The Mating Season: Werewolves of Montana Book 6 (20 page)

“You said everything in the Shadow Lands is not corporeal since they are dead. And yet you are living, you have a beating heart, you have a body and you have…” Her gaze dropped down to his groin. She looked away, flushing.

“Yes, I have one of those as well and it works quite well,” he said dryly. “Too well, for it has a mind of its own.” He glanced upward. “We have a long way to go yet. We must not delay.”

As he began walking again, he kept looking around, scanning for danger. But her curiosity would not be denied. She had dozens of questions and he had not answered many.

“But how can you have a functioning body? If you wish me to drink this magick elixir so I can become immortal, I need to know the basics. I’m a science geek, Tristan. I need to know how things work.”

Tristan held back a low-hanging branch so she could duck beneath it. “We wizards are as corporeal as your pack, Nikita. When I was made the Silver Wizard, I underwent a transformation, as you will, except you will not have my powers. I was made corporeal again, and the powers endowed in me allow me to live in Tir Na-nog as flesh, not spirit. The elixir of the Blooded Moonflower helps maintain our immortality. It is the only food, if you will, we require. And when you drink it, you will become immortal as well.”

“Like a human tasting ambrosia in the Greek myths becomes immortal. So the elixir is the food of the wizards as ambrosia is the food of the Greek gods?”

A faint smile touched his mouth as they navigated past another fallen log. “Yes. Except we wear better clothing and we are much less capricious with our powers.”

The smile dropped. “It is forbidden for me to share my seed with a mortal, for it contains part of my magick and my powers as the Silver Wizard. I cannot make love to you until we reach Tir Na-nog and my home, where I will become mortal again for the ten days you are with me.”

He turned and started through the forest again, and she walked at his side this time, not behind. Tristan kept scanning the forest, as if looking for something.

By drinking the magick elixir, she could become immortal as well, but lose her family.

Tristan told her to get to the crystal cave where Drust hid Prince Alexander, they had to walk through a desert filled with hidden traps. Like a minefield, she thought, as they eyed the treacherous terrain ahead. Nostrils flaring, she looked at the long plateau of tawny sand. Like the deserts of Egypt, it seemed a giant sea of sand, no end in sight. Her wolf, already uncomfortable with the stale air, the heat and the smell of old blood, whined.

Down girl. I don’t want to venture here, either, but it seems we have little choice.

As they stepped upon the sand, Tristan glanced at her, his expression guarded. “There are dangers below and above this desert, but the greatest danger is within.”

“Would you mind being more specific?”

“I can say no more.”

“You sound like a Chinese fortune cookie.”

“I have been told that before,” he agreed.

The cryptic warning didn’t boost her self-confidence. Greatest danger from within? What did he mean and why couldn’t he elaborate? She’d have been better off with a Magic 8 ball or consulting her daily horoscope. Maybe it meant she had to find the internal spirit to set herself free. Tristan had mentioned that this was
her
journey.

Not his.

The crackling aura of his power became more visual. Before, it had manifested as a flicker around him, a faint silver aura much like the glint of a mirror on a cloudy day. Now it was like full sunshine hitting a mirrored surface, and she found it difficult to gaze at him.

He walked apart from her, hands laced behind his back, his arrogant chin held high, his shoulders straight. She reminded herself that even here in the Shadow Lands, he was a being who held magick far beyond hers. No matter that he’d been her lover and mate in a past life, and wished to claim her again.

The promises he’d made earlier dimmed in light of this drastic personality shift of this remote, powerful being. As if the wizard had replaced the Lupine who remembered her from his previous life, and wanted her as his mate again.

She suspected it had to do with remembering his time here before.

The sands seemed to stretch on forever. Every once in a while she’d see a flicker of a mirage, like a watery reflection in a pond. Some were sharper than others. They would appear, then vanish.

Making small talk, she chattered about a science book she’d read on biology and plants.

He gave her a level look. “Concentrate on where you step, Nikita. Less chatter and more awareness.”

Gone was the endearing “my sweet.” She had never heard him be this critical.

“I am aware. I’m very aware of how moody you’ve become.”

They walked for what seemed like a long time before they came upon an outcropping of trees like nothing she’d ever seen. Stubby trees with peeling gray bark, their limbs outstretched in sinister shapes, like arms ready to pull her aside.

“Avoid those trees,” he told her.

She did not hesitate to heed his warning. A sulphuric odor clung to them, and her wolf whined again.

When he stopped, his power pulsing like a beacon cutting through the night, she swallowed hard.
Show no fear.

Instead, she softened her tone. “What is it, Tristan? What is it about this place that makes you so edgy? You have power enough to overcome everything.”

“I am not edgy. I am the Silver Wizard. And I have no need of your flattery.”

“Tristan, the Great and Terrible Wizard,” she mocked, resenting his curt tone.

“Nikita, I am in no mood for games.”

Giving a shrug that hid her resentment, she skipped ahead. “Then stop acting so surly as if we’re walking through quicksand. I’ve been cooped up my entire life in a basement and I’d like to explore. This is a desert, but you said the Shadow Lands are filled with manifestations of magick. The Shadow Lands aren’t so bad if you can control your thoughts and your dreams. It’s not pleasant, but…”

Barely had the words fled her mouth when the sand opened beneath her feet. She spilled downward, into a long, dark tunnel. Her wolf howled in fright.

Down she fell, about ten feet, until unexpectedly she went sprawling into a square, dark room. And then the opening above her turned into a pane of glass, closing across the box.

In abject panic, she hurled herself up at it, uselessly. Her skull collided with the glass, stunning her, and then she fell hard to the floor.

