The Mating Season: Werewolves of Montana Book 6 (26 page)

A high pitched giggle came from the sprite. “No, I don’t bite.”

Wait. She was…talking? Holy wolfsbane, she was having a conversation with a sprite…in her wolf form!

She ground to a halt and turned, and Tristan collided with her, toppling her to the ground.

Niki pawed at his face. “Get off me, wizard. You’re heavy.”

Grinning, showing rows of sharp teeth, he dodged her claws. “I’ll be upon you heavier yet,” he said.

The image came to mind, Tristan naked atop her, moving as he thrust deep inside. Startled, she rolled over and stood, shaking off her coat. “This is too strange. I’m a talking wolf. Like a cartoon!”

“It’s the fantasy world of my homeland.” He stood and nuzzled her throat. “Would you like me to murmur sweet words into your little pointed ear?”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

He shifted back and lay in the grass, laughing as she nipped at his hand, and then licked his face. “Stop it, you’re tickling me,” he said, still laughing.

Niki shifted back to Skin and imagined herself in a flowing pink gown, with starlight sequins rimming the hem. She sat beside him as he stretched out, gazing at the sharp blue sky.

Gone was the wariness, the ever-present slight tension gripping him since the moment he’d swept her into his arms back at her ranch and spirited her away. No more faint lines of strain bracketing his mouth, stamping his dark eyes. It was as if arriving at his home had peeled away a protective layer to show the vulnerable Lupine beneath.

Yet still burning in his gaze was the ever-present passion she’d glimpsed from their first meeting. Tristan slid his muscled arms around her and gathered her close.

Niki cupped his smooth cheek, glad to see the shadows vanished from his eyes. “You look different. Younger.”

“I feel as if I’ve been asleep, or dead, for nearly a thousand years. And now, here with you, my blood is pumping again and my heart is beating. I’m alive.” He pulled her closer, smoothing back the masses of her tangled hair with a hand that shook.

Nikita marveled at the tremor, at the tender vulnerability etched in his expression, and the wonder, as if he saw his world anew.

“I’m alive and everything is whole again, and dancing with color. I can smell the lilies in the field, and hear the wind moving through the trees from miles away. Not because of my magick and my immortality, power bestowed on me to be the guardian of shifters, but because of you, Nikita. You’ve breathed life into my dark soul. You took away this cynical, cold bastard and turned him into a man once more, a man who longs for your touch, for the whisper of your kiss.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, barely brushing his lips across hers. It was a light, teasing touch, a taste of what was to come.

Trembling with her own excitement, she tensed, reaching again for the control that always dodged her heels. As if he sensed this, Tristan pulled away and gazed down at her.

“Let go. Don’t try to control it.” He kissed her again, framing her face with his warm hands. His mouth tasted like the most exotic wine tinged with her favorite chocolate. Dizzy with need, she kissed him back.

All her life she’d been under someone else’s control, heeding the instructions of her family, and then, of her identical twin. Never before had she allowed herself to release her innermost inhibitions, even when she ran wild as wolf in the forest. Always there had been a leash of restraint, wary of what might happen if she lost herself in the moment.

She’d been too fearful of the future, too wrapped up in the possibilities of her own demise, to truly enjoy life. Now, in Tristan’s arms, Niki knew she had nothing to lose.

Trusting him wasn’t easy, but he’d promised to never hurt her. So she leaned into him, cherishing the pleasure coursing through her veins, the way he seemed so tender, and yet raged with a fire only she could extinguish.

Niki relished the power she held over him, not for the sake of power itself, but for the pleasure she could give this immortal. She knew what they’d shared in the past had been unique and priceless.

“Come. My cottage is through those woods.” He stood and stretched out his hand.

Taking his palm, she walked with him toward the forest, ignoring the nagging voice inside her warning this would never last, for it could not.

Warning her to never hand over what she’d guarded all these years.

Her virginity.

Chapter 15

Tristan’s cottage, tucked away deep in a wooded glen, filled her with awe. Two stories high, it was hewn from rough timbers, but upon entering, she saw the most comfortable modern furnishings. The living room had a blue silk striped sofa, and there was a wide screen television hanging over the river rock fireplace.

In the back was a wide wood deck with a splendid view of the creek wending through the woods, and another meadow that showed a vista of jagged purple mountains.

“Heaven,” she sighed.

“Home. Each of us is allowed to create a home however we wish.”

“Why didn’t you create Castle Baldwin?”

He spoke quietly into her mind.
Castle Baldwin was where we spent many happy hours, my sweet, but it was also a place of blood and death. I wanted this, our heaven away from the castle, to be my home. Do you not recognize it?

Niki went to the fireplace and ran a hand over the mantel. It tingled beneath her palm, as if the memories had come to life. “Our cottage in the woods you had built for us, as our special retreat from the world. Except you updated it with modern furnishings.”

“The Dark Ages were rather bleak when it came to interior design.”

He took her hand and led her into the single bedroom. The king-sized bed was fashioned from thick oak limbs.

Good thing I have a sturdy bed.

She glanced at him and saw his knowing smile. Nikita blushed, knowing what he planned to do with her in this room…

Tristan sat on the white comforter and patted a space beside him. “It is quite comfortable, my sweet.”

“I’m certain it is.”

“I would ask you to test it out, but we will be spending plenty of time here later. I plan to keep you very busy in my bed.” A roguish grin touched his sensual mouth.

A tingle of anticipation rushed down her spine. Niki’s palms sweated and she scrubbed them against her clothing. Trapped in bed with Tristan for ten days, making love…

He crooked a finger at her. “Come here.”

She stood between his opened thighs and braced her hands on his shoulders, feeling tensile muscle and bone beneath his clothing. So hard and so very male. Tristan took a lock of her hair and twirled it teasingly around his finger.

