The Mating Season: Werewolves of Montana Book 6

by Bonnie Vanak

  Nikita shrank back. Please…stop.

  And then he turned, saw her and his expression grew stricken.

  Tristan’s eyes turned brown once more and he resumed his normal appearance. Whatever normal was.

  “I’m sorry, my sweet. When you are threatened, I tend to overreact,” he murmured, cupping her cheek with one warm palm.

  “Oh, how very endearing.” Mara clapped her hands, but her face remained cold and impartial. “Tristan, you are smitten. Delightful.”

  The Fae waved a hand. “I’ll be on my way. Have a good morning!”

  Nikita’s heart did not stop racing until the woman was well down the beach. Tristan growled slightly, then relaxed as he turned to her. “Are you all right?”

  She managed a nod. “I’ve never seen such a display of your power.”

  He searched her gaze. “You fear me.”

  Who wouldn’t? “I’m a little overwhelmed.”

  “I would never hurt you, Nikita. Never.” His face tightened. “I would give my last breath to protect you.”

  Tristan’s hand dropped to his side. He looked lost and distant once more and she inwardly sensed him pulling away. “You need more time. I should not have brought you here, into the open, where that one could find you.”

  “You can’t shut me away like I’m some buried treasure, Tristan.” She fisted her hands. “I’ll admit, that…witch…scares me, but I won’t hide from her, or anyone else. I’ve done enough hiding in my life, forced into it because my family was trying to protect me from being abducted, and destroyed, by you. If it were up to me, I would have lived free and wild as a wolf.”

  “You always were courageous. That has not changed.”

  Courageous? Her? Far from it. I do a good job pretending, that’s all.

  He turned back to the hotel. “I can sense your distress. Let’s return to the room, so you may rest.”

  Rest? She wanted to explore, not remain trapped behind four walls as she had been before. “No. I’m not an invalid.” She studied the wash of foamy surf curling upon the shore and then gazed into the horizon. A red and white flag upon a white buoy floated on the gentle waves. She’d seen that flag in movies and books.

  “I want to go snorkeling. I’ve never been in the ocean before.”

  Tristan stared. “Now? After Mara has seen you?”

  “Wait until she sees me in a red bikini. I’ve got bigger boobs than she has.”

  Tristan’s jaw dropped and desire flicked in his gaze as he glanced at her chest. “Indeed.”

  “If you’re not going with me, I’ll go alone. I’m not a porcelain doll you can lock away, Tristan.”

  “I wish I could,” he muttered. He gazed up and down the beach as if searching for trouble. “Come with me.”

  Half an hour later, changed into a red bikini Tristan had conjured for her, and carrying a dive mask, snorkel and flippers, she ran from the shore into the surf. It was chilly, lapping gently at her ankles.

  She glanced backwards at Tristan, following her. He’d changed into swimwear as well. It revealed a lot more than the black tunic and trousers and boots.

  A lot more.

  A shiver raced down her spine. Gods, he was sexy. Hot, hot, hot as her twin would say. And as cute and hunky as that other wizard, Xavier, had been in a green Speedo that accented his muscled body and his very impressive package, Tristan was ten times more male.

  His muscled chest boasted a triangle of black, wiry hair and his arms were firm with muscle and sinew. The black swim trunks were modest and hugged his lean hips and came to mid-thigh.

  A faint memory tugged at her—the silky hair on his thighs rubbing against her legs as he lay naked atop her, fisting a hand in her long hair while he moved deep inside her, whispering a promise: “I will be inside you so deep, my sweet, that whilst I am gone, you will remember my cock claiming your tight cunnie, and long for the day I shall return to love you again.”

  She felt arousal bite, sharp and sweet. Nikita bit her lip.

  He looked at her with a knowing smile. “Does my body please you, my sweet?”

  Oh no, not going there. Her shoulders lifted in a casual shrug.

  His expression grew hungry as he studied her with a smile. “You look most lovely in that bathing attire. Very…fetching. I shall have to stick close to you as your protector to fend off all the lusty males.”

  His grin grew wicked. “Very close.”

