The Mating Ritual: Werewolves of Montana Book 9 Page 4

  Oren snapped his fingers and a rolled parchment appeared on the table in the cell, along with a feather quill.

  Gideon held up a hand. “Before I sign, one question. Your daughter Alia has said nothing about this arrangement. Does she not have a voice in the matter?”

  King Oren barely glanced at his daughter. “No. She serves a purpose—for your pleasure and to breed heirs. Nothing more.”

  Gideon locked gazes with the king. “And my purpose?”

  Oren smiled. “Fill my daughter’s belly with your sons and you shall fulfill your end of the bargain. Marry my daughter and give me a grandson in ten moons, and I will give your father, the Winter King, the territory he craves.” Oren’s gaze was sly. “Cantabria.”

  Power and land. It had always been thus. But this time, Gideon suspected Oren had another motive.

  He studied a fingernail as if bored. “That is my sire’s want. What of mine?”

  “Your want is my daughter to fuck all night and make babies with her.”

  “Maybe I want more than a mere fucking. I am a Dark Fae and you know our deviant streak. But that is not something I wish to discuss in front of my future bride. Why make her uncomfortable now while she is still a maiden?” Gideon glanced at Alia. Blood had drained from her face.

  Oren laughed and the guards joined in. “I chose well. Moxley was not a true Dark prince as you are, with your kind’s sexual needs.” He looked at the guards. “Get out. And take her with you.”

  Two guards marched Alia out of the cell, closing the door behind them.

  Oren licked his lips. “What do you want to do with my daughter? Bondage? Sadism?”

  The Summer King had no protective streak toward his offspring. Only greed and rank curiosity shone in his face.

  Gideon shrugged. “What I plan to do in the bedchamber is none of your damn business. I’ll order the usual wedding night sex toys from my kingdom. What I want from you is a place in your court, a place of high honor, close to you as Moxley was.”

  Suspicion filled Oren’s expression. “Why? Your kind detests my court and I was told by your emissary that you favor this arrangement for the female pleasure.”

  Opening up his Dark Fae senses, he felt a touch of greed and lust coming from Oren. And envy.

  Oren envied Dark Fae magick. One reason to seal this union between the two kingdoms.

  Perhaps he plans to drain my magick.

  Gideon settled for the one assumption about all Dark Fae.

  “Indeed. It is why I desire to be a close member of your court, which I have heard contains much beauty. Why fuck one female when one has an entire buffet as well?”

  Oren laughed and slapped him on the back. Gideon resisted the urge to wipe the spot the king had touched.

  “Well said. I will grant you a place in my court, but as for higher honors, you must earn them as you earn my favor.”

  “Fair enough,” Gideon agreed.

  He read through the marriage contract and his stomach clenched with hard regret. It was nearly the same as his own father had drafted a thousand years ago when Gideon had sworn to marry Eleanor.

  His love. His only love.

  This was no marriage of love, but strategic diplomacy, to preserve peace between the two kingdoms that had seen too much bloodshed over many millennia. Personal feelings weren’t important. Only status and titles mattered here.

  The delicately penned paragraph at the bottom held the largest threat. Gideon read it twice.

  If either party in the marriage contract should cause bodily harm to the other through an attempt at assassination, the sire of that party has the right to demand blood vengeance from the sire of the offender and the peace between the two kingdoms shall be broken.

  Darkness and death filled Oren’s smile, shadowed with ageless blood and violence as Gideon tapped the contact. “Is this part necessary?”

  “I added that section. If you kill my daughter or attempt to kill her, I will go to war against your father. Your father has the same right if my daughter kills or attempts to kill you.”

  This section had not been in the original contract. Immediately all his suspicions rose. He could almost hear Tristan’s amusement at this. You’d better be very nice to your bride, my friend. Ten orgasms a night, not just one, and maybe she won’t try to take your balls.

  It is not my balls I am worried about, Tristan.

  “The Crimson Wizard may not agree,” Gideon murmured.

