The Mating Destiny: Werewolves of Montana Book 7 Read online

  They were lined up like old-fashioned gunfighters he’d seen in a western on television. All four glowing with power, broad-shouldered, and each standing more than six feet tall.

  And very, very pissed off.

  “You interrupted my honeymoon, my precious time alone with my beautiful bride…for this nonsense?!” Tristan roared.

  “You are dragons! Brothers in the sky, and you squabble like children of humans! There will be NO MORE BLOOD SHED HERE TODAY!” Xavier’s deep voice sang out over the mountains and his eyes glowed a fierce white.

  Michael shuddered and held Anna closer. He had never, in his time in Tir Na-nog, heard his master use that thundering tone of voice.

  “Please, my liege, it was a fight to defend our lands.” Munroe’s voice cracked and he glanced at his king. “King Falmouth approved of it.”

  “I cannot leave my people undefended, Tristan. I will not pass into the next life knowing they are vulnerable to night attacks from the sky as they sleep.” The king stood on shaking, thin legs and Michael felt a ripple of pity. The ruler of Clan Tyrith’s White Mountain compound was kissing death’s door.

  “If you would stop raging at Clan Fury and strive for logic, you would see the black dragons never did have, nor will have, any intention of taking over your lands,” Gideon said in a deep, authoritative voice.

  “Or that the seeds Michael took were for me, and that I intend to use them to aid you,” Xavier growled.

  “Or that Michael, the one you accuse of stealing away one of your females, is Anna’s true mate,” rumbled Caderyn.

  Tristan nodded, his eyes glowing a fierce blue. “They are destined to be together and no war, not even dragon flames, can keep them apart. I will end this, here and now. I call for a formal endorsement of this union of dragons from Clan Fury and Clan Tyrith, for Michael, son of Neal, and Anna, daughter of Barlow, to be forever mated.”

  He looked at his fellow wizards. “So sayeth I, Tristan, the Silver Wizard. What sayeth the Brehon?”

  “I approve this union,” Xavier said. He held out his right hand, which glowed bright white.

  “I approve,” Gideon echoed. He held out his hand, glowing a deep crimson.

  “I approve,” Caedryn agreed. The Shadow Wizard’s right hand shone like mist sparkling in the sunshine.

  “I approve.” Tristan held out his hand, which pulsed with a silver glow.

  All four wizards laid their hands atop each other and suddenly there was a tremendous whoosh, as if the very air shredded. Incandescent flames of many colors burst out from their joined hands, such power that Michael could not look at the wizards.

  The surge of energy made his ears hurt and his eyes water. Several dragons gasped, and stepped backward. The flames died, and the wizards dropped their hands to their sides.

  An endorsement by the four wizards of the Brehon. Michael gripped Anna, his throat thick with tears. “She’s dying. How wonderful that you endorse our union when my mate, my love, will not live. Because of your hatred, Falmouth!” He turned his head and pointed a shaking finger at the king, who looked shame-faced.

  “And your hatred, Jasper! And that of your people, both of you. When will you learn that we are brothers in the sky? Not enemies?”

  Tears blurred his vision as he hugged Anna. “Maybe someday, but it will be too late for my Anna. My beautiful Anna. All she ever wanted was love, and acceptance after she shifted into dragon. Not violence and hatred.”

  Monroe looked stricken. “I am so sorry, Michael. I never meant to hurt her…I would never harm Anna.”

  “Your foolhardy action and hatred may have cost Anna her life,” Xavier warned. “Dragons are special and possess great potential for good. You must learn to work together, not fight each other.”

  Tristan approached him, and Michael held Anna tight. “Don’t touch her. Leave her alone. Let me have a few more minutes with her before you take her.”

  The Silver Wizard’s gaze was filled with compassion. “I am not taking her to Tir Na-nog, Michael. Do not be afraid. I am going to heal her.”

  He blinked hard, daring to hope.

  Tristan gave a wry smile. “I am on vacation. My honeymoon. I have a bride to return to and a cradle to fill. I have no time to escort dragons to Tir Na-nog. Especially dragons who are destined for great things.”

