The Mating Ritual: Werewolves of Montana Book 9

by Bonnie Vanak

Gideon stood and inclined his head to the king. “Thank you for your hospitality, King Oren. I would like to retire now and stroll with my bride in the moonlight.”

  Several pairs of eyes stared at him, as if Gideon remarked he wanted to fuck Alia in public. Impatience shot through him. He needed no permission to remove her from the table and after Oren’s ill treatment in the cell, he knew he had to show the king he would not be another simpering court noble, eager to solicit favor.

  No matter how important it was to break into the king’s inner circle to find out what the hell was going on in the Summer Court.

  Gideon bowed from the waist and watched Oren’s smirk. His actions amused the Summer King. He didn’t care if the king was amused or annoyed. Right now he had to get out of this room, and erase the stink of something foul from his nostrils.

  He walked down to the table where Alia sat with the court ladies. Gideon bowed again, and saw several females sigh.

  “Lady Alia, will you grant me the pleasure of a stroll this lovely evening?”

  She looked at his outstretched hand as one would regard a poisonous snake, but gave a small nod and rose.

  Her palm was small and chilled in his grip. He held her hand as they left the castle, entering the outer courtyard.

  At the gate, she balked, staring out at the road. “I have not been beyond the castle grounds at night. My father’s security force says the dark forest is too dangerous and filled with creatures who roam and…hurt.”

  Interesting. Gideon wanted to explore the castle boundaries, for he suspected whatever evil was festering in the summer court came from outside. But he also felt the inherent need to protect his bride. “Shall we walk in the royal gardens? Perhaps you may point out the various flowers and plants to me. The fame of the gardens extends far beyond these boundaries, indeed, even to the Winter Kingdom.”

  Alia gave a shy smile. “That would be lovely.”

  A narrow alleyway cut through the courtyard. Imposing granite walls, studded with diamonds that twinkled in the moonlight, rose on either side of them. Gideon had the feeling some of the diamonds were actually spyholes for castle inhabitants to see who walked in the alley. He suspected there were quite a few spyholes in this castle. Intrigue upon intrigue.

  They finally cleared the alleyway and entered a wide open space. Tiers of gardens greeted them as they walked down the granite steps. Moonlight dappled the thick oak and sycamore trees. The woman at his side, her long, dark curls bound up in a snood, was demure and quiet. In her white wool gown, the bodice embroidered with azure and silver thread, and a blue sash around her slender waist, she looked lovelier than the other women in court who dressed in brilliant peacock colors. Alia’s bared left arm bore a silver circlet adorned with sapphires that sparkled in the moonlight. Other than the gemstones in her ears, she wore no other jewelry.

  Alia had no need of such adornments. His lust rose as he thought of the pleasure of bedding her tomorrow night.

  As a Dark Fae of royal blood, he never denied the more deviant, sexual side of his nature. Only with Eleanor, his true love, had Gideon thought of curbing it. He looked at Alia, wondering if she were strong enough to endure the sex required for a traditional Dark Fae mating night.

  Sex, not lovemaking. Lovemaking had been reserved for only one woman, and she had been dead and buried for nearly a thousand years. He vowed to never love another woman.

  But sex, especially between mates, was a far different matter. He would enjoy teaching Alia the pleasures of bed sport.

  Handcuffs, he mused. Silver handcuffs with tiny diamonds set in them, lined with fur so the wrists would not bruise. Yes, she would wear them well. The skin set over delicate bone looked tender, and he would not want to hurt her when he tied her up for the mating ritual on their wedding night. Ropes of whisper thin velvet for her ankles.

  His sex stirred as he imagined Alia naked, her white skin gleaming in the moonbeams, her thighs spread wide open and tied to the bedposts, her sex wet, pink, glistening…

  Gideon drew in a deep breath. King Oren would expect him to exercise his sexual nature. Indeed, the king had already ordered his servants to supply all Gideon’s requests at the manor where Gideon and Alia would live.

  There was one particular mating ritual Gideon must exercise. He hoped Alia was strong enough and not too timid. Sensing the strong spirit beneath her demure manner, he suspected she would be intrigued rather than shocked and dismayed.

