The Mating Season: Werewolves of Montana Book 6 Read online

  And I have none. Not even the babe Nikita carried in her belly when I died.

  Xavier’s gaze narrowed. “You can’t kill the crown prince of Clan Drakon. Tristan, has the Florida sun overheated your brain?”

  “I have no desire to harm Alexander. But I will remove something that Drust cherishes.”

  “His balls?”

  “No. I would never do that to anyone, and inflict that agony on a man. Except perhaps Drust. It is not…a terrific feeling.”

  Blood drained from Xavier’s face. “That’s what they did when they killed you all those centuries ago?”

  “One of the things they did,” he said softly. “The others were brutal as well.”

  Tristan’s chest tightened as he remembered the agony of seeing Nikita’s tormented face watching his torture, hearing her screams echo his own. Though he tried hard to keep silent, the pain had grown intolerable and he screamed and screamed.

  Not the confession the Fae executioner wanted, but he cried his mate’s name over and over.

  Nikita!

  “Though I must admit feeling quite different after losing my balls. I suddenly had the urge to shop, sing soprano, wear my hair up in a snood and start asking, ‘Does this outfit make my ass look fat?’” He fingered his shoulder-length locks with a rueful smile.

  “Stop joking. This is serious.”

  Tristan blinked. “I am serious. Does this tunic make me look fat?”

  Xavier growled and flicked a finger at him. A crystalline bolt of energy sailed into the air and hit Tristan in the mouth. It bounced off his face and hit the wall instead, denting it. None of the four wizards of the Brehon had the ability to hurt the others. The rules Danu set up long ago were firm. They couldn’t fully share powers either or the punishment would be most grim, she’d warned them.

  “I am not going to hurt one hair on Crown Prince Alexander’s head. Trust me.” Tristan locked his gaze on his fellow wizard. “Are you willing to do what I asked you before?”

  Xavier waved a hand and conjured a pair of silver scissors. “Be quick about it. I am fond of my hair.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, he handed Tristan the scissors. Tristan took one of Xavier’s long, dark curls and snipped, cutting off the end where the crystals grew. Immediately another crystal appeared in its place.

  Palming the glittering lock, he studied it and then set down the scissors.

  “I am most curious. Why do you need one of my crystals?”

  “I will tell you everything later. Thank you for this.” He tucked the crystal into the pocket of his tunic as Nikita emerged from the bedroom, a hotel robe wrapped around her body.

  Both he and Xavier stood. Blood drained from her face as her gaze whipped back and forth between them. Tristan felt her agitation. Two powerful wizards, both over six feet tall, and quite intimidating.

  He hated seeing her fear. Tristan’s gaze dropped to her bare legs. She had very nice legs, but they were on display for Xavier’s admiring gaze.

  Xavier gave a small bow. “My lady Nikita. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Xavier, the Crystal Wizard.”

  Niki gave him a dubious look. “You’re one of the Brehon?”

  “He is leaving to attend to his duties, right now,” Tristan cut in.

  X’s blue gaze shot from Nikita to Tristan. “I can stay,” he offered.

  “No,” Tristan snapped.

  “So if you’re one of those other powerful wizards, maybe you can teach Tristan how to conjure proper clothing for a lady after she showers so she has no need of a hotel bathrobe,” Nikita said, her gaze alert as a frightened deer’s.

  Xavier laughed, but Tristan felt a stab of guilt. He had forgotten her most basic need. She must think him totally lame for neglecting her.

  Shivering, Niki wrapped her arms around herself. He felt her fear, smelled it as clearly as he scented the briny ocean breeze drifting from the open sliding glass doors. Two powerful wizards here with her, the Lupine who had remained locked away. Tristan sent a tendril of calming magick into the air and felt Niki’s pulse return to normal.

  Waving a hand, he clothed her in baggy sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt that displayed nothing. Niki blinked and looked down.

  She was still tempting and lovely. Perhaps sackcloth and ashes…

  Her huge blue gaze went from Tristan to Xavier.

  “Why are you here?” she asked Xavier. “Does it have to do with Mara?”