  Tristan’s hand pulsed with silver light once more. “Lay her on the ground and step back. I don’t want you to get hurt, and with this expenditure of power, you will.”

  After Michael eased Anna to the ground, the Silver Wizard placed his glowing hand upon her bloodied, burnt stomach. A silver glow encased her body. Tristan frowned and the glow increased.

  “She is more damaged than I realized, a whisper away from death. Dragonfire inflicts more damage than other wounds. I shall have to expend more power,” he murmured.

  Please, please heal her. Let my Anna live.

  The pulsing glow continued for a few minutes and then finally the light faded. Michael stared at his mate’s bared stomach.

  Gone was the wound. In its place was soft, smooth skin. Tristan patted Anna’s stomach.

  “Tough as steel now. Her transformation will continue, but healing her expedited the change.” He helped her to sit up.

  Michael rushed forward, dropped to the ground and embraced her.

  “Michael? What happened? The last thing I remember, I was hurting so badly. And then the pain vanished.”

  He brushed a kiss against her forehead and then shrugged out of his shirt, helping her put it on to cover her nudity. “Tristan healed you, my love. Everything is going to be all right.”

  After helping her to stand, he slid an arm around her waist. “What now?” he asked Tristan.

  Tristan glanced at the clans. “There will be a formal truce, and the one who breaks it will be destroyed. No mercy. No questions. Utterly destroyed and banished to the Shadow Lands.”

  Looking terrified, several dragons stepped back. The Shadow Lands were merciless to dragons who had died. There was a rumor that Drust, a dragon who had betrayed Tristan, lived there and ate other dragons for breakfast. And then they reanimated, only to be consumed again the following dawn by Drust’s snapping jaws.

  “As for you and Anna…” Tristan nodded at the Crystal Wizard. “Xavier has acted upon my absence to find you a new home, if you wish to move.”

  “Skylar and Sebastian of Clan Rhagos have graciously extended an invitation to both of you to join their clan in North Carolina. It will be neutral territory. You can hold your mating ceremony there as early as tomorrow. They understand how it is with true mates, and how eager you are to formally be unified.” Xavier folded his arms and swept the clans a severe look.

  “They are welcome in our clan,” King Falmouth said.

  “And welcome in ours,” added King Jasper.

  Michael’s jaw tightened as he thought of the violence that nearly ended Anna’s life. He looked down at his future mate. “It is your call, my love. You still have living family in your clan.”

  Her gaze turned sad as she looked at her father. “We cannot remain here, Michael. There will always be suspicion and a simmering hostility because you are a black dragon. Animosity cannot be vanquished overnight, not even with a formal truce. Maybe one day our children will return here. But not us.”

  Very well. He kissed her, feeling her mouth turn soft and pliant beneath his. “We will be mated tomorrow at sunset at the Clan Rhagos compound.”

  Epilogue

  After making love with his new mate, Michael Vincent left her sleeping and went outside their new cabin to gaze at the stars.

  Tonight they’d held a splendid feast at Skylar’s castle. They had invited both clans and nearly every dragon had accepted, celebrating their union as he formally took Anna to become his forever mate.

  King Falmouth from Clan Fury and King Jasper from Clan Tyrith sat side by side with their queens, talking with animation about dragon clan problems. Anna’s parents sat on the groom’s sid
e with their two younger daughters, beaming proudly. There was a good mix of red and black dragons, who all sat together.

  The truce would hold, and the dragons were attempting to unify.

  Monroe had kept apologizing profusely, to the point where Michael told him all was well, even though he still bore a slight grudge.

  But Xavier was right. Dragons must learn to work together. So he forgave the bastard, and tasked him with harvesting the rest of the Lumen seeds the next full moon, upon Xavier’s request.

  They had invited all the wizards, who politely declined, but sent wedding gifts. Xavier’s gift more than made up for his absence, for he’d freed Michael from his apprenticeship and any further service.

  Sebastian and Skylar were generous hosts. They gave them their own quarters on the compound, far enough away from the castle to have privacy, yet close enough to feel like part of the clan.