  The Seelie had beautiful art, sparkling jewels, and enjoyed lavish feasts and balls, but the Unseelie delighted more in the sexual nature of life. They were naturally sensual beings, and when they took a mate, their mating was exhaustive—the couple firmly bonded in the flesh by the time dawn streaked the horizon.

  He wondered if any of Alia’s family had warned her about the rigorous ritual facing her tomorrow night.

  Hooking his hands behind his back, tempted to slide his arm around his intended, Gideon inhaled the fragrance of roses, night jasmine, lilies and freesia. Silver wind chimes hanging on low tree limbs sang in the slight breeze, adding further enchantment to the vista.

  He’d always enjoyed these gardens during his infrequent visits here. Tonight, however, an underlying odor laced through the fresh night air, the smell of carefully cultivated flowers stretching for more than a mile.

  Nostrils flaring, he tried to pinpoint it as Alia bent over to sniff a white rose climbing on an archway trellis. Odd. It wasn’t particularly foul, but definitely foreign.

  “Does your father plant iron in the gardens to deter thieves?”

  Alia straightened. In the light of the full moon, he could see a flash of confusion on her face before she arranged her features in a blank expression. “No. As you already know, my lord, iron is painful for Fae, and he has the best gardeners in the kingdom. Father would not want to harm them in their tasks.”

  Not unless they were women. The words lingered on the tip of his tongue. Gideon took her hand. “Come.”

  Exploring that peculiar smell was not how he’d intended to spend the night before his wedding, but what better time and excuse? Gideon traversed a pebbled pathway leading to the edge of the forest. Lights from fairy houses set among the tree branches glittered like tiny, iridescent candles the wizards had once put on a birthday cake for Cadeyrn, the oldest of the Brehon. It had been Xavier’s idea of a joke, placing so many candles on a cake for a five thousand year-old wizard that the icing melted and ran off the platter and Tristan held a fire extinguisher at the ready.

  The memory made him smile. He wondered if his fellow wizards were burdened with his duties now that he was incapacitated.

  He missed them. It was such a novel emotion that he nearly stepped on the still, silent form in the pathway.

  “Careful,” Alia cried out, putting her arm in front of him. She crouched down to examine the fallen bird, cradling it in her hands. “Oh no. He’s gone. What could have done this?”

  Gideon studied the poor, dead bird. Yellow beak, yellow and black body, he had much enjoyed listening to its song as he strolled these gardens at night, invisible to all but the creatures of the air and land.

  He placed his palm over the dead bird, his heart giving an unexpected tug at her obvious distress. “Perhaps it was his time.”

  “It’s barely out of the nest. Something must have killed it.”

  “A predator.”

  “There are none here. Father warded the gardens against any raptors or other creatures that would harm the songbirds. People come from around the kingdom to hear their song.”

  Gently, he took the bird from her trembling hands. Anger filled him. “This was nothing natural. Its neck is twisted.”

  Moisture shimmered in Alia’s eyes. “Who would do such a cruel thing?”

  “I don’t know.” The underlying feeling that something was so very wrong with this court increased.

  “It’s such a sweet bird. I listened to its song each morning when I came to the gardens.” Alia scrubbed her hands a
gainst her gown. “We can’t leave him here. He needs to return to the earth to regenerate his spirit.”

  Remembering the beliefs of this court and how important it was to bury dead creatures, he nodded at the tall hedges that acted as a fence around the gardens. Beyond the gardens was the dark forest, silent, deep. Gideon glanced at the blue fabric encircling her waist. “Give me your sash so I may wrap him.”

  Without hesitation, she untied the cloth. He liked her even more for it. Gently, he wrapped the bird in the cloth and handed it to her to hold.

  She palmed the lifeless bird with such gentle care, it warmed his heart. Alia was one of the few compassionate Fae he’d met since his arrival.

  “We won’t bury him here, but at the forest’s edge.”

  Alia nibbled on her lush lower lip. “It’s dangerous to venture beyond the castle grounds at night.”