  Tristan stiffened. “He is here to do me a favor. It has nothing to do with Mara…”

  “Who is this Mara?” Niki asked. “If she is such a threat, why can’t you do something with her?”

  They exchanged glances. “It’s not that simple,” Xavier began.

  Enough. Nikita deserved the truth. “Mara is Gideon’s sister,” Tristan said. “Gideon, the Crimson Wizard.”

  Niki frowned and sat on the chair furthest from both of them. “And she is the one who tried to seduce you?”

  A note of faint jealousy rippled through her voice. Tristan wondered if she were even aware of it.

  “Mara assisted me during the Drakon War, after Gideon asked her to help us. And yes, she tried to seduce me, which is why I have avoided her all these centuries. She is the only living family Gideon has left, and it’s a quite delicate situation.”

  “Delicate?” Xavier snorted. “It makes politics in the United States Congress look like a day at the beach.”

  Niki yawned and stretched. “I’m so thirsty. It must be the effects of that potion you gave me.”

  Before he could even blink, she flicked a finger and a glass of water appeared in her hand. Xavier stared.

  “Whoa,” he said quietly.

  Whoa was right. Niki didn’t even seem to be aware of the enormity of what she’d done as she drank the water and then set down the glass on the table beside the chair. A chill raced down his spine. With these powers, could Nikita find a way to break free from him?

  It must not happen.

  He and X traded glances. Does she know? Xavier asked, using the Brehon’s special form of telepathy.

  No. I shall tell her.

  Dude, she has your powers.

  All of our powers, he told his friend. For the potion contained your blood as well as Cadeyrn’s and Gideon’s. But only droplets.

  A droplet of our power is more powerful than gallons of the most potent shifter’s magick. Then telepathy is next. Be careful, Tristan. If one of your shifters discovers she is endowed with the Brehon’s magick, they could use her against you.

  He knew this and flashed Xavier a warning with his eyes, letting them surge to bright blue, signaling the rise of his powers.

  “Fine,” X said aloud. “Just a friendly warning.”

  As the Crystal Wizard stood and went to the door to look at the ocean view, he displayed the back of his trousers.

  Niki stared at Xavier’s buttocks. “Nice pants.”

  Tristan growled deep in his throat. Turning, X looked delighted. “Why Tristan, are you snarling at me? I have never heard you growl.”

  “I can do more than growl.” He went to Nikita, sat on the chair’s armrest and slid an arm around her shoulders, unable to prevent his protective streak. “Take those trousers off.”

  X began to laugh. “Truly?”

  “And put on normal clothing,” he snapped.

  Still chuckling, the Crystal Wizard waved a hand and covered himself in nothing but a lime green Speedo bathing suit, displaying his long legs and other assets. “Better? We are in Florida.”

  Nikita’s eyes widened. “Oh…my.”

  Tristan covered her eyes with his palm. “Get out of here, X.”

  The wizard waved a hand and dressed himself in blue jeans and a football jersey. “You don’t like my style? The ladies say I look good in green.”

  He removed his palm. “Honestly, Xavier, with your manner of dress, how you can attract a date is beyond me.”

  Even as the words slipped out of his mouth, Tristan remembered Cia
ra, the nymph Xavier had loved.

  Xavier’s smile dropped. He looked distant and sorrowful. Remembering the reason for his friend’s emotions, Tristan felt a pinch of guilt.

  “I am sorry,” he said, meaning it. “I forgot.”

  His friend shrugged. “I cannot have a relationship with Ciara. She was not promised to me, and I will not neglect my duties to form attachments. Cadeyrn told me I will see her again, and she will play a role in my recovery.”

  Tristan’s curiosity rose. Cadeyrn was the most powerful of the four wizards and more than any of them, he had the ability to foresee the future. “From what?”

  Xavier frowned. “He was very vague.”

  Xavier was expert at hiding his feelings, but Tristan knew how much the nymph had meant to his friend. He went to the dining table and traced a few runes on the surface, bringing up a window to the future. Each wizard could see vague glimpses into the future of each other’s lives, but not their own.