  “It does not matter. The contract terms were approved by the goddess.” Oren’s smile grew wider, slyer. “So you and Alia must learn to tolerate each other unless you desire bloodshed and centuries of war. Both of you are the keepers of the truce between our kingdoms.”

  Marriage to Alia when his heart belonged to Eleanor. Alia of the woeful eyes and the fiery spirit. The pen hesitated in his hand. Gideon closed his eyes for a minute.

  Forgive me, Eleanor. I must do this to keep the peace, and find the evil shadowing this kingdom.

  His hand now steady, Gideon signed the marriage contract. A guard gave him a ceremonial silver dagger, the hilt encrusted with jewels, to put his blood upon the parchment as a seal.

  After doing so, he tested the blade in his hand as Oren rolled up the parchment. A good weight and a good weapon.

  “I will keep this as a token of our arrangement,” Gideon told the king.

  Shrugging, Oren took the parchment, rolled it up. “It is a dull blade. No magick. Come, I shall send you to the Great Hall. Dinner is about to commence. You shall sit at my right hand.”

  Gideon felt himself pulled through time and space.

  He materialized inside the dining hall. A royal guard escorted him to the seat to the right of the throne.

  After sitting, Gideon touched the dagger at his waist. Soon, he would have a wife to cherish and protect. No matter what else happened, he would honor Alia and keep her safe.

  The game with Oren and his court had begun.

  But how it would end, he knew not.

  2

  Tomorrow was her wedding day, but she still sat at the low end of the royal table, lower than the salt.

  At her father’s right hand sat her future groom, talking with the king as if they had been lifelong friends. Odd, considering King Oren was seventeen hundred years old and Lord Gideon was…

  Older than her, though he looked no more than thirty. Alia was twenty-five, quite young for a Fae, but not for the virginal daughter of the Summer King. Judging from his slight air of arrogance, Lord Gideon must have seen at least a century. Certainly he was more confident than the courtiers who fawned and preened in the king’s presence, currying favor.

  The Unseelie prince sat at the place usually reserved for Mauricio, the crown prince. Mauricio had not joined them. Alia knew her half-brother had chosen not to dine with their father in more than a month, preferring meals in the quiet privacy of his apartments. He made appearances in court when requested by the king, but otherwise avoided their father’s company.

  She wished she could do the same tonight. But at least here she could study her groom.

  With his dark gold hair, burning blue eyes, strong, aristocratic face and full mouth, Gideon was the most striking and handsome Fae at the table. The black clothing was snug against his muscled body, the leggings showing the curve of muscled calf and thigh. Gideon did not resemble a foppish Fae with a penchant for fashionable clothing and drink.

  He was all hard edges, a blade ready to slice iron. A true warrior Fae. And yet he had kindness in him. Gideon had left his seat to greet her when she entered the dining hall. He’d touched her hand and she’d felt a jolt, as if they’d been connected in some fashion. He’d looked startled as well, but then had to return to his seat when Oren impatiently summoned him.

  Since she was a royal daughter, Alia sat to the right of the youngest lord with the least influence in the Summer Court. King Oren thrived on dishing out crumbs of attention to the lords, who fought over them like dogs over bones.

>   All the women of the court sat to her right. No woman, not even the king’s First Wife, held a place of high esteem at the table.

  Lord Negelim, desperate for attention from her father, shouted out to Gideon. “Lord Gideon, are you much anticipating tomorrow night when you are in the marriage bed with your bride?”

  Silence draped the table.

  Gideon’s square jaw tightened. He picked up his wine goblet, drank, appearing to ignore the crude question.

  But no one looked at the Unseelie prince. Instead, they craned their necks, watching the Summer King, awaiting his response.

  “Of course he is,” her father drawled. “He is deeply anticipating it.”

  Ripples of laughter from the men followed. Sensing an opening, Negelim looked at her.

  “Deep. Very deep. Balls deep.”

  What a contemptible ass. Alia bristled as she glared at the laughing Lord Negelim and his friends.

