The Mating Season: Werewolves of Montana Book 6 (5 page)

As she began to eat again, he went over to the sliding glass doors. Waving a hand, he changed his clothing to a gray T-shirt, black cotton cargo shorts and black flip-flops.

His hand trembled as he traced a rune on the clear glass for protection. He wanted her to remember the love they had shared, and the passion, and learn to trust him again.

But how could she recall those emotions when all she could recall was the horrid way the Fae King killed him? Soon, she would soon remember the terrible words he had told her shortly before he died.

Tristan’s chest tightened.
I’ll deal with that when it comes. And hopefully in nine hundred years, she has learned to forgive me…

Chapter 3

After breakfast, she brushed her teeth using the hotel supplies, and then asked Tristan to provide her with shorts and a T-shirt. The baggy sweatpants and sweatshirt were too ugly and warm.

He waved a hand and clad her in a shapeless gray dress that draped down to her ankles.

Hands on hips, Niki gave him a pointed look. “Sackcloth would do better.”

With a sigh, he waved another hand.

“I left clothing on the bed for you, so you may choose to dress yourself as you wish.”

Delighted, she went into the bedroom. There were piles of clothing, neatly stacked upon the bed. Underwear first.

She picked up a pair of white granny panties and sighed. “Oh Tristan. Seriously?”

Bras, none with the lace and colors she liked. But at least he’d conjured clothing that was suitable. She chose a pretty pair of white shorts that came to mid-thigh, and a blue scooped-neck pullover shirt with lace scalloped sleeves. Niki slid her feet into a pair of white sandals with little blue gemstones and gave a happy sigh.

Life had changed drastically in the past day, but she would live in the moment, not fret about the future. After spending twenty-five years never leaving her father’s ranch, she was going to enjoy her first walk on the beach. Freedom at last!

But freedom always came with a price, and Tristan’s price was steep. Nikita, to become his mate and bear his child.

He saved your life and did not destroy it as the prophecy foretold. But don’t trust him. There’s something there he’s not sharing, something that you know from the past…

But what?

Her body tightened as she thought of the quiet way he’d stated she was to bear his child, how he’d looked at her with such heat in his gaze, but a fiery coldness as well. As if she served no more than his purpose—a vessel for his pleasure and not a person with her own will.

She unbound her hair, brushed it and secured it back with a butterfly clip she found in the bathroom. When she emerged from the bedroom, Tristan’s gaze traveled from the top of her head to her toes. Shivering with pleasure from the heated intensity of that look, she tried to control her galloping pulse.

But seeing him like this, so handsome in the shorts and the T-shirt that displayed the curve of his biceps, was far better than the horrid vision of him being executed…

Her gaze traveled up and down the length of his legs. He had very nice limbs. Long, trim with muscle and dusted with dark hair. Athletic legs that could probably run for miles, or support him as he lifted a woman against the wall and thrust deep inside her…

Heat suffused her face.
Not going there.

“You could have zapped up some nicer underwear for me,” she told him. “Some silk lingerie would have been nice. Peach or emerald green.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Why, when you will not be wearing it for long when we reach my home?”

Niki felt her blush deepen.

He held open the door for her as they left the room. Silence draped between them as they rode down in the elevator. Standing in the opposite corner, Niki smoothed down her shorts, too nervous to speak. He stood there, tall and impervious, this powerful wizard who had been her mate in a past life.

She, who barely even
dated
in this life.

The elevator pinged softly at the tenth floor and slid open. A couple in shorts and polo shirts entered, saw Tristan. Their eyes widened as the doors slid shut. Catching their scent, Niki realized they were like her. Lupine.

Lupines were ruled by Tristan. The couple suddenly bowed before him and she smelled their anxiety, as sharp as cleaning fluid. Tristan sighed. She wondered if he found this tedious, always having Lupines in awe of him, worried about encountering him because they feared he’d punish them for some minor infraction they didn’t realize they had committed.

A tendril of thought curled around her, and she startled, realizing it came from Tristan. No clear words, but a sudden, resigned loneliness, as if he stood alone atop a tall mountain, and down in the valley below were people who lived, laughed, loved and never wanted to see him.

Feeling a surge of empathy, she stepped closer to Tristan and slid her hand into his. He looked startled, and then pleased.

“Good day,” he told the couple as they straightened.

“Are you here for one of us?” the man asked.

“No.” Tristan gave a gentle smile. “I am here, like you, enjoying the seashore.”

The couple exchanged glances. Then the woman spoke in a shy voice. “May I ask you a question about our future?”

Tristan blinked and his smile widened. “Yes. It will happen.”

The couple beamed at each other.

“Congratulations,” he told them.

The elevator doors slid open. “Thank you,” the woman told him and they walked away, arms around each other, laughing like the young lovers they were.

Niki threw him a questioning look.

“She wanted to know if they would get pregnant on this trip. It is the reason why they are here, to escape from the pressures of their pack and their duties, so she can conceive.”

“And she dared to ask you, as if you are a crystal ball?”

He shrugged those broad shoulders. “Lupines like to ask questions about the future, particularly concerning their families. I am accustomed to it. And what is the harm in telling them the eventuality, when they will spend the week doing what will result in the desired outcome?”

A twinkle sparked his dark gaze. He gripped her hand as they strolled into the lobby, and then walked outside to the pool deck. Niki sighed happily. The sun burned brightly in the azure sky and a cooling breeze blew off the turquoise ocean waters.

Tall palm trees and colorful fuchsia flowers ringed the Olympic-sized pool. A few sunbathers lounged in deck chairs by the pool. Tristan walked past them, his gaze whipping back and forth. Tension radiated from him, changing his scent from ocean brine and delicious orange to bitter almonds and sharp steel, laced with a scent her wolf instantly recognized.