  Mist shrouded the vision, but he saw enough to make his blood run cold.

  Ciara would play a role in Xavier’s recovery, but what the Crystal Wizard would suffer was a direct effect of something having to do with Nikita. A chill raced down Tristan’s spine.

  He waved a hand and the window vanished. No use upsetting Xavier or Nikita.

  “Ciara will indeed be part of your future, my friend. She will be very important to you, and you will see her again, soon.”

  The Crystal Wizard blinked, and his mouth curled into a smile. Then he shuttered his expression. “Thanks, but I refuse to live in the past, or wait for the future any longer. However, I am most pleased that Tristan has found you at last, my lady Nikita. He has waited long enough.”

  Xavier gave her a gentle smile. “If you need me, call upon me. I am here for both of you.”

  With a meaningful look at Tristan, he waved a hand and vanished.

  Niki’s blue gaze was huge as she stared at the place Xavier had occupied. “I don’t know if I shall ever get used to that. Who is Ciara? Her name made him sad.”

  Tristan felt another ominous shiver race down his spine. “Ciara is a nymph who made Xavier love-struck. He is the guardian and judge of nymphs. But we of the Brehon are not to form attachments with our charges, so he let her go.”

  “And I’m a Lupine, yet here you are, with me.” She gave him a pointed look.

  “What we have is different. You were promised to me ages ago when I became the Silver Wizard.”

  Nikita knit her dark gold brows. “Why was he here? Are you expecting others?”

  He gently tweaked her nose. “No others. I plan to keep you alone, for myself.”

  “So you can seduce me?”

  Tristan’s mouth thinned. No, I am saving that moment for my home, when I can relax at last and don’t have to worry about protecting you from a fire, flood, landslide or a mad Fae turning you into a toadstool. Even with your powers, which will not last, you do not know how to protect yourself from these dangers, my sweet. You have been sheltered too long by Lupines.

  He was saved from answering by a knock at the door. The waiter wheeled in a cart filled with covered dishes and set up breakfast at the dining table. Tristan signed the bill, adding a healthy tip. When the waiter left, he studied the food and added a slice of raw liver to Niki’s plate.

  As she sat, he told her, “Eat the liver first. Your wolf needs the fresh meat after your illness.”

  He cut a slice of the liver, forked it and held it to her mouth. She parted her lips and he slid the food inside, hiding a smile.

  Did Niki realize that taking food from his hand was an indication of acceptance of becoming his mate? Traditional Lupine ceremonies had the male feeding the female as a symbol that he would provide for her.

  Tristan handed her the fork. Provide for her in many ways, both in feeding her and taking care of her sexual needs as well.

  Careful. He needed to leash his rising desire, lest he fall into a mating frenzy. Mating frenzies affected male Lupines who had been denied their mates’ touch for too long.

  I’d say that nine hundred years is far too long to be denied her touch…

  As she began to eat, she made little sounds of pleasure that heated his blood. Ah, he would enjoy hearing those sounds when he had her in bed at last…

  “Aren’t you eating?” she asked.

  “I don’t require food. I enjoy the taste from time to time, but I have no need of it.”

  She picked up a slice of bacon. “Why?”

  “I renew my energy differently than from caloric intake.”

  “How?”

  He reached over and took a slice of bacon, feeding it to her. She opened her mouth and he popped the morsel inside, relishing how she enjoyed the treat.

  “It is a secret, my sweet.”

  “A big secret?” Her gaze darkened. “Tell me. I hate secrets. I’ve lived my whole life as a secret.”

  “There are some questions I cannot answer right now. That knowledge lies within certain parameters of the forbidden.”

  Niki finished the bacon and dug into her omelet. “I can see this will be a one-sided relationship. You hold all the power, all the knowledge. And I’m a cute little accessory for you, like a scarf.”

  Tristan’s temper began to rise. “Hardly. As you can see from my manner of dress, I am not prone to accessorizing.”

  She sipped her orange juice. “I know. You wore the same thing the day the Fae King executed you.”

