The Mating Season: Werewolves of Montana Book 6 (15 page)

His quiet concern touched her. Immortality sounded like a most tempting option. To never die, and never again have the grief of knowing her child died with her, or that their child would never die, either. “What’s the problem with that?”

“Drinking the potion comes with a terrible sacrifice.”

“
And
?”

He opened and closed his fist. “You will never be allowed to see your family again. You must remain in Tir Na-nog. With me.”

Niki’s heart squeezed tight. “Never see my twin again?”

“No.”

“Never even visit for a brief while? Never see my pack again? Or visit Nia and Aiden when they have children?”

“No.”

Tears filled her eyes. “What kind of choice is that? You or my family?”

“It is the way of the afterworld, Nikita,” he said gently. “But the choice will be yours. But I will become mortal as you so we may have ten days together to create our babe, ten days to relive what we lost. And if you decide against drinking the potion, you must return to Earth and I will return to my responsibilities as the Silver Wizard.”

Life as a single mom? No mate at her side. “This sounds terribly one-sided. You get your heir and I get to raise him alone, even if I become immortal, because you’ll never be home.”

Tristan stood, pulling her with him. He towered over her, and his physical presence reminded her of his immense power and strength. He could crush her like a bug if he chose. “We shall have more time together and can live together in my home in Tir Na-nog if you drink the potion. If you don’t, you will return to your pack at the Mitchell Ranch and be there with them. Aiden and Nia will ensure nothing happens to you.”

His expression tightened. “I trust Mitchell, and your sister loves you. I shall watch over you, always.”

Her fate was lined out just as it had been from the time of her birth. She hated this. Always she’d longed for love and passion. And now, to learn she could experience one, but not the other unless she lost her family, left her empty and embittered. Always she’d longed for adventure and to travel and experience life. Each time she watched a movie or read a book, Niki had wistfully imagined leaving the ranch and sailing across the world to indulge in other cultures and countries.

Tristan restricted her life as much as her family had. Perhaps that’s what the prophecy truly meant—he would kill her dreams, not her physical body.

“Seems the only choices I have are pretty damn sucky. But can I have an hour to say good-bye to my ranch?”

“Of course.”

He seemed so polite, and distant, she wondered if she’d offended him with her assertions. But she refused to be a meek doormat, without a mind of her own. Hadn’t she been stripped of enough choices while living here?

Nikita raised her arms and summoned her magick. Feeling the familiar tug in her belly, and the delightful tingle race down her spine, she smiled.

And shifted into wolf.

Her senses exploded as if someone had tossed a bucket of cold water into her muzzle. Invigorated and exhilarated, she felt like a super wolf, able to leap up one mountain and forge onward to the next.

Tristan’s gaze softened. “You are so beautiful in wolf form, Nikita.”

Tilting back her head, she gave a long, low howl, expressing all the emotions she’d felt since Tristan had spirited her away from her home. Sadness. Joy at walking on the beach. Fear and sexual excitement. The latter had her pawing at the ground. He was right. She was coming into her heat soon, and her wolf wanted to run wild and free…and mate.

Run wild and free, yes. Mate…
no
. How could she raise a child when she hadn’t even lived as an adult herself, yet?

I can escape him. I can find a way. But he’s right for now. I can’t stay here or I’ll die. Death is not a good option.

Scenting a rabbit nearby, she turned her head and bounded down the pathway, toward the old barn and the bonfire pit. Chasing prey was the best way to distract her wolf from the sexual urges shooting through her.

“Nikita, wait!”

But she paid him no mind. Blood hummed in her veins as she darted through the woods, crashing through underbrush, leaves crunching beneath the heavy tread of her paws. As wolf, she felt an energy her body in Skin had lacked.

She bolted up the mountain, ignoring the fact that suddenly her legs felt leaden and heavy. Still, she pressed on, needing this, needing to feel normal.

Even though deep inside, she knew this was not normal. She was losing strength again, even as wolf.

