerate you. Does this look like a prison?”

  Since strength had returned to her limbs and her stomach was more settled, Niki felt her courage rise more. “A prison, no matter how luxurious, is still a prison if one cannot leave it. The basement apartment Nia created to keep me hidden from you was filled with everything I needed, except I could not leave it.”

  Tristan drummed his fingers on the armrest. “Now that we are together, you are vulnerable to my enemies. Trust me, Nikita, I am more than fourteen hundred years old and I know much of the world. There are dangers here in the mortal world and you cannot remain here long. We must journey to Tir Na-nog. Only there can you be fully safe, and your spirit and body healed.”

  “Terrific,” she murmured. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you had to walk into mine.”

  The wizard knit his brows.

  She sighed. “It’s a line from Casablanca. I watched a lot of movies. It was my only real entertainment.”

  Tristan kept his expression blank, as if hiding his opinion of her movie watching.

  “What kind of dangers are you talking about? If you’re a powerful wizard, why should you worry?” She swung her legs over the bed’s side, feeling more rested, but still fragile.

  “Mara.” Tristan took the hotel pen and twirled it between his fingers. He had long, elegant fingers. She wondered how it would feel to have those fingers stroking over her bare flesh…

  Niki glanced up and saw his lips curl in a knowing smile. She sniffed and hugged herself.

  “What’s a Mara? It sounds ugly.”

  “In spirit, yes, but outwardly, Mara is breathtakingly beautiful. She’s a powerful Fae who has lived more than two thousand years.” He lifted the pen by the tip of one finger and began spinning it in the air like a top. “I always did attract older women.”

  Niki rolled her eyes.

  “She cannot kill me, for I am immortal. But she can hurt you, badly, while you remain here on Earth. She is lethal and knows how much you mean to me and that makes her jealous of you.” Tristan’s piercing gaze settled on her, and Niki shivered.

  It was unsettling, knowing she was the one this powerful being wanted above all others, wanted her because once, long ago, she had been his love.

  And she remembered nothing of it.

  Pressing her fingers against her forehead, she studied the soothing vista of the blue ocean. “Is this Mara someone from your, our, past?”

  “Back in our day, she was a force of reckoning. I enlisted her help to find dragon eggs, the eggs that contain the most powerful magick from dragons. The eggs were pivotal to winning the Drakon War. She did, but the gold I offered wasn’t enough.”

  The pen fell to the floor as he studied her. “She wanted to become my lover.”

  Her throat tight, Niki looked away. “And you lay with her.”

  Tristan left his seat and knelt before her. He put a finger on her chin, turning her face to meet him. “You were my mate. I was Lupine and we mate for life. I would not violate my vows and dishonor you.”

  But I have no real memory of our time together. It means nothing to me. “And what did she do?”

  “Mara said she understood, but she is manipulative. She lies in wait for what she desires, like a fat spider spinning a sticky web.” Tristan dropped his hand and his expression grew hard. “She told me she would become my lover, when I lost the ‘impediments’ barricading our time together. Meaning, you and the child you carried in your belly.”

  Niki’s nausea returned. She pressed her hands against her churning stomach, wondering why the idea of being pregnant made her want to weep.

  Rubbing her aching temples, she shook her head. “Let me get the details straight, Tristan, and why you want me. You and I were mated, in the 11th century, oh, about 1085 AD. And then you died and became the Silver Wizard, the immortal judge and guardian of all shifters. And I died?”

  “You died and the babe you carried in your belly died as well.”

  Her lips parted. “I have no memory of this.” I wouldn’t want it back, either.

  Tristan’s gaze grew stormy. “I have enough for both of us. I carried it through the years, the decades, the centuries, waiting for you to become reincarnated and return to me.”

  Fisting his hands, he stared at the silk-patterned walls. “After I died and went to Tir Na-nog, the heavenly afterworld, the goddess Danu asked me to become the Silver Wizard, the guardian and judge of all shifters. I did so on one condition. I told her I would protect, guard and judge shifters if you would eventually return to me and give me what I had been denied when I was mortal.”

  She feared to ask. “And what do you want?”

  His dark gaze gleamed. “A child.”

  Chapter 2

  His beautiful, brave Nikita stared at him, her lower lip trembling. She drew back as if he were a monster who wanted to rape her.

  Tristan knew it was a lot to digest. Hell, how could he ask her to just blithely accept their past life together? He had hoped
the memories he’d triggered over the past few weeks would help, but clearly, she still feared him.

