The Mating Ritual: Werewolves of Montana Book 9

by Bonnie Vanak

  THE MATING RITUAL

  WEREWOLVES OF MONTANA BOOK 9

  Bonnie Vanak

  Contents

  WEREWOLVES OF MONTANA BOOK 9

  Prologue

  GIDEON, PRESENT DAY

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  WEREWOLVES OF MONTANA BOOK 9

  The Mating Ritual

  Prologue

  Prior to Gideon becoming the Crimson Wizard

  This land of ethereal beauty and sunshine could be as cold and icy as a grave.

  She was a princess of the Summer Kingdom, but her heart belonged elsewhere—in a land of snow, ice and warm passion. Gideon promised they would have a home of their own there.

  Lady Eleanor Balour smiled as she thought of her prince.

  “Your wish is my command,” he often told her.

  How I wish we could be together, forever, my darling.

  The tall rowan and oak trees grew thinner, then she crossed a meadow of green grass.

  Almost there…almost safe…

  “A tasty princess comes into my kingdom,” something dark and beastly and other growled.

  She stared.

  The beast wanted blood. Her blood. Red tongue hanging out past razor sharp teeth, he lumbered toward her, dead leaves and grass crunching beneath his broad paws. Gray eyes shot through with yellow regarded her. With its dark green fur covering its four-legged body, the horn on its head, and the red slashs for nostrils, the Walakitane was hideous.

  Heart racing, Eleanor backed away, dropping the woven basket and the blanket she’d brought for today’s outing. She wished for a sword in hand, but her father believed women were too fragile and delicate to wield weapons.

  I should have waited for Gideon’s bodyguard.

  Gideon had warned her about this creature. But she’d been too eager, too overjoyed at the thought of seeing her love and she’d forgotten precaution as she’d crossed this small section of the Winter Kingdom.

  “You smell nice,” the Walakitane said as it clambered toward her.

  Eleanor found a rock and lobbed it at the creature, but the Walakitane ducked.

  “Missed me,” it taunted. “Let’s try again.”

  She found a larger stone and this time, smacked him square in the forehead.

  The beast drew back a little. “Ow,” it complained.

  Suddenly a sleek black jaguar burst out of the brush, raked a sharp claw over the beast. The Walakitane howled and retreated. The cat circled the beast, snarling and keeping him away from Eleanor.

  Prince Gideon Tyrell burst through the undergrowth and thick tangle of brush. He withdrew the sword strapped to his back and then held it out, circling it in the air.

  “Behind me, Eleanor,” Gideon ordered.

  He stepped in front of her, protecting her with his tall, muscled body, his sharp blue gaze centered on the Walakitane. Gideon’s sword arced and bright green blood splattered over a nearby boulder. The beast’s head toppled to the ground. Gideon’s handsome mouth curved in a satisfied smile. He wiped his sword on the beast’s thick fur.

  The jaguar growled in feral satisfaction. Then the big cat transformed into a man, who wore a black tunic and black leggings. Soft doeskin boots covered his feet. Black-haired and dark-eyed, he looked quite concerned.

  “Princess.” His voice was deep. “Are you injured?”

  She shook her head, shuddering, as Gideon held his sword aloft, watching the Walakitine.

  “Eleanor, stay back,” Gideon ordered.

  Wide-eyed, she watched a new head wriggle up from beast’s neck. It looked at Gideon and then the beast assumed the shape of a pale, doughy man wearing a dark brown tunic and leggings. An enormous paunch spilled over a rope belted around its wide waist.

  “Damn, that hurts like hell,” the Walakitane complained. “Sire, I was only playing with her. She smells like fun, not like that horrid Summer Kingdom.”

  “No one plays with my Eleanor. Next time I’ll use a blade coated with fairy flames and you won’t regrow your head, Henry. Now go before I change my mind and stab you through the heart. But first apologize to Lady Eleanor.”

  “I’m sorry.” Then the beast looked hopeful. “Maybe we can play again next week when you pass this way? And bring me a treat? A nasty fairy from the summer kingdom? Or a toad? Am I forgiven?”