“So beautiful,” he murmured. He released the lock of hair and splayed his fingers on her hips and then gently squeezed. “So very plumb and ripe, like a tasty peach.”

Then Tristan cupped her face and kissed her, his tongue teasing and light at first, and then going deeper. Nerve endings screaming for more, she leaned into the kiss, craving those long, lazy strokes of his tongue. Her nipples turned diamond hard and blood pooled low in her loins.

He broke the kiss and his smile was filled with wicked promise.

“A small taste of what I plan for later, but not to your mouth.” His smoldering gaze flicked down to the space between her legs.

Nearly boneless with desire, she turned away, knowing he could not love her until he was mortal. She went to a door and opened it and gasped with delight. Dozens of gorgeous gowns hung in the closet. Sifting through the clothing, she found a violet gown that seemed lighter than air and felt like satin against her fingers as she stroked the fabric.

Tristan joined her and pointed to the shoe rack. “All designer shoes and styles and all will fit you perfectly.”

“You’re going to spoil me like crazy.”

Tenderness edged out the hard male lust on his face. He grazed his thumb against her lower lip, stroking with a languid grace that warned this male would be lethal in that bed of his. All her female hormones cranked up and Niki realized with a start that he’d been right. She was coming into her heat.

“I want you to be happy here, Nikita, and have everything you desire.”

She turned from him, fighting her own rising desire, and went to the other door. Niki opened it to the most luxurious gold and white tiled bathroom, featuring a glassed-in shower with twin jets and a gleaming bone-white toilet.

Tristan watched her quietly as she turned back to him. “You have no need of a bathroom.”

“Until now.” He returned to the living room and she followed. Tristan pulled open a door on the cabinet near the fireplace. He removed a flask and then uncapped it. Blue, glowing liquid swirled in the vial. He stared at it, his gaze troubled.

“When I drink this, I will lose all my powers. I will be as weak as I was nine hundred years ago when Emer’s men tortured me.”

A shadow crossed his face. “I took all the precautions for this moment, Nikita. This cottage, this world around us, has a protective spell that keeps the blood pumping through our bodies. As mortal Lupines, you and I cannot venture past the boundaries. If we do, we shall both die.

“I warded my homeworld with powerful magick to fulfill all your hopes and dreams.” Tristan looked wistful. “I wished to create a world where you could learn to love me as you once did nine hundred years ago.”

Her throat tight, she touched his hand. “I remember that world before it turned into dust. It was a good life, Tristan.”

The blue liquid glowed brighter, sparkling now. He swirled the vial again. “I gave you the protection of my body and my magick when I rescued you from the parvolupus virus, my sweet. But my powers will be limited once I take this. I will be nothing more than a mere Lupine once more.”

A mere Lupine? “You never were only Lupine, Tristan. You were powerful as mortal, powerful enough to lead an army to fight the Fae. And I am not the helpless Lupine I was nine hundred years ago.” She stroked his trembling hand with a gentle caress. “I want to experience this with you, experience all you want to show me.”

A faint smile touched his mouth. “My courageous Nikita. Always the spirit of a wild wolf.” He looked down at the potion.

“Bottoms up,” he murmured, and drank, grimacing.

Astonished, she watched the subtle glow of silver ringing his body vanish. The silver tips of his hair turned dark and a jagged scar appeared on his firm chin. He staggered backward and sat on the sofa.

“That was not nice,” he muttered. “I feel so damn weak now. I hate being weak.”

Niki sat beside him and touched the scar with a trembling finger. “I remember this mark. You got it after your first battle in the Fae Wars.”

“It vanished when I became the Silver Wizard. I am not immortal now, Nikita.”

Tristan smiled, but there was a tired look about him, and purple smudges beneath his eyes. “I must rest, my sweet. Draining my powers is arduous.”

This powerful being, who never slept, was now as vulnerable as she was. The thought troubled her as she lay on the bed with him. Tristan stretched out, one hand above his head.

He closed his eyes. She watched him, her chest hollow.
Oh Tristan, part of me wishes I could replace what we lost and stay with you here forever, creating the family we were denied. And the other half that never experienced life wants to just run away and be free.

Niki rolled over to her side and closed her eyes.

And fell into the past, as she had before.

Only this past brought her to the executioner’s block. Tristan was on his knees, staring wildly at her as she rushed to the platform.

Sorrow pierced her, such anguish that she sobbed. Her mate, her beloved, was going to die in agony. She would never see him again. Two of King Emer’s guards came and grabbed her arms to tug her away from the platform.

A promise from him, her beloved…he would hold fast to it and never break it, even through the centuries…

“Promise me, Tristan,” she cried out as they dragged her away. “Please, promise me we will be together again, in another life, another time. I cannot bear to live without you. You are my only love.”

“Nikita, my sweet.” The anguish in his eyes would haunt her for the rest of her days. “I promise. I will find a way to return to you. I love you forever. I will love you…”

A glint of sunlight on steel as the executioner’s hook descended. She could not watch, but his screams sliced through her.
Tristan, my Tristan, my only love. I will never love another man. Come back to me somehow, some way. Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me…

And then it was over and he screamed no more.

Niki awoke, panting, her heart racing with panic and grief. Beside her, Tristan stirred. His eyes flew open. Dark brown, she thought, tears trickling down her cheeks. In their life together, they had been a deep, clear blue.

“My sweet Nikita, what is wrong?”

She hugged him tight, fearing if she let go he would die, as he had more than nine hundred years ago. She had made a promise in her heart, a promise she’d never broken. The Nikita of the past knew this, and guarded her heart well.

“I remember now. I know why you came to me back at the ranch, why you saved my life. It wasn’t for your own purposes. You were fulfilling your promise.”