The scent of rabbit grew stronger and suddenly she saw it, a plump one, quivering by a tree. Nikita had no desire to kill the woodland creature. She merely thrilled to the chase.

A chase that was slowing down, for she could not run any longer. Niki loped toward the prey.

The rabbit suddenly shape-shifted before her eyes. Gone was the scared, quivering mammal, replaced by a creature out of her worst nightmares.

It was as long as a rattlesnake, with a slimy red body and razor sharp teeth lining its jaw. It looked like a worm, but it was as thick as a log. Hissing, it struck at the tree and sank its fangs into the oak.

The tree withered and died before her astonished eyes.

Snarling, she backed away, slowly…

And howled as the steel claws of a trap snapped around one of her back paws. Niki pulled in vain, her wolf instinct overriding the sensible human knowledge that the action would only tear her flesh. The steel jaws of the trap held her in place as the worm slid toward her. Jaws opening, it reared up, its yellow slitted eyes almost like a dragon’s.

“NikitaaaaaBlakmore,” it hissed.

She howled louder.
Tristan! Tristan!

“You will die in the Shadow Lands,” the worm hissed. “You will never become Tristan’s mate.”

Snarling, she snapped at the worm as it drew closer.

And then Tristan appeared at her side. He stood, powerful and strong, and pointed a finger at the worm.

“Be gone!” he roared.

The worm vanished into a shower of dust.

Whining, she sat back on her haunches, unable to shift back into Skin, the pain lancing through her back paw. Mingling with the pain was a deep confusion. What had happened to her beloved forest? Her land? Tristan said the forest was cleansed, but clearly, something evil had taken hold of it.

She collapsed, unable to stand the pain any longer. Lying on the ground, twigs and leaves in her fur, her sides heaving from the force of her panting, Nikita stared up at the darkening sky. Tristan was right. There were dangers in this world, and not only from her body growing weaker. Even her wolf provided little defense against such powerful forces.

She might as well have been on a strange ranch, in strange woods. This was no longer her familiar home turf.

Kneeling down, he stroked her head. “Nikita, I told you to wait for me. Why did you not listen?” he said, and there was disappointment twined with the concern in his voice.

Tristan snapped his fingers, and the trap vanished, along with the stinging pain. He laid a hand upon her bleeding paw and warmth spread through her. He healed her, just as when she’d fled from him in fear, the great and terrible Silver Wizard. With a gentle hand, he examined her body.

“No damage.” He stood, his relief evident. “You can shift back now.”

Niki shifted back into Skin, but lacked the strength to clothe herself. Shivering, feeling stupid and weak and ashamed, she curled into a ball.

She was growing weaker, just as Tristan had predicted.

Sighing, Tristan waved a hand, clothing her in jeans and a long-sleeved cotton shirt and boots. Finally, the awful chill left her bones.

“T-thanks.” Her teeth still chattered. “Wh-what
was
that thing?”

“A death worm.” Tristan pulled her close, running a hand down her back, and she relished his body heat. “They are a manifestation from the Shadow Lands. Ancient Others with tremendous powers can summon them at will.”

“Why was it after me?”

She felt his chest rise and fall in a deep sigh, as if she’d exasperated him. “I told you, Nikita, I have enemies. They would do anything to hurt you, for it would hurt me. They use dark magick to manifest creatures like the worm. There are many more in the Shadow Lands that you may encounter. There is great danger and you must never drop your guard. Stick close to me at all times.”

“What kinds of other creatures?” She lifted her head and peered upward at the tree tops. “Giant spiders?”

“Sometimes. Only those spiders do not spin webs of silk, but a corrosive hemp that burns mortal skin.” Tristan’s voice deepened and took on an ominous note. “Most spiders are harmless if you do not irritate them. But others are more evil. Some are merely malicious. In the Shadow Lands, deceit is common. The most plump, delicious-looking fruit can hide maggots. A cute, fuzzy kitten masks a Grimoira, a ten-legged creature with needle-sharp fangs that spit poison.”