  With a solemn air, he removed the knife sheathed at his hip. “My lady, no one will dare touch you anymore. I can protect us both.”

  She tilted her head, looking adorable as she gave him the ages-old look of a woman confronting a man overconfident of his abilities.

  For a moment, a heavy ache settled in his heart. Eleanor used to give him the very same look.

  “With that? There are creatures in the forest who would laugh at such a weapon. I have sewing needles sharper than that ceremonial dagger. Would you like to borrow one?”

  Gideon grinned, liking her spirit. He sheathed the blade. “Perhaps I shall. But the blade is merely a tool. The real power lies in this.”

  Fisting his hand, he took a deep breath and drew on all the dark powers surging inside him, magick he had little used since becoming the Crimson Wizard. The rush filled him, exhilaration he had not felt in many decades. Gideon closed his eyes, the power threatening to overshadow him, and with the discipline of hundreds of years, centered and honed it. He poured it into his palm, opened his eyes and his fist at the same time.

  Alia gasped, stepping back. In the luminous silver light of the glowing ball of pure energy in his hand, he could see fear and awe sketching her expression.

  “What does it do?”

  “You saw what I did to Lord Negelim. This is more lethal. It can stop a charging Balist in its tracks.”

  “Balist?”

  “A creature who lives in the Winter Kingdom. Has four horns on its head and looks a little like a rhino from the Skin world, except the Balist blows flames from its mouth.”

  Alia gave a delicate shudder.

  “My power will not harm you,” he promised, bouncing the energy ball in his hand like a child’s toy. “It only goes where I send it and I would never use it against you.”

  Eyes huge with sorrow, she gazed at him. “You would not? What if you enter this marriage to harm me and my father, and begin another war?”

  With his other hand, Gideon tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her hair. “I am not in the habit of killing women, except with pleasure. Trust me, Alia.”

  She bit her lip, her luscious, lower lip that was ripe and plump, and so kissable. Alia held the bird with her left hand and stretched out her right hand. Wonder replaced the fear on her face. “Can I touch it?”

  “After tomorrow, when we are married and our union is consummated and our bond complete. It will recognize you as mine. For now, it is too dangerous for you to draw near.” Gideon’s loins tightened again as he thought about the mating ritual. He bounced the ball in his hand and then compelled it to merge again with his flesh. It vanished with a soft pop.

  A shadow touched her face. “You would never use this against me? No matter what I did to you?”

  Gideon touched her cheek, sensing her vulnerability. “No. You are to be my wife. I give you my word of honor as a Fae that I will never use my powers against you.”

  Her mouth gave a tremulous wobble. “Then let’s bury the bird at the forest’s edge.”

  After sliding her right hand into his left palm, she tugged him toward a rose trellis cut into the hedge border. “Come this way. There is a secret exit.”

  Amusement filled him. Alia may have seldom ventured outside the castle grounds in the company of others, but he suspected she’d snuck off on her own a few times.

  The trellis archway had a round gate. Gideon tested it. Locked.

  Alia shook her head. “No, not here.”

  She led him a few feet from the trellis and reached into the hedge. Suddenly, a section of it swung open. Gideon whistled, and examined the opening. “A hidden access point.”

  “My brother had it built into the royal gardens when father was away.” Her smile was conspiratorial, and he chuckled, remembering the time when Mauricio slid away during one of Gideon’s rare visits by joining the court entertainers and pretending to be a juggler.

  “Prince Mauricio always was a clever fellow and liked escaping from court.”

  Alia tilted her head at him again as they emerged from the gardens, and then she closed the hedge gate by pressing on it. “Have you met my brother before?”

  He cursed the slip. “He seems like the type to do so.”

  Distracting her by pointing out the slope of meadow stretching before the trees of the dark forest began, he nodded. “The edge of the Mystic Forest should have softer soil, easier to dig.”

  At the forest’s edge, he found a patch of earth near a few standing stones. Knowing this ground was protected, he dropped to his knees and began digging. Alia squatted down beside him, cradling the bird in her palms.