  Twenty-five years of her family teaching her to be terrified of him would do that, he thought ruefully. Damn the prophecy that foretold he would abduct her and kill her. That was the trouble with ancient prophecies. The words became twisted over the centuries and the truth warped. But still, her family had believed every word.

  How could he create a baby with her in loving passion when his past/future mate looked at him as if he wanted to slay her?

  Slay her with pleasure, yes. Even now he trembled with the terrible want of her, the need to tear off her clothing and plunge his sex deep inside her, bonding them together in the flesh at last. The vision she had obviously seen in the mirror had been a manifestation of his darkest, deepest desires.

  Kill her? Of course not. But her family had drilled it into Nikita’s head that he was a monster, who was foretold to destroy her. Nine hundred years ago, Nikita had captured his heart with her beauty and her gentle spirit and courage. He had never forgotten her, had never ceased desiring her all these centuries.

  He had made a promise to her that would not be broken.

  Patience, he reminded himself. You’ve waited hundreds of years for this moment. Don’t screw it up.

  Blue eyes wide, she blinked hard. “Inconceivable.”

  Tristan rocked back on his booted heels. What?

  “I do not think it means what you think it means.” Nikita licked her mouth. “Princess Bride.”

  “A good movie.” He had watched this one. Tristan waited.

  “A child.” She gnawed on her lush lower lip and he nearly groaned, for he badly wanted to touch her, taste her. “You want to make a baby with me.”

  “Yes,” he said quietly, watching her face.

  Niki hugged herself. “Mind if I have a shower first and a walk on the beach?”

  Tristan stared, and then laughed. After all these centuries, his Nikita was still…Nikita. Ah, that pragmatic streak that kept him grounded, and laughing.

  A vision flickered from his past. The hook the executioner lifted, sunlight glinting on the cruel metal…Nikita’s terrified screams for them to stop…

  Tristan ceased laughing.

  “It’s far too dangerous. We’ll dine here, in the room, while you gather your strength.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m strong enough now. And it’s only a walk on the beach. Maybe collect a few seashells. How dangerous is that?”

  Nikita knew nothing of the dangers of this world or the Others who possessed such powers and wouldn’t hesitate to use them against her. He had many enemies. Shifters whose loved ones he had been forced to exterminate when they turned to darkness. Shifters, more than any Others, had long memories and were loyal to family.

  Taking a deep breath, he sat beside her again, fighting the temptation to kiss her senseless, keeping her distracted from the beach in a much more pleasant way.

  “Seashells can be whittled to sharp edges that can cut your skin to ribbons. The ocean tides can rise up and drown you. Or a sinkhole can appear beneath your bare feet and the sands can swallow you forever. Those are but a few tricks Mara can pull, not to mention the harm ordinary shifters can cause you.” And there are a few shifters here in this hotel.

  “They hate me that much?” Nikita’s pulse raced.

  “They hate me that much.”

  Tristan rose and began to pace the room. He wanted to win her heart again, but after all this time, he grew impatient. The Nikita of his mortal life had been mostly docile and sweet, but she had possessed a hidden stubborn streak.

  That hadn’t changed much, he thought ruefully.

  “The potion I gave you has transformed your body. You now possess some of my powers, and my ability to journey from this world to Tir Na-nog without dying. However, the potion doesn’t make you invincible, like me. Nor immortal. You’re still vulnerable. And the effects are temporary. They will wear off in five more days. Unless I get you to my home in Tir Na-nog before those five days are up, the process will reverse and it will be…most unpleasant.” He sat and picked up her hand, marveling at the velvet softness of her skin.

  “More unpleasant than dying from the parvolupus?”

  He thought of the possibility of the potion wearing off and his chest tightened. “I will not allow that to happen. I will guard your time and keep watch.”

  Tristan rubbed his cheek against her hand. “Your mortal body is susceptible here on Earth, much as it was before you drank the potion. You can still die.”

  And that I will not allow to happen. And when you finally surrender in passion to me, and learn to trust me, there is a way to make you immortal so we can be together forever. Because otherwise, I will have to let you go in the end, for I have my duties as the Silver Wizard and I cannot live on Earth, nor can you live permanently in Tir Na-nog, unless you are as immortal as I am.

  The thought grieved him, but he set it aside. He must focus on her needs.

  Seeing her unhappiness, he added, “Perhaps after we have breakfast, we can go to the beach, if you remain at my side.”

  Niki smiled and the joy in that facial gesture made his own heart thump. Gods, he had loved her so much during their brief time as mates.