  The only lusty male in sight was Tristan, whose bathing trunks had suddenly developed an interesting tent. Cheeks heated, she tore her gaze away from his groin and ran into the surf, heart beating fast.

  He was at her side instantly. “Be careful of the riptide. It is to the left of the rock and quite strong.”

  “I can swim,” she muttered.

  As she waded further out to the coral rock the clerk at the hotel’s shop had told her about, Niki attached her mask and snorkel and began to swim in clumsy, big strokes.

  Dad had taught her and Nia to swim, but his lessons had been brief. She never had much opportunity to use the pond on the ranch where other Lupines loved to splash and play.

  She put her face into the water and saw the coral rock, and dozens of yellow and blue fish gathered around it.

  So lovely. Enchanted, she swam among the blue fish, who swam upward as if to greet her. She waved her hand through them. They unfurled like a ribbon, as if her movements were hypnotizing them.

  I could stay here forever.

  She could hold her breath a long while. After tossing aside her snorkel, Niki sucked in a breath and dove deeper to investigate the fish. She waved a hand and the fish swam toward her, surrounding her like fans at a rock concert. Maybe this was part of the magick the wizards shared with her—a new ability to call animals toward her.

  Time to test it out. She envisioned a big tarpon swimming toward her. Once she’d watched a fishing show on television, and the huge fish fascinated her. Niki flicked her fingers out toward the depths.

  No tarpon. Instead, she saw several strands of brown seaweed floating in the water. It snaked toward her and with a sudden flash of movement, one curled around her neck, pulling her downward toward the left of the rock.

  And the riptide, to suck her further out to sea.

  Chapter 4

  This could not happen.

  Tristan stared, dumbstruck, as the rope of brown seaweed curled around Nikita’s neck. With her fingers, she struggled to escape as it pulled her toward the rock. Then he shook free of the shocked horror filling him.

  The seaweed tugged her toward the left of the coral rock, where she could hurt her head and drown. And then to his relief, he saw her shift into wolf. She snapped at the seaweed, and freed herself.

  Good girl. He swam toward her, but the wolf paddled away, then broke the surface gasping for breath. Tristan waved a hand, creating the illusion that Nikita the woman was still snorkeling in the safe zone.

  To his dismay, he felt the tug of the rip current. Nikita panted, swimming hard against it.

  His heart pounding hard, Tristan willed the waves to calm. Mara had power over the elements, but so did he. Dear goddess, he might have lost her.

  The ocean smoothed to mirror-flatness as he swam toward her. Tristan wanted to materialize them both inside their room, but too many Others were on shore. Too many eyes, and he wasn’t certain if Mara’s were among them and would follow.

  He must tread cautiously, and then get Nikita the hell out of here.

  The wolf paddled alongside him, not whining or whimpering, her gaze alert. He could feel the rapid pounding of her heart, but she hid her fear well in wolf form.

  Her wolf was her best defense, he realized, one she had used to escape the woes of her sheltered existence.

  Finally, his feet gained the sand. Nikita sprang forward, cutting through the surf, and then collapsed upon the wet sand. He immediately sent a tendril of magick through the air to mask her appearance so she looked more like a large German shepherd than a wolf, th
en he sank down next to her, his fingers fisted in her thick fur.

  Good girl, he silently told her. You were correct. You do have effective defenses in wolf form.

  Her gaze flipped up to him, and her tail thumped against the wet sand.

  A group of Skins, including a lifeguard bearing a bullet-shaped red preserver, darted forward. Tristan pushed back his wet hair. “Thank you for your concern. I am fine.”

  Murmurs of relief came from the assembled Skins. He did not see Mara. Tristan sent a mental suggestion outward to the Skins, urging them to return to their former activities. But the lifeguard did not budge.

  “You chanced that rip current to save a damn dog?” The lifeguard looked disgusted as the crowd drifted away.

  “My dog.” Tristan hugged Niki tight. “My best friend.”

  Several female sighs of appreciation sounded, followed by nods of respect from several Skins. As the crowd dispersed, the lifeguard frowned.

  “Dogs are not allowed on this beach.” The man gave him a severe look.