  Eleanor burst into laughter. She went and petted Henry’s shoulder. He was not at all fearsome in his human form. “You’re forgiven. Now, it’s best you are gone, before Gideon gets quite angry.”

  The beast lumbered off, resembling a pouting child more than a creature that could rip her head off her shoulders.

  “Sire, do you need me to escort you both into the neutral territory?” the jaguar shifter asked.

  Gideon sheathed the sword. He nodded at the dark-haired man. “No, thank you Kieran. You may return to the palace now.”

  The shifter’s dark gaze twinkled. “Henry is right. You do smell like fun, Lady Eleanor.”

  “Kieran,” Gideon said in a warning tone.

  The shifter purred, then sketched a polite bow to them both before walking off.

  She shook her head, looking at the bodyguard as he shifted into his jaguar form and raced away. “Your people are quite… peculiar.”

  “Kieran likes to tease. He would give his life for me and for you, since I ordered him to guard you. I told you to wait for him. You know crossing this section of my father’s kingdom is hazardous to any Seelie.” Gideon’s deep voice carried a note of censure even as he cupped her cheek, his thumb grazing her skin. “Eleanor, will you listen to me?”

  His arms came around her; secure, strong and steady. She released a deep sigh. “I could not wait to see you again and I made haste.”

  Gideon pulled away, searching the forest. “Come, my sweet, before another of my people discovers you are here. You would make a delicious snack for another predator.”

  He retrieved the picnic basket and the red-checked blanket she’d dropped.

  Gideon might scold her, but he would never hurt her. She knew it with every breath she huffed out, every beat of a heart that Fae healers warned could not take much strain.

  Soon they reached the banks of the Crystal Creek, the dividing line between her Summer and his Winter kingdom. Picking up her skirts, she stepped onto the first rock in the water and nearly lost her balance.

  “Careful.” Gideon set down the blanket and picnic basket. He jumped into the creek and swept her into his strong arms.

  Eleanor laughed and slid her arms around his neck as Gideon carried her over to the mossy bank. Gently, he set her on the ground. They were safe now. No Fae, neither dark nor light, dared to commit acts of violence upon this sacred, neutral territory, where all Fae went for respite and rest from the two hundred year-old Fae War.

  Gideon held her for a moment longer. She stared up into his blue eyes. With his dark blond hair spilling past broad shoulders and his black uniform hugging every delicious inch of his tall, muscled body, Gideon was the most handsome Fae in both the Winter and Summer kingdoms.

  Ladies in her father’s court whispered of the sexual prowess of Dark Fae like Gideon and their legendary ability to pleasure women. Ever since seeing Gideon six months ago while skipping stones in this very creek, she had fallen madly in love with him. He had made no move to even kiss her during their weekly clandest
ine meetings here. Gideon treated her with utter respect, and when he gazed at her, love shone in his eyes.

  She loved him for his loyalty, his strength, and his determination to end the bloody Fae Wars. Like her, Gideon tired of seeing his people suffer, struck down time and again by sword and dagger.

  Gideon gently tugged a lock of her long, ebony curls free from the gold and blue snood holding them fast. He traced a line over her trembling lips and a warm smile touched his own mouth.

  “In my dreams, I have you in my arms always, Eleanor. And we never have to part.”

  Much as she would love that dream to come true, Eleanor was far too pragmatic. “We have until the sun sinks behind the Mystic Mountains,” she reminded him. “And we must talk, my love. Today.”

  Gideon nodded. He retrieved the picnic basket and blanket, then accompanied her on a dirt path snaking down to Mirror Lake. From there, they traversed the slope of verdant green overlooking the lake and the tall, snow-capped mountains wreathing the water.

  They walked slowly. Eleanor reveled in the fresh, crisp air. At the castle, she was coddled and constantly pampered. Here with Gideon, she felt free and joyful.