The scent of a male alert for trouble, and in protective mode.

She had smelled this before, when her father and brothers were alive. Niki gently disentangled herself from his grip. When he shot her a questioning look, she touched his arm.

“Relax. I’m not going to run away and there are no dangerous monsters lurking here.”

A reluctant smile touched his mouth. “I shall try, for your sake.”

When they finally reached the sandy beach, she raced down to the water’s edge. Tristan was at her side in an instant. Niki kicked off the sandals. The tangy smell of briny, fresh air invigorated her senses.

Dangling the sandals by one finger, she ran to meet the water, loving the way the wet sand squished between her toes. She laughed as the slightly cool surf washed over her bare feet. It felt delicious, better than in her imagination, which had conveyed nothing more than the sandpaper roughness of a wolf’s tongue lapping at her feet.

Warmth filled her and she laughed, throwing out her hands. “It tickles!”

Tristan’s mouth curled into a smile, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

“Come on,” she called, crooking a finger at him. “Tristan, this is fun! Take off your shoes.”

Kicking off his flip-flops he joined her, then he grinned. The boyishness of it was such a drastic contrast to the mien of the severe, powerful wizard that she melted inside.

He gave a furtive look around. “No Skins nearby. Watch this.”

Tristan made a circular gesture with his index finger and the waves curled around his feet, swirling in playful loops. Niki giggled.

“The waves are doing that because they’re reluctant to touch your big, ugly toes,” she teased.

“I have not big, ugly toes.” Grinning, he pointed a foot at the surf. “I have nice feet, though not as nice as yours.”

He actually did have nice feet. Long, square and tipped with perfect toes.

“Big hands, big feet, big paws,” she told him.

His grin turned wicked. “Big something else too.”

Flushing, she darted away, kicking at the surf. His words made her belly curl with anticipation and she needed space. Everything was moving far too fast.

“Don’t go far.” Worry sharpened his voice.

“Don’t be such an old man,” she called back.

“Old man?” he sputtered.

“You are more than fourteen hundred years old.”

Niki placed her sandals out of reach of the tide, and squatted down by the water’s edge. After all these years she was finally at the beach, and determined to make the most of it. She began to scoop out handfuls of sand, shaping them into walls and turrets.

Tristan joined her, giving her a dubious look. “What is that?”

“A castle, silly.”

Kneeling in the sand, he frowned. “It looks like a lopsided house.”

Niki flung seawater at him and he ducked.

A dim memory tugged at her. Castles. Turrets and opened doorways, and magick, shapeshifting silver dragons who soared into the air, then slept in the courtyard by the gatehouse. Her mind slipped into shadow and she found herself staring at the sand, willing it to take shape…

“Whoa,” Tristan murmured.

The lopsided structure she’d made from sand had vanished, replaced with a tall, foreboding castle that looked as if a master artisan had crafted it with intricate tools and brushes.

She touched the castle with a shaky finger. “Tristan, you did this?”

“I did nothing.”

Niki stared at the tall castle, with its majestic turrets, moat, bridge, the keep, and the replica of a sleeping dragon lying in the courtyard by the gatehouse.

“I did this?”

“You recreated it. Castle Baldwin. Our home,” he said softly. “You lived there with me.”

A sense of unreality washed over her. “But…I cannot.”

Tristan took her hand, gently stroking her fingers with his thumb. It felt soothing, but inside, she shook badly. What was happening to her that she could imagine a castle and conjure it out of thin air?

“I need to tell you, Nikita. In order to claim you as my bride and save your life from the virus, I obtained permission from the goddess Danu to make a potion. The potion you ingested contained droplets of my blood which contains my magick. It also contained a droplet of blood of the three other members of the Brehon. Part of our magick now resides inside you.”

As she stared at him, he added, “Not a significant portion, but enough to endow you with magick that enables you to conjure more than mere clothing out of thin air, as you do when you shift back from your wolf form.”

She felt as if her world suddenly tilted on its axis. “If this is so, why are you so worried about me being vulnerable?” There was much she didn’t understand.

“Because you do not know nor understand how to harness that power. It takes time to learn, and you need a safe place for me to teach you.” His voice deepened. “If they knew of your abilities, there are Others who would harm you, and drain your powers to use them for evil.”

Niki glanced up and saw the Lupine couple from the elevator strolling along the shoreline. Suddenly their carefree innocence no longer seemed innocent. They took on a new meaning and threat. Was this what power meant? Always seeing threats everywhere? Freedom suddenly took on a new meaning.

“Is there no place that is safe here, on Earth?”

He shook his head. “I must take you with me to Tir Na-nog. When you enter my home world, you will be safe from all harm,” he said softly. “You will be stronger, and healed from the injuries your earthly body has suffered, and better prepared to carry my child.”

Heart pounding, she stared at his fingers laced through hers. Sex. He talked about when he would bed her, and impregnate her, for that was his ultimate goal. Suddenly faced with this prospect, her childish whim to play and walk in the surf in her bare feet seemed ridiculous.

She had been building castles made from sand, while his goal was to build a legacy, with her as the vessel for carrying his son.

And I will be a prisoner once more, only this time it will be a prisoner to his lust and his desires.
Her life would be all about him and what he wanted…when she hadn’t even had an opportunity to figure out what she herself wanted.

Niki shivered, not because of the sudden gust of wind blowing over the ocean, but because of the ruthless intent shadowing his expression. No romance existed between them, only Tristan’s grim purpose. In her dreams, they had shared a life, shared a bed, shared their bodies and had come together in love and passion. But when she awoke she remembered little of that past, a past he was determined to recreate, eventually impregnating her with the child he’d longed to have.