  “Deeper than you ever can manage,” she shot back. “Lord Negelim, you are as deep as a puddle. In philosophy and I am certain…other matters.”

  Suppressed titters from her handmaidens, and a few guffaws from the men. Gideon’s mouth twitched upward in a brief smile. He lifted his goblet in her direction and nodded.

  Blood drained from Lord Negelim’s face. He stood, walked over to her and slapped her hard. Alia reeled backward, her cheek burning with pain, her humiliation flaring hot.

  Sheer will enabled her to check tears of rage. One did not cry at the Summer King’s table.

  Judging from the harsh laughter around the table, there would be no retribution.

  Suddenly Gideon left his seat. He flung out his hands and Lord Negelim sailed backward, slamming into the stone wall. Tapestries shook and even the elegant silver sconces trembled. Negelim sank to the ground with a moan, holding his head.

  Gideon raked a cool gaze over the table and the startled young lords.

  “The next person who dares to lay a hand on my intended will receive much worse. She is mine and mine alone to touch.” His mouth flattened.

  With a gentle hand, he touched her cheek, the move reminding her of the time when the Crimson Wizard himself healed her injury. This Fae had no such powers, but his warm palm upon her skin felt soothing.

  “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

  Alia nodded, deeply shaken at such dark power much as his touch calmed her. She did not want him protecting her.

  It was better to have distance in their relationship. I cannot afford your compassion. Better your contempt. Even though every fiber of her being longed for his touch, and cherished it, for it was ripe with tenderness she seldom felt.

  Alia thanked Gideon. She picked up her glass of water and drank. No wine, for she must keep her wits.

  “Be strong, as I know you are,” he murmured.

  Gideon rested his hand for a minute on her shoulder, and he squeezed gently, almost as if in warning.

  Like the young lords, she craved attention and praise. Not from her father, no, she had given up on him years ago. And she had discovered his attentions could be deadly, as she’d witnessed when Oren turned his wrath upon her mother…

  I am flawed. I am not perfect. But I am a person and I deserve more than crumbs of flattery. I deserve more than the hard slap of an overbearing, arrogant lord.

  Silence was her best defense. She could not risk talking and perhaps spill even mundane details, for there were spies everywhere in her father’s castle.

  Spies eager to gain favor with the Summer King, who would murder their own mothers for a morsel of power Oren deigned to bestow.

  Gideon seemed kind and caring. But they were not married yet. She expected things would be different once they were bonded. She must remain cautious and true to her assignment of assassinating her groom.

  Her mouth constantly got her in trouble. If Gideon anticipated a babbling bride, filled with conversation, he would indeed be surprised.

  Gideon hated silence. He had the uncomfortable feeling his bride would not open to him.

  I need to work with you, for you to trust me and tell me all you know about this kingdom and how I may navigate it. Do not shut me out, Alia.

  Fury filled him at the callous attitude of the men in this court, at the Summer King’s disregard of his daughter’s welfare. He’d known the balance had tipped when he appeared here last month in his full power as the Crimson Wizard.

  But treatment of women had never been this vile. Ten years ago, when he’d made an appearance here to marry a royal lord and his lady, the men had revered women. Female Fae had held positions equal to the men. Some had even been elevated over them.

  What in seven hells had happened to this court? Oren had never been this cold and cruel.

  Playing the role of a Winter Court prince engaged to a Summer Court princess was one matter. He would not stand by and watch his bride be abused by others. Even if it meant growing closer to her father, and gaining information he needed to find the true source of evil infiltrating Oren’s palace.

  Letting his hand rest on Alia’s shoulder for a moment longer, he enjoyed the feel of delicate bone and sinew beneath the high-collared white wool dress. Alia was lovely, a true Fae beauty.

  But it was her fiery spirit that awakened the jaded soul within him. It roused him faster than if she had put her pink, soft mouth around the flesh of his cock.

  Gideon bent and murmured into her ear. “Have you need of me, simply call me.”

  He returned to his seat, ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the younger lords and the open contempt of King Oren.