  Anna was delighted with their new clan. Here, on neutral territory, they would make their home. Michael’s skills in botany would prove useful and Sebastian had already hired experts to set up Anna’s computer so she could continue her web design business.

  Soon Anna’s belly would be filled with his son. He eagerly anticipated making his mate pregnant. A baby would further solidify the bond between Clan Fury and Clan Tyrith.

  Anna’s father would hold fast to the truce and when the dragonbaby arrived, Barlow would soften his heart and welcome his grandchild.

  Michael craned his neck and stared at the night sky. He shifted into his dragon form, still studying the stars. Xavier was right. A war was coming and they needed to be steadfast, and ready. All dragons had to be unified.

  Anna’s old man thought he was one of the most powerful dragons on earth. Indeed, Barlow had proved his might and worth when he nearly sacrificed his life to save his beloved daughter.

  But he didn’t know Michael’s secret, a secret the wizards of the Brehon held close.

  He stared at the stars, opened his mouth and breathed out a long line of fire. Not the fierce, hot red flames of ordinary dragons, nor the white-hot flames of Barlow and Monroe.

  Blue fire. The most powerful fire in the world, known only to be produced by the wizards of the Brehon themselves.

  Coldfire.

  Shifting back, he looked upward at the stars.

  And then Michael smiled.

  The Mating Destiny

  Werewolves of Montana Book 7

  Bonnie Vanak

  Chapter 1

  He was dragon and as long as he was dragon, it would be all right.

  Strong. Fire-breathing. Nearly invincible. Nothing, not even a battle ax forged from Dark Fae magick, could defeat him.

  Crown Prince Alexander d’Mateo de Drakon Tremaine sneered at his attacker, showing a cavernous mouth filled with sharp, jagged teeth that could punch through a Cadillac. The enemy danced out of reach of Alex’s mighty tail and swung the ax. Hard. It bit into Alex’s tough silver scales.

  Ow.

  Well, maybe the battle ax could defeat him. Alex glanced back at his rear left leg and the blood streaming from the wound.

  His cousin Maurice hefted the ax and laughed. “Got you.”

  Alex blew a stream of white-hot flames at him while lifting his middle claw. The flames poured over Maurice, not even singing his eyebrows nor his flame-retardant clothing. Fire slammed into the concrete fire barricade ringing the exercise compound of the palace. The compound was concrete and bare. No dainty hedges or pretty trees that could be scorched and burned.

  Maurice twirled the ax around, dancing behind Alex. “I was going for your balls, but they’re too small of a target.”

  Alex shifted back to Skin. Nude, he examined the wound, a neat cleft streaming blood on his left calf. He licked his palm and slapped it over the injury, which began to mend together beneath the application of his healing saliva. “You have lousy aim and I have very big balls. Your balls, on the other hand, are the size of marbles. How you can even get it up is a mystery.”

  Standing off to the side in their flame-retardant silver uniforms, his best friends Vincente, Nils, and Clayton hooted with laughter.

  “Marbles! Good one, Alex,” Nils called out.

  “Will you two pay attention! This is serious!” Drillmaster Vernon pointed at Alex. “Dark Fae forged metal can damage your very tough hide, Your Highness. You must learn to defend yourself properly from it.”

  Alex took the ax from Maurice. He tested the bloodied edge with one thumb, wincing as his bare skin made contact with the steel. Dark Fae magick, indeed. But the ax, a pricey purchase on the black market, was a rare antique, as were all Dark Fae forged weapons.

  “The chances of anyone getting close enough to take a shot with this are worse than the odds of Maurice getting laid tonight.” He tossed the ax to his cousin, who caught it with one gloved hand.

  “I can get laid more easily than you, cuz. I’m not the one getting married next week.”

  Alex flipped him the finger again, though his stomach knotted at the word “marriage.” How he’d miss these sessions with his friends and cousin, for they were the only true freedom he had from protocol and duty.

  That and the times he could find to hunt in the forest with Emma. Alex rubbed at his bare chest as he remembered how Em had been assaulted last month. Em, the half-Fae, half-dragon whose friendship had been forged two years ago after his father hired her to teach Alex how to hunt and track Fae in the forest.