  Could she learn to love him again?

  Love isn’t necessary for what I was promised. Passion, yes. I will teach her passion, and let her own natural desire arise. Danu promised me an heir to continue my name so I will not be forgotten when the ages have passed and I have become naught but a memory. My son will be my legacy.

  Desire rose as he studied his past/future mate.

  The son I will plant in her belly.

  He nodded at the bathroom. “Go shower. I will order breakfast.”

  “Bacon,” she said, her eyes bright. “Lots of bacon. I’m starved. And a cheese omelet, and an English muffin, buttered, and oh, honey, not jelly.”

  He grinned. “You enjoy eating honey?”

  “Definitely.”

  Tristan thought of all the tantalizing ways he could use the honey. Smeared all over her body while he licked it off, very slowly…

  Not now. Later.

  But he would taste her. One small kiss as a reward for his patience. Staring at her mouth, he leaned forward. Niki shrank back. Biting back a frustrated sigh, he merely brushed his lips across her forehead, then went into the living room to give her privacy.

  Breakfast. He could conjure food, but perhaps she would enjoy room service. Decisions, decisions. Tristan phoned room service and placed an order for a plate of bacon, a cheese omelet with a buttered English muffin and honey, adding coffee, orange juice and for himself, Brie and toast.

  He sat at the armchair by the sliding glass door to wait. Sounds of the shower began, and Tristan closed his eyes, imagining his Nikita beneath the spray, droplets of water gleaming as they slid down her nude body, imagining her taking the soap into that sweet, honeyed warmth between her legs…

  He’d love to join her, wash her back and many other places. His body tightened and he reluctantly leashed his desire.

  A soft tap came at the door and suddenly a man materialized in the room. He glanced up. “Don’t you knock?”

  “I just did.” Xavier, the Crystal Wizard, strolled over to the sofa.

  The Crystal Wizard was one of the three other members of the Brehon, the judges and guardians of Others. Xavier ruled over trolls, ogres, nymphs and goblins. But while Tristan was busy with Nikita, Xavier promised to take over his duties temporarily, sharing the responsibility with Gideon, the Crimson Wizard and ruler of Fae.

  His brother wizard had long, dark curls tipped at the edges with white crystals, a bearded face and a tall, muscular frame. Known for his flamboyant dress, he had dressed in clothing outrageous even for him; a neon green sweater and tight white pants.

  “What are you wearing?” he asked.

  X looked down. “The latest fashion. I have heard of these trousers with sayings embroidered
on the back.”

  The Crystal Wizard turned around. On the back of his pants was embroidered the phrase “Sexy Thing.”

  Tristan rolled his eyes. “Those sayings are for sixteen-year-old girls. Not seven-hundred-year-old wizards, my friend. Did you visit the Mitchell Ranch?”

  “Yes. I did as Aiden asked.”

  “How are Aiden and Nia?” He was especially concerned about Nia, since she had been upset about being parted from her twin.

  “Very, very busy. Especially in the bedroom.” His blue gaze twinkled. “Nia is quite happy, and she can once more shapeshift into her wolf, but she and Aiden keep working the magick.”

  Good. Aiden would keep his mate distracted, and keep her from worrying about Nikita.

  “Do you have the report on Alexander for me?”

  Xavier handed him a roll of parchment. Tristan unfurled it and read the ancient, cramped script. The heir of the Drakon clan, Drust’s clan, Crown Prince Alex was headstrong, had a temper and was fiercely loyal. It seemed the one-hundred-fifty-year-old crown prince, who was only thirty-five in human years, was missing.

  Tristan knew exactly where the very important dragon shifter hid—with Drust, his dead great-grandfather in the afterworld of the Shadow Lands. And the prince refused to return home.

  Perfect.

  Now that he finally had his Nikita back, he would exact his revenge. Drust, the dragon shifter who had caused his capture nine centuries ago and caused his agonizing execution, would finally suffer for betraying Tristan.

  “What are you going to do to Drust? I thought you were only venturing to the Shadow Lands to take Nikita to Tir Na-nog.”

  Absorbed in the report, Tristan did not answer. The only way he could take Nikita to his home in Tir Na-nog was through the Shadow Lands, the purgatory for OtherWorlders who died and had to make amends in order to ascend to the heavenly afterworld. He rolled the parchment and handed it back to Xavier.

  “What are you planning to do to Drust?” Xavier repeated.

  “I’d kill him, but he’s already dead. I plan to take away the one thing he wants above all else. Drust cherishes his descendants.”