“Good thing I’m a wolf. I don’t like cats and I can live without fresh fruit.”

She was proud that her voice remained steady, since she shook inside.

It felt disconcerting to realize that the land she’d known her entire life, her refuge, had turned into a murky maze filled with hidden danger. Her wolf had roamed these woods without fear, with confidence, relishing the freedom night brought. Now she wasn’t certain if something worse than that horrid worm lurked in the forest. And the more she heard of the Shadow Lands, the less she wanted to go there.

His expression softened. “There are many delights there as well, and Others who choose to live there instead of moving on.”

“Why would they stay?” This surprised her more than the dark creatures he’d mentioned.

Tristan gazed into the distance, his eyes growing thoughtful. “In the Shadow Lands are memories of life on Earth, and those memories are strong. It is what makes the Shadow Lands so compelling and disturbing. One can relive one’s death, or a love lost. All who pass there must come to terms with their actions on Earth. For some Others, it’s too overwhelming. They may choose not to remember that a loved one or a friend or a family member is no longer with them. They can recreate those happy times in the mists of memory. And get lost there.”

“Like living in a perpetual dream.”

Tristan nodded, still gazing at the jagged mountain peaks. “It is not uncommon for someone to remain in the Shadow Lands for many years until he can find peace and self-acceptance.”

He spoke in a low voice, and instinct told her he was speaking of himself.

“You had regrets after you died, didn’t you? Memories you had to purge.”

She was careful not to probe about their life together before his execution. But his expression darkened.

“I have done my time and passed on, Nikita. Do not ask me about it again.”

He stood and brushed off his leather pants. “Come. It’s time to depart before something worse targets you and you are too sapped of strength to fend it off.”

“Maybe it’s safer here.”

“It is not safer for you. Even now your body, both in Skin and as wolf, is growing weaker. If you remain here, the potion will begin to break down your cell structure, and destroy you from the inside out.” He frowned. “I swore long ago I would never again permit myself to allow anything to harm you, and I will protect you with every ounce of my power. You accuse me of keeping you in a box, but rather a box filled with comfort than the dangers you just faced. Will you now listen to me?”

“A box can be a coffin. And ignorance is not bliss, Tristan. You could have warned me more about those…things. I’m not stupid.”

“No, you are not, but you are innocent. In more ways than one. You cannot remain here much longer.”

“Great choices. If I stay here I die. If I go into the Shadow Lands, I’ll get attacked by giant things with teeth or disgusting maggots. I’ll take what’s behind door number three.”

“There is no door number three.” Tristan held out his hand. “Come.”

She did not take it. “Why are you doing this to me, Tristan? You said you had moved on. Why didn’t you choose another? A Lupine who would be only too happy to become your mate in Tir Na-nog and bear your son.”

An ethereal glow ignited his eyes. “You are the only one for me, Nikita. Having you back in my arms was the only request I made when I became the Silver Wizard. I wanted nothing else. Not riches, nor a glittering palace made of silver, nor power. Just you. You were promised to me ages ago. And it is time to fulfill that promise.”

“And I get no say in the matter? We’re not living in the Dark Ages anymore, Tristan. I have choices!”

“You do. You can remain here and die an agonizing death.”

“You could have let me die in my own bed, with my sister near me,” she whispered.

His jaw turned to stone. “No. I swore I would not let you go or allow you to come to any harm. I swore to not force you, Nikita. But I will not allow you to remain here to turn into a puddle of rotting flesh.”

When he put it that way…

Darkness began to fall upon the ranch as she reluctantly placed her hand into his. Tristan led her down the mountain, back to the bonfire pit and the scum-covered pond. Seeing the pond filled her with sadness. Once she and Nia, in rare moments, had splashed and played here, their privacy fiercely guarded by their protective older brothers. Those innocent, happy times were few, but she’d cherished each one.