  Fuck you. The words did not leave his mouth. Instead he waved a hand. “You did not see this.”

  “I did not see this,” the Skin repeated.

  “You will return to your lifeguard stand and daydream about Baywatch.”

  “I will return to my lifeguard stand and dream about fucking the women in Baywatch.”

  Nikita stood, shaking off droplets from her soaked fur. Tristan dropped to his knees and cupped her muzzle in his hands.

  “You’ve had enough trauma for one morning. Let us go upstairs so you can rest.”

  As they walked along the beach to the far end to access the hotel entrance, two Skin women in bikinis sighed in admiration.

  “So sweet! I adore it when a man loves his dog that much,” one gushed.

  “Do you think he’s single?” whispered her friend.

  Niki stared at the women and uttered a low growl, baring her fangs.

  Hiding a smile, he gave her a reassuring pat. “Come, my sweet.” Then he nodded at the startled Skin women. “Good day, ladies.”

  When Tristan and Nikita were far enough out of sight, he created the illusion that Nikita came out of the ocean and went into the hotel. Then he dematerialized them to their penthouse. Nikita shifted back to Skin. For a moment, she stood there in the nude, then she conjured clothing.

  You have no need to worry about me staring at your nudity. I am still too shaken to notice. I could have lost you. Again.

  Her mouth thinned to a slash as she faced him. “What were you doing?”

  Tristan stared. “Saving you.”

  “I could save myself. I told you, my wolf is smart.”

  “So smart she knows how to avoid a rip current? Or enchanted seaweed that tries to drown her? Without me to protect you, you could have been badly injured.”

  “I can protect myself, Tristan. I’m not made of glass.”

  “No, but you are mortal and flesh and blood and you can get hurt! That rope of seaweed was enchanted and tugging you down to drown you!”

  She shook her head. “I can’t even have a small adventure. I know it was enchanted. I enchanted it by mistake. It happened when I tried to call forth a tarpon.” She lifted her shoulders. “The magick must have spilled over to the seaweed. So I shifted into wolf and freed myself. No problem.”

  “No problem?” He took a deep breath. “You’re naïve if you think you called forth that seaweed, Nikita. Our powers do not work that way. It was dark enchantment caused by something else, most likely Mara. I am most displeased with you. From now on, you will not swim in the ocean nor will you go near the water.”

  Eyes huge, she looked at him. “You’re worse than my family ever was, smothering me like this. Is that what you want, Tristan? Put me away in a box and take me out when you want me? Keep me hidden away?”

  “Go shower,” he said curtly. “You have sand in your hair.”

  She stumbled off to the bedroom, and shortly after, he heard the shower running.

  Tristan waved a hand and removed all seawater from his body, drying his clothing. His magick was much more efficient than a shower.

  He went to the window and stared at the ocean.

  Deep inside he ached. He could have watched her slip away from his fingers like sand, and failed her yet again.

  And now she didn’t want, nor need his help.

  Now was the time, while he could still communicate with Gideon, for contact was forbidden in the Shadow Lands.

  Murmuring a chant, he traced another protective rune on the window.

  A minute later, a tingle rushed down his spine, warning of the other wizard’s arrival. Tristan turned to see his friend standing before him. Dressed in his customary red tunic, with red trousers and boots, his long dark gold hair tipped with crimson, Gideon, the Crimson Wizard, did not look happy.

  “I know.” Gideon held up his hand as Tristan started to speak. “I should have warned you when I discovered she knew you were with Nikita. But she means no harm. She only wanted to wish you both well.”

  “Mara tried to drown Nikita. That is an offense I cannot forgive.”

  “It was not my sister. Trust me, Tristan, she has gotten over her feelings for you.” Gideon raised his dark eyebrows. “She has had more than nine hundred years to do so. That particular torch she carried? She extinguished it long ago.”

  “Then who else would wish to harm Nikita?”

  “You’re the Silver Wizard, Tristan. You have many enemies, like the rest of us.” Gideon snapped his fingers and a crystal ball appeared in his palm. He peered into it and his forehead wrinkled.

  “What?” Tristan demanded.

