The Mating Ritual: Werewolves of Montana Book 9

by Bonnie Vanak

  Elvin hugged him tight. “Will you be back?”

  “When I can.” He exchanged troubled gazes with Alia. “I promise.”

  The sun had begun to set when Gideon took the reins to drive back to the castle. Too exhausted and emotionally drained to drive, Alia let him take charge.

  “We should return to the feast,” she ventured, though it was the last place she desired to be, after seeing the deprivation of the forest-dwelling Fae. Alia doubted she could taste another bite of the wedding supper.

  Gideon made a dismissive gesture. “Let them all rot. I cannot eat in good conscience after seeing such hunger.”

  Like her, Gideon seemed to detest the imbalance and suffering in her kingdom.

  Caution, she warned herself. He is not a good person. He may be saying this to gain favor with you.

  But his sunny blue gaze turned stormy, flashing with anger. “There is no excuse for Fae in this kingdom to be starving. Why are they in such dire condition?”

  “The king does not allow the subsidy the wilding Fae used to receive from the court during the harvest. They once gleaned the fruits and berries from the fields that were not choice, and were able to sell them at market for a good price. But last year my father ordered the leftover food destroyed rather than allow wildking folk into the royal fields.”

  “Your father is a right bastard.” His quiet tone was a cutting blade, more lethal than if he’d shouted.

  An eerie, dark glow pulsed from Gideon, grayish shadows mixed with silver sparks. The raw power made her heart race. She had never seen another dark Fae exhibit such magick. Then again, Alia seldom had dealings with Dark Fae.

  Gideon flicked the reins, took a deep breath, and the glow faded. “My apologies, Alia. When my temper grows out of control, it manifests itself in magick.”

  They rode in silence for a few minutes. Then she rested her hand on his arm. “Thank you for being good to them.”

  A grim smile touched his full, sensual mouth. “I should have done more. Have you ever asked the Crimson Wizard to aid the wilding Fae?”

  “The Crimson Wizard.” Alia gave a humorless laugh. “Now that is a joke. I would sooner call upon the Dark Lord of the underworld than that wizard.”

  Gideon’s jaw tensed. “Why? He is your guardian and judge.”

  “Not mine. Not for any females in my kingdom. We called to him once and he never appeared.”

  “Perhaps it was a matter he could not address and he had to let the situation play out as it should.”

  “Maybe. Or perhaps he was on vacation and cares not about this court, especially the women. Or the wilding Fae. I heard he was a Dark Fae once and he favors the Winter Court because it was his home.”

  “He is fair and favors no court over the other.”

  Alia gave a bitter laugh. “Oh? Then why does he wear red, accented with gold? Gold is the color of the Winter Kingdom.”

  “You argue about his dress? Should he accessorize in order to please you?”

  “It’s a statement.” Alia’s stomach clenched with anger. “That’s all I need to know, in addition to the fact he seldom shows up when you need him.”

  “Perhaps he was never needed until now.”

  Gideon flicked the reins as the soaring diamond-entrusted turrets and spires of the Summer castle came into sight. Her father had wealth enough to decorate his castle with precious gems, yet the king was stingy with leftover food. It had not always been this way. She remembered as a child Oren giving her emeralds and rubies to play with and share with her friends, tossing her the jewels much as Gideon had handed out the sweets to the wilding Fae children.

  Oren had been a generous king then. He’d even invited the wilding Fae to a great banquet once a year to celebrate the harvest. Each family had left with enough food to last for a year.

  The days of such banquets were long gone. When she’d pleaded with him to send a barrel of milk for the starving children, he sent an energy bolt at her. Alia had been incapacitated for three days.

  The only thing she could do was to enlist the fairies help in sneaking food and goods to the wilding Fae. She’d worked out a system with the help of a friendly kitchen cook who detested Oren.

  Sometimes late at night she’d lie in her bed, gazing at the sky and seeing the clouds turn black, blotting out starlight as if a terrible plague gripped her land. Alia would wonder what darkness had infiltrated her home, what evil had turned the king from a benefactor to a dictator.

  “Don’t criticize what you do not know, Alia. There are reasons for everything. The wizard does not favor one court over the other.”

  “He’s supposed to be all powerful and all seeing. So what other conclusion should I reach?”

  Hands tensing on the reins, he suddenly pulled the horses to a stop. They were a short distance from the lowered drawbridge. Gideon turned to her.