  Contempt that masked a slight fear, for he detected it beneath Oren’s heavy, fruity natural scent. Oren might show contempt but he also felt awe at Gideon’s prowess with dark Fae magick.

  Odd, though. He’d never held the power to use telekinesis while he’d been a Dark Fae prince. Only when he’d gained his powers as Crimson Wizard could he perform such actions.

  Gideon itched to test his powers now, alone and away from prying eyes. Hard to do in this castle, where he suspected there were many spies eager to tell the king everything they overheard and saw.

  I touched Alia after she came into the dining hall and felt a surge of pure power.

  Ridiculous. Such tremendous magick could kill a young Fae like Alia.

  Having no appetite for the roast pig, nor the candied fruit and spiced wine, Gideon drank from his water goblet.

  King Oren toyed with his silver fork. “You have a reputation as a womanizer, a scoundrel and a powerful Fae, Lord Gideon. This talent you display as an advocate for our females is quite…interesting.”

  Oren made interesting sound as if it were as loathsome as squashing cockroaches.

  “In my kingdom, the more power a male possesses, the more he is required to use it for the greater good to defend those of less power.” Gideon kept his voice mild, his tone respectful.

  “What a waste,” Oren muttered. “Power should be spent on keeping order, not spoiling females. If one does not keep the order and discipline in a family, chaos breaks out. Women should be seen, admired, and not heard. They need to keep their mouths shut.”

  Small wonder Alia mainly kept quiet. Gideon spared a brief glance at his bride.

  “Do you agree with me?” Oren asked him.

  Everyone at the table stopped talking. Gideon knew this was a test. He stroked a finger idly down the stem of his crystal goblet.

  “I disagree with you, King Oren, for there are exceptions.”

  Gasps fluttered down the table.

  Oren narrowed his gaze. “Such as?”

  “There are times one enjoys a woman’s mouth open, such as when she is on her knees, pleasuring you.” He picked up his goblet, drank deeply and licked his mouth. “Or when she is screaming her own pleasure.”

  Oren threw back his head and bellowed with laughter. Courtiers followed his example. At the table’s other end, the women remained silent.

  But Alia stared at him boldly, her body tens
e as a warrior tenses before battle.

  Gideon set down his cup. “Men in my kingdom know that to pleasure a woman enhances one’s own pleasure. We are taught to know each inch of the female body, learn what they enjoy, for every woman is different in her erogenous zones. It makes us better lovers.”

  As the table fell quiet, Gideon added in a voice loud enough for all the women at the end to hear, “And I have personally found that allowing a woman to state her opinion, and listening to what she has to say, has made far more stimulating conversation than the dull bores at court who fawn and flatter.”

  Alia blinked fast as if surprised. Her gaze fell to her plate.

  Her father chuckled. “You bring strange views to my table, Lord Gideon. You will learn that in the Seelie Kingdom, there is no need to treat women with respect, because here, we teach them their place. Warriors have no need to pander to women.”

  Gideon’s gaze went to his bride. “On the contrary, King Oren, warriors have great need of women.”

  “Men in my kingdom are too busy fighting to worry about the art of love. That skill is for Fae too weak to fight.”

  After removing the ceremonial dagger sheathed at his waist, Gideon began playing with it, twirling it around. Nobles watching the move shuddered. Eyes widened.

  Gideon smiled. “Some of us, King Oren, are experts in both.”

  He put away the blade, noting with satisfaction that the topic changed to hunting stags in the Mystic Forest. Gideon drank more water, eager to get the foul taste of this court out of his mouth. He had made a point. Now was not the time to press further. Instead, he turned the conversation over to a safe topic—the rules of the court. Acting as if he wanted to fit in and obey.

  When he had no intention of doing any such thing.

  As Oren and his minister informed Gideon, Alia kept studiously ignoring him. But once in a while he caught her looking his way, as if trying to gauge what he was made from.

  Tomorrow night, they would both find out.

  He smiled.

  But for now, he tired of the politics and games of this court and the sly innuendos. He wanted to know more about his bride.