  They reached their secret place—a stone cottage nestled amongst wildflowers in the meadow, built next to a rock wall. The cottage had been abandoned by a Fae who went to live in the Winter Kingdom. It was only two rooms, and offered a splendid view of the lake and mountains.

  Gideon snapped out the blanket upon the ground. “Food first. You need your energy.”

  He opened the picnic basket she’d ordered her handmaidens to pack with fresh fruit, meat, and fabled summer wine. They sat on the blanket, enjoying the feast, talking of their favorite meals, of Eleanor’s skills with the lyre and harp, and Gideon’s warrior training with his men.

  They talked of everything but the ongoing war and their fathers.

  Their romance was forbidden, for her father was the Summer King of the Seelie court, arch enemy of Gideon’s father, the Winter King of the Unseelie court.

  Sighing with contentment, Eleanor watched the birds in the nearby trees. She stretched out her hand and a red and blue songbird landed on her finger. She stroked the bird’s feathers as it cooed.

  Gideon smiled as he lazily stretched out his tall body upon the blanket. “Even the birds of the air are charmed by your presence, my lady.”

  She released the bird to the air, and her hand fell upon Gideon’s soft, dark blond hair. It spilled past his shoulders, thick and silky. Most male Fae had long hair, but Gideon’s was exquisite. She loved running her fingers through it.

  “When you fight, is your hair loose?”

  His eyes closed and he made a humming sound of pure enjoyment. “I tie it back so no one may grab it and yank me close enough to injure me.”

  “Has anyone tried?”

  “One did last week at the battle of the Mystic Forest. I sliced his head off.”

  Troubled, she kept stroking his hair. Gideon was the most fearsome fighter of the Winter Kingdom. He had taken many lives, but he also tired of the violence and ceaseless bloodshed.

  He sat up. “Let us talk no more of the war. Today is for peace and loving you.”

  Filled with daring mischief, she traced the aristocratic line of his cheekbone to his ear. Fae ears were an erogenous zone, she’d heard other women whisper. Males could not resist the sheer pleasure. Eleanor slid her finger along his ear, rubbing the pointed tip in a circular motion. Gideon groaned and gently pulled her hand away.

  “Don’t, my love. You know how it arouses me.” Wild heat filled his eyes. “If you wish to remain a virgin for our wedding night, do not tempt me further.”

  “Perhaps I have no desire to be one any longer, nor wait for a wedding night.” She wanted to seize the day, make love at last on this sloping mountainside, beneath the sharp blue sky, her love’s strong body sliding into hers to join them at last.

  “No Eleanor.” He kissed her hand, his long hair curtaining his face. “I will not shame you. You have too much honor and you are a princess of royal blood.”

  Sighing, she sat back. “I’d rather be a peasant girl. Then you would not hesitate to tumble me.”

  Gideon frowned. “It would matter not to be if you were common Fae or royal. I’d feel the same and want our wedding night to be special. I will love only you, Eleanor.”

  He left her on the blanket. When he returned, his hands were filled with the silver pink roses that grew wild near the cottage. He wove them into a crown and placed it upon her head.

  She smiled shyly at him.

  “A crown of flowers could never equal your beauty,” he said, his deep voice growing husky, admiration filling his dark blue eyes.

  When the last drop of wine had been drunk, he stretched out his long legs, leaned against the cottage wall. Eleanor unbound her hair and lay down, resting her head in his lap as he stroked her curls.

  “I tire of these secret meetings,” he murmured, gazing down at her. “I want to marry you. I will make you my own forever. And shout it out to the world.”

  She felt like purring with pleasure as he slid a hand up her neck, and then his light, teasing touch traced a line across her mouth.

  “Mayhap I shall do so and damn your father and mine.”

  Alarmed at his words, she sat up, catching his hand. “No Gideon. Tis too sudden and too risky to marry.”

  Gaze solemn, he studied her. “You are so lovely, Eleanor, I cannot help myself. I must steal a kiss from you.”