Panting, she looked at her prison. No more than 5 x 5, it was a cage with black walls, the only light coming from above.

Her greatest fear had manifested itself. She was trapped and alone.

When she had been confined to her apartment, Niki had left each night, roaming the ranch woods as wolf. Only the open sky and fresh air had soothed her wolf, had enabled her to remain in the apartment each day.

Now, imprisoned in this box, her wolf began to howl. But she could not shift. Her magick was useless in the Shadow Lands.

Claustrophobia squeezed her like a vise. She fought to catch her breath, to not hyperventilate.
You’re trapped, Niki. Trapped in this box, as you were trapped in your basement apartment for your entire life.

She scrabbled for logic in the face of her fear: Tristan wouldn’t leave her here. He wouldn’t.

You will stay here and no one would find out, or care.

No one will know the true you, because your entire life has been non-existent. You’re a ghost. Trapped. No freedom.

No.

“Tristan,” she screamed. “Help me, please!”

She looked upward through the glass ceiling and saw him standing above her, arms folded, gazing into the distance. Couldn’t he see her? Hear her screams?

“Help me,” she begged, pounding on the ceiling.

But he didn’t even look at her.

His impervious stance told her that he was indifferent to her needs, just as he’d been nine hundred years ago.

Whatever held her in its grip was torturing her, causing excruciating mental agony.

She could not breathe and she could not summon her wolf, the beast that always gave her strength in times of crisis and anguish.

Then a gentle, deep voice spoke inside her mind, pushing aside the clanging of her thoughts.
Focus, Nikita. You can do it. Do not fear. Look within. You are strong and brave. And I will not let you be forgotten. But you must help yourself.

She stretched out her hands and pushed at the ceiling, which seemed now to be lowering upon her. She felt the crushing weight as much as the lack of oxygen.

Panic squeezed her lungs. She began to thrash helplessly, gasping for air and wasting what little she had left.
No. Stop it! Get a hold of yourself.

Look within.

Centering her concentration, she closed her eyes and stopped pushing at the glass ceiling. She focused on all the good things about her basement apartment: its safety and quiet and cool, clean familiarity. She had in some ways enjoyed the years of living on the ranch in relative isolation from the pack. She’d loved the elders who fussed over her and treated her like a favorite grandchild. She recalled the love and affection of her father and brothers. The joy of running wild and free as wolf at night. She could do that in her mind, if she just concentrated. And the walls would fall away.

Nikita traveled further in her memory, feeling the deep, binding love of her identical twin.
Nia, I miss you so much.

The glass ceiling continued to descend, pressing her down into the floor of the box, trying to incite her to fresh panic.

Niki refused. She took a deep breath.
Miss you, Nia, but I’m so happy you and Aiden are together. You deserve to be happy, and deserve a good Lupine like him. You’re both strong leaders and will serve our people well.

I’m strong, too, but I’ve never had the chance to explore what I can do, because I’ve been afraid all my life and trapped by a prophecy that the wizard might find me and destroy me. Well, he’s found me now, and I’m on a great adventure.

Trapped in a damned box instead of my apartment!

But at least I’m not at home. I’m traveling! Maybe not officially—there’s no stamp on my passport, but at least we bypass the long lines at customs and immigration.

The thought struck her as wildly ironic and funny. She laughed, and forgot about everything except the absurdity of the situation. And then she stared upward, still laughing.

Fine. I can stay here, take a nice nap. No prob.

The glass ceiling vanished, and she found herself on the sands near Tristan once more. His back to her, he seemed to study the squat trees.

“Tristan,” she whispered.

No response.

“Look at me,” she ordered. “Damnit, Tristan, stop ignoring me. I called to you and you didn’t help me! I felt like I was dying!”

He turned and Niki gasped. He started to raise his hand to reach for her, and then it dropped to his side. He did not look at her, seemed to look past her.

Silver-colored blood trickled between the fingers of his clenched fists.

Niki went to him, reached for his hand. He jerked it away, but she grabbed his wrist. So cold, like death. She unfurled his bloody palm and winced at the cuts made by his nails.

“Talk to me,” she urged. “Please. Why did you do this to yourself? What’s going on, Tristan?”

When he finally spoke, he sounded broken. “It was the only way I could stop from reaching for you. It is forbidden for me to come to your aid when you face your darkest fear in this world, when the struggle isn’t against creatures you can manifest like the spider or the worm, but yourself. You had to find your own way out of that box. If I had helped you other than by giving you encouragement… I could have lost you forever.”

And then she understood what it cost him to watch her struggle and panic, caught in the grip of the trap fashioned by her deepest fears. To feel powerless and helpless to aid her, just as he felt powerless when he was held prisoner by the Fae, and eventually executed. Niki lifted his hand to her lips and gently pressed a kiss to his wounded palm.

The bloody lacerations faded.

Surprise flickered in his eyes. “Why did you do that?”

“To thank you, and heal you. Every Lupine needs the power behind a simple touch, Tristan. Especially when they feel lost and hurt inside, and helpless.”

“I am not Lupine. Nor helpless.” He pulled his hand away and the impartial coldness returned to his demeanor. “Do not make the mistake of thinking me that way, Nikita.”

“You were Lupine once. You were like me, like Others, in a past life.”

“No longer. The Shadow World holds not the dangers for me that it does for you.” He laced his hands behind his back once more. “I’ve already paid the price when I was here hundreds of years ago, and finally learned to free myself.”

She was in another world, and each step carried unknown dangers. She needed connection in a world fraught with uncertainty.

“Then show me the price you paid, Tristan. It will help me to reconnect with you.”