  I shouldn’t have been late for our hunting session. Those damn meetings!

  Maurice grinned at him as they joined the others while the drillmaster sorted through weapons to use for the next session. “There’s always one of the dragon groupies. I can hook you up with one for your bachelor party.”

  “No, I will not dishonor Emma.”

  His friends and his cousin stared. Alex caught himself. “I mean, Sabrina. I have Emma on my mind from our last hunting session.”

  “I thought you were finished with those,” Maurice remarked. “Careful, cuz. Women don’t like it when you shout out another’s name when you come inside her.”

  “And you would know.” Alex punched Maurice’s arm. “You have so many names on your mind it’s a marvel you don’t read off a list while you’re having sex.”

  “Alexander. A word.”

  He turned and the others bowed low as his father walked into the courtyard. His father. The King of Clan Drakon, the warrior dragons. Silver dragons devoted in service to the Silver Wizard, one of the four immortal wizards of the Brehon, and judge of all shifters.

  Five immortal wizards, he amended. His great-grandfather Drust had recently become the Coldfire Wizard, guardian and judge to all dragons.

  Sighing, Alex waved a hand and conjured clothing—a starched white shirt, leather pants, and boots. He nodded at the old man and walked to the courtyard’s entrance.

  The king headed for the royal rose gardens, strolling down the cobblestone pathway. A marble fountain of a dragon, one claw lifted to the air, gurgled as they passed. All was serene here, but the stone fortress of the castle served as a constant reminder their clan once faced times of hardship and bloody war.

  The aroma of roses filled the air as they entered the garden. His father stopped before a bed of blood red roses and turned to him.

  “How are your military drills coming along? After next week, your duties will be taken up with formal meetings to ascend to the throne of Clan Ciamoth.”

  “I’m working at it, Father.”

  King George would sell his eldest son into an arranged marriage for the sake of peace. He studied his father, and the faint silver lining his black hair, the only indication of his 475 years.

  Dragons lived a long, long time.

  “You must be more serious when it comes to the battle ax, Alex. It could gravely injure you. I know you wish to have fun with your friends when you drill…you’re only 151 years old. You’re old enough to realize fun must come second to duty.”

  Alex tuned h
im out. It was the same old droning message, over and over. If he were Skin, the term OtherWorlders used for humans, he’d be only 25, and as old as the Skins he knew from college. They were still partying hard and didn’t have to worry about marriage and producing an heir. Or world peace for that matter.

  He stopped and with considerable effort, curbed his temper.

  “Any word on who hurt Emma last month?”

  He wanted to hire private, paranormal investigators, but Emma begged him to leave it alone. Alex had quietly asked his father to inquire about those who assaulted his friend.

  “No, I’m afraid her attackers have not been found. And about your friendship with Emma. It must end.” King George put a paternal hand on Alex’s bare shoulder. “Emma is a half-blood and of low birth. You are destined to rule and effect change. With Sabrina as your queen and your mate, there will be lasting peace between Clan Drakon and Clan Ciamoth.”

  Alex lifted a brow. “I didn’t know we were at war.”

  “The possibility is always there, son. With your marriage, our two clans will set an example. Eventually we will combine our kingdoms for the sake of lasting peace and perhaps all dragons will learn to tolerate our differences.” His father sighed. “I remember too well how many we have lost, and it is time for us to take that first step before we all destroy each other. Or the wizards step in and strip us of our power.”

  Unease filled him. Alex stared at his father. “That could actually happen? Drust would never allow it.”

  “Drust is a youngling wizard and does not bear much influence with the Brehon, yet. The decision would lie with Tristan and the three other judges of OtherWorlders.”

  The king reached down and snapped off a red rose. “Your mother adores these. I give her one every day. We’ve been mated 152 years, but I’ve never allowed the romance to leave our marriage. Remember that when you mate with Princess Sabrina, Alex. Ours was an arranged match as well. You will learn to love Sabrina.”

  “And if I choose not to marry and mate with her?” he burst out. “If I choose my own bride, one I love?”