  His cold heart raced as she stared at him and set down the glass with a shaky hand. “Dear goddess, why did I remember that? It just came to my mind…that image. It was horrid.”

  Niki’s chest rose and fell with the rapid increase of her breath. She hugged herself again, moisture gathering in her eyes.

  Tristan slipped into the past.

  He could feel the hard wood beneath his bare feet, hear the angry, derisive shouts of the Fae crowd, the agony of the lacerations that had abraded his flesh…and see Nikita screaming as she stood nearby and they forced her to watch, her hand reached out toward him as King Emer’s chief executioner picked up the gleaming hook to tear into his skin…

  He took a deep breath, regained his composure and sat beside her. Picking up her hand, he squeezed it. “Breathe. Deep breaths. You’ll get through this.”

  Two fat tears slipped down her cheeks. Gently, he traced one with his thumb and then brought it to his mouth. It tasted bitter, like vinegar, laced with a touch of honey. How he had longed to do that the day they brought him in chains to be tortured before the crowd for starting the rebellion to gain freedom from the Fae for shifters. How he’d wanted to comfort her, assure her she would be fine and he would always be there for her in spirit, for neither heaven nor hell would keep him from her side…

  Tristan picked up her hand and rubbed it against his cheek, deeply shaken, but knowing he must hold together emotionally. She walked unknown territory in the memory of his death, while this was a familiar path upon which he had paced back and forth for more centuries. And despite the time that passed, his death still haunted Tristan, for he always saw her screaming and crying, reaching out to him as his spirit fled his body…

  “I don’t remember anything else, except that. If you and I were mates in a past life, why do I recall your death? I don’t want to remember that!” She wiped her eyes with the linen napkin.

  How he wished he could purge that terrible time from her memory. He could not protect her from remembering the horror and terror. “The most powerful and emotional memories are returning to you first.” He stroked her shaking hand as she rested it on the table. “It is a nasty side effect of the potion. I had hoped for something much more enjoyable, such as the time we got naked and played chess in bed. I recall that I took your bishop that day, but you did the most amazing things with my king.”

  At last, he thought with relief as she smiled. “I dare not ask exactly what I did, but I suspect when you say ‘king’ you don’t mean the chess piece.”
/>   Tristan kissed the back of her hand. “Let us forget the past for a while. Finish eating, to regain your energy, and we’ll walk on the beach so you may find seashells.”

  As she began to eat again, he went over to the sliding glass doors. Waving a hand, he changed his clothing to a gray T-shirt, black cotton cargo shorts and black flip-flops.

  His hand trembled as he traced a rune on the clear glass for protection. He wanted her to remember the love they had shared, and the passion, and learn to trust him again.

  But how could she recall those emotions when all she could recall was the horrid way the Fae King killed him? Soon, she would soon remember the terrible words he had told her shortly before he died.

  Tristan’s chest tightened. I’ll deal with that when it comes. And hopefully in nine hundred years, she has learned to forgive me…

  Chapter 3

  After breakfast, she brushed her teeth using the hotel supplies, and then asked Tristan to provide her with shorts and a T-shirt. The baggy sweatpants and sweatshirt were too ugly and warm.

  He waved a hand and clad her in a shapeless gray dress that draped down to her ankles.

  Hands on hips, Niki gave him a pointed look. “Sackcloth would do better.”

  With a sigh, he waved another hand.

  “I left clothing on the bed for you, so you may choose to dress yourself as you wish.”

  Delighted, she went into the bedroom. There were piles of clothing, neatly stacked upon the bed. Underwear first.

  She picked up a pair of white granny panties and sighed. “Oh Tristan. Seriously?”

  Bras, none with the lace and colors she liked. But at least he’d conjured clothing that was suitable. She chose a pretty pair of white shorts that came to mid-thigh, and a blue scooped-neck pullover shirt with lace scalloped sleeves. Niki slid her feet into a pair of white sandals with little blue gemstones and gave a happy sigh.

  Life had changed drastically in the past day, but she would live in the moment, not fret about the future. After spending twenty-five years never leaving her father’s ranch, she was going to enjoy her first walk on the beach. Freedom at last!