  “A prince who does not hesitate to soil his hands. My father would have a legion of servants to do this. He thinks manual labor is for peasants and he forbade me from gardening for that very reason.”

  Nothing the contemptuous note in her voice, Gideon shook his head. “All Fae have a deep connection to the earth. To deny it is to deny ourselves. Your father is a fool.”

  She gave a delicate little sniff. “I know.”

  They gave the bird back to the earth, Gideon patting the down the soil. He dusted off his hands and sat back on his haunches, looking into the quiet, dark forest.

  Alia sat on the ground, her posture still rigid and regal, despite the informal position. “The woods are quiet tonight. Some nights you can hear the beasts and the creatures walking about restlessly.” Absently, she drew a rune in the dirt and then a few more. “When my father disciplined one of his younger wives, the creatures were most restless.”

  Anger stirred inside him, a lethal blade. “Disciplined how? For what purpose?”

  She bit her lower lip. “He had her flogged in public because she refused to wear a low-cut gown he’d ordered her to wear. Three lashes.”

  Unable to help himself, he swore softly. “What in seven hells is wrong with this place? With your father? He was never this cruel.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You are a stranger here and our world has seen much darkness as of late.”

  Gideon brushed the barest of kisses against her cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin, at the gentleness of her heart. “Then all the better for us to marry, my sweet. Darkness is an old, familiar friend to me. I can protect you from harm.”

  She threw him a quick, startled look. “I am no weak, simpering female to have a man stand up for me, and order me about.”

  “No, you are not. But there are skills you have yet to develop, skills that as your husband I can hone and refine to enable you to fight enemies.”

  Huge eyes met his. “Women are forbidden from such knowledge. We are to never become warriors.”

  Fear seemed to leech from her pores. He could smell it as surely as he scented the flowers in the distant garden.

  “We are all on a journey to knowledge. Why should the truth be hidden from you simply because of your sex?” Gideon caressed her bare arm. “Men and women need to share knowledge and aid each other. That is how it is in the Winter Kingdom. Women have much to share and teach their husbands, as husbands teach their wives.”

  “What can you teach me be
sides fighting?”

  “So many things.” He kept stroking her arm, enjoying her little shiver of awareness. Alia would make a splendid student as he tutored her in the art of love. “Tomorrow night, after we are married, I shall enjoy demonstrating them.”

  Alia shivered again. “I have heard men from the Winter Kingdom are experienced in sexual deviance.”

  He would not lie to her about this. She needed to know what tomorrow would bring. “There is a mating ritual all Fae from my kingdom perform on their wedding night. It is rather…intense.” Compelled to soothe any fears she might have, he slid a hand along her cheek, his touch light and reassuring. “I promise you this, Alia, I will not hurt you.”

  Her rosebud mouth quirked upward in the ghost of a smile in the moonlight. “Good to know.”

  He stood. As he took her hand to walk back to the castle, Gideon silently added, Not unless you want it.

  Alia started to rise, and then glanced down at the small mound where they’d buried the bird. A startled gasp fled her mouth. “Gideon! Look!”

  He stared at the moving soil. Alia dug with furious haste and uncovered the bird. The cloth was wriggling. Gideon unwrapped the bird. The now alive bird.

  It gave a faint chirp and hopped onto Alia’s outstretched finger. Gideon studied its now healed neck.

  “Maybe you weren’t dead. Oh goddess Gideon, we buried him alive.” Her gaze was filled with distress.

  “I assure you, it was quite dead.”

  A chill raced down his spine as he examined the runes Alia had written in the earth next to the buried bird.

  He had written the very same runes a few times during his tenure as the Crimson Wizard. With each passing century, he’d increased his magick, gaining even the ability to restore life to winged creatures and small animals. Fairies, sprites…

  Birds.

  Impossible. Gideon flexed his fingers as confusion filled him. He’d lost his powers. Had they been restored?

  Leaving her to coo to the bird, he walked away, behind a tree. Gideon tried to summon the pure magick deep inside him, the magick that had bonded to his soul the day he ascended to become the Crimson Wizard.