  Gideon lowered his mouth toward hers. She closed her eyes, feeling his warm, firm mouth settle over hers in the lightest of kisses. Eleanor parted her lips, and he deftly slipped his tongue inside. Startled, she moaned beneath the sensual flick of his tongue, and Gideon broke the kiss.

  He cupped her face, his expression earnest. “Forgive me, my love. I forgot your innocence.”

  “There is nothing to forgive.” She touched his mouth as she always had these past six months together. “I would have you steal one thousand kisses from me over one thousand lifetimes if we could be together. But sometimes destiny and the fates are not kind.”

  Gideon closed his eyes, his beautiful mouth flattening. “Then we must make our own destiny, and the hell with the fates.”

  She wanted no one else but Gideon for her mate.

  Eleanor tenderly caressed the strong line of his chin, awed by the power of her love for this Fae. The thought of losing him was unbearable. “Gideon, do you believe there are Fae who are twin souls?”

  “Yes.” He caught her hand in his, brought it to his mouth to brush a kiss against her knuckles. “There are certain Others who were halved at the time of their being, and they spend their lives searching for each other to feel complete.”

  “And if they fail to find one another in a lifetime?”

  “Then they keep returning to this plane of existence, until they do.” Fierce heat burned in Gideon’s blue gaze. “When we consummate our union, we will unite not only in the flesh, but spirit as well. The mating ritual we undergo on Unseelie wedding nights is sexually intense.”

  Heat suffused her face and need made her clench her thighs together, hard.

  Gideon’s gaze filled with tenderness. “I love you, Eleanor. I will love only you and I promise my heart to you for all eternity.”

  Her heart swelled as he repeated the words in ancient Fae. They were sacred wedding rites. Here, in this green meadow with the birds and the wildlife for witnesses, he pledged his forever love.

  He lowered his mouth to hers for another kiss, this one ripe with possession. When they broke apart, she cupped his cheek again. “I love you too, Gideon. I promise my heart to you through this life and the next.”

  They needed no officials, no other Fae to make their bond legal. Eleanor knew from this moment on, they were married in the eyes of Danu, their goddess. But it troubled her that while she had found such happiness, her people continued to suffer the horrors of war.

  “If something happens t
o me, Gideon, you must marry another. Another whose union will end this bloody war.” A chill rushed down her spine, as if she’d seen her future divined in the green grasses surrounding them.

  “Never.” His dark blue gaze remained intense. “I will never love nor marry another, dear Eleanor. You are the only one for me.”

  “Father will never let us wed,” she warned. “He hates all your kind.”

  “If he tires of this war as we all do, he will see our union as the only means to seal the peace between our two kingdoms. My father sees the wisdom in such a match, Eleanor. I have confessed my feelings for you and he is willing to set aside differences for the sake of peace, and he will hold fast to a truce between our two warring kingdoms.”

  But Gideon’s determination and confidence made her fearful for him. Her powerful father could hurt him, badly, even though Gideon’s father seemed reasonable. Their two warring dynasties would never see peace.

  “My father is too filled with hate.”

  “Then I shall have to present myself to him to ask for your hand.”

  Eleanor shook her head. “He may never grant permission. If something happens to me, Gideon, promise me you will find a way to bring peace to both kingdoms. I cannot bear to see my people suffer anymore.” She clasped his hands. “We must find a way. You and I are the only rational Fae in this morass of hatred and violence.”

  He hesitated.

  “Please, my love. If you love me, no matter what, you will promise to end this war and seal the peace.”

  Gideon closed his eyes. “I promise, even to the risk of my own life.”

  Shuddering, she let out a long sigh. “Then I shall promise as well, my love. Tomorrow I shall approach my father and ask permission for you to court me. And make me your bride.”

  He opened his eyes, his gaze fierce. “We may only have a lifetime together, but I will love you for all eternity, Eleanor.”

  He gathered her close, stroking her hair. For a long moment they clung to each other. And even though the dark prince was powerful, and charming and could persuade anyone, Eleanor had a terrible suspicion Gideon was wrong about their future.