  “I cannot see. The future is cloudy, my friend.” Gideon twirled the ball in his hand and his long hair billowed in the breeze it created. “It means your future, and Nikita’s, is tied to all of ours.”

  Tristan leaned against the armchair, his thoughts secret and guarded. He glanced out the window, noting that a storm gathered on the horizon. The waves began to toss to and fro, and beachgoers scampered for the hotel as the storm approached.

  He knew what was causing the storm on this sunny day. When two members of the Brehon gathered, and their emotions lathered…

  Not good.

  “Perhaps it is best you return Nikita to her pack, my friend. I know what you were promised…”

  “What?” Tristan stared at the Crimson Wizard as if Gideon had suggested he toss Nikita back into the churning surf.

  “I warned you to guard your heart. Create your longed-for heir with her, but do not fall in love all over again. You will have to eventually give her up, for she cannot remain in Tir Na-nog more than ten days. You saved her mortal life with the potion, but the effects will wear off and she will die unless she returns to Earth.”

  “Unless she chooses to become immortal and drinks the potion of the Blooded Moonflower.”

  Gideon stopped twirling the ball, his gaze hard. “Danu gave you permission for that, but Nikita may not choose to remain. Do not interfere with Nikita’s fate, Tristan. She could be the downfall of us all if you do. You are not in this alone.”

  Xavier had said the same thing, but not with that doom and gloom warning. Tristan scowled, his temper rising.

  “I will never give her up simply because you are afraid of the future. You need to watch your damn whore of a sister and keep her away from my mate.”

  “I am not afraid. And my sister is not a whore. How dare you call her that!” Gideon’s eyes flashed red, signaling the rise of his powers.

  Outside, thunder crackled and rain pelted the windows. Oh, this was going to be good. He did not spar often with Gideon. It had been a long time and he needed to unleash his pent-up anger and frustration.

  “For a fifteen-hundred-year-old Fae wizard, you are sorely lacking balls.” Tristan flipped him the finger.

  “That’s it. First you accuse my sister of being a whore and now you insult me.” Gideon hefted the crystal ball, and it turned a glowi
ng crimson, crackling with energy.

  Gideon flung it at Tristan. He dodged and the glittering sphere smashed into a vase filled with lilies, blowing it to shards. The pungent smell of flowers laced the air, along with the metallic scent of pure power.

  Growling, Tristan lobbed back a silver ball filled with his power. Gideon ducked and it crashed into the wall, blowing a giant hole into the pretty wallpaper and making the room shake.

  “So that is it, eh?” Gideon conjured another ball of power and threw it at Tristan. It hit him square in the chest, but did no damage.

  None of them could hurt another. It was the way of the Brehon.

  “Your aim sucks,” Gideon jeered as Tristan lobbed another energy ball at the wizard.

  This one did not hit Gideon, but crashed into a glass pitcher filled with ice water. Water splashed over Gideon, soaking his red tunic and his face. Sputtering, he glared at Tristan.

  “Chill out,” Tristan shot back. “Have you not learned anything in fifteen hundred years?”

  “You’re a fucking waste of breath.”

  “Out of millions of sperm, you were the fastest?” He flung an energy ball at Gideon again, his temper sailing out of control because deep down, he knew Gideon was right.

  Nikita could not be his, permanently, unless she drank the potion. And the price she’d have to pay for becoming immortal might be too much for her and she would return to Earth. He would have to give her up, for the only other way he could remain with her in Tir Na-nog permanently would be if she died. And he could not bear that sorrow again.

  The bedroom door opened and the love of his life rushed out, clad in a bathrobe.

  “Stop it,” she cried out. “Stop fighting!”

  Nikita flung a glowing white sphere at the energy balls. The sphere engulfed them and made the silver and crimson balls vanish. The sphere gently floated in the air, glittering like a Fourth of July sparkler. And then it burst like a balloon. Dozens of white and purple lilies floated in the air, then dropped to the carpet.

  Tristan and Gideon exchanged glances. He softened his voice as he spoke to Nikita.

  “My sweet, do not fear. We do this type of fighting from time to time. We cannot hurt each other. It is harmless.”