  “How long has this been going on, Alia? The starving wilding Fae?”

  Emotion squeezed her throat. “Two years ago. If you are right, then why did the Crimson Wizard not correct these wrongs?”

  Rose and purple streaked the horizon over the Mystic Mountains as the sun dipped below the jagged, snow-capped peaks. Shadows played along the sides of the road. Creatures of menace lived in these woods closest to the castle. She seldom ventured outside the castle without an escort.

  Alia knew that Oren had no great concern for her safety; he worried more about controlling her.

  “If the Crimson Wizard knew about such sufferings, he would not have allowed them. Something cloaked them from his knowledge.” Gideon’s hand fell to the dagger at his hip. “A powerful shadow might have disguised the court’s inner workings. Have you witnessed anything overtly evil?”

  The question startled her. “No, my lord. We were brought up that the Summer Kingdom is filled with light and good, and all the evil belonged to your court.”

  At the biting sarcasm in her words, his mouth quirked upward briefly. Gideon drummed his fingers on the leather seat. “Of course. Such lies are what propagated the Fae Wars years ago. I heard too many of them.”

  He almost seemed lost in thought, as if he had been there himself. But the Fae Wars were more than one thousand years ago. Gideon couldn’t be that old, though Fae aged at a snail’s pace after turning twenty-one.

  “If you heard the lies with your own ears, then I’d say you were an old man, not a young Fae.”

  Those full lips twitched upward again, as if her words amused him. Gideon covered her hand with his. His palm was warm, slightly calloused and his touch hinted of possessiveness. “Do you feel as I do, that it’s time to retire to our chambers and let them continue until dawn at the wedding feast and make total gluttons of themselves?”

  Feeling suddenly shy, she squeezed his fingers. Sitting at the table with the laughing nobles would make her ill. As much as she dreaded the marriage consummation, it was far preferable to pretending to enjoy herself at the wedding feast. “I have no desire to return to the table. My father would not expect us back at the feast.”

  Gideon picked up her hand, brushed a light kiss across her knuckles. “To our bedchamber.”

  5

  Alia quashed her nervousness after the stable hands took charge of the horses and Gideon led her into the cool, stone hallway of the castle. Two uniformed footmen, resplendent in silver and blue, bore torches glowing with yellow and pink fairy lights. They formally greeted them.

  “Lord Gideon, Lady Alia, we are here to escort you to the bridal chamber.”

  In the room, the footmen lit the lamps, filling the chamber with a soft golden glow. The summer court enjoyed modern luxuries indeed, the banquet hall had lighting much as electrical lights in the Skin world, but in this room, tradition abounded.

  A tradition she fervently loathed.

  Alia hugged herself, wishing she was far away. Gideon had been kind, but if she must go through with this physical end of marriage, why did it have to be in this chamber?

  Pretend there is
nothing wrong, for if you show anything more than mere bridal nerves, they will inform your father…and it can be terrible for you.

  When the guards closed the door behind them, Alia went to the window to look out at the moon and find her courage.

  Gideon removed the knife sheathed at his hip and began to draw runes on the walls. Each one sparkled.

  Overwhelmed with curiosity, she joined him, her voice a bare whisper. “What are you doing?”

  “There are eyes watching us now,” he murmured into her ear.

  “I know. They always do at each marriage consummation.”

  “I am casting a protective spell on these walls. I do not wish any of your father’s court to eavesdrop.”

  Protective runes. Alia watched the glowing gold lines turn black and then absorb into the soft green of the stone walls.

  “There.” He set down the dagger upon a table. “They will see what they expect. The glamour will hide us and give us privacy.”

  Doubts filled her. “It will not last. My father’s magick is quite powerful. Best to be quick to do the deed.”

  He arched a brow, considered. “When it comes to lovemaking, I am never quick. Your pleasure comes first, my sweet.”

  The concept was new to her. Men in this kingdom as of late were only concerned with their own sexual satisfaction.

  Gideon went to the window seat and sat, his long legs stretched out. He patted his lap. Alia came over, wondering if this was some odd Unseelie ritual.

  After kicking off her satin slippers, she sat on his lap. Gideon cupped her face. His touch was soothing, tender, as he stroked his thumbs over her chilled cheeks. “Are you nervous?”

  No use lying, for he surely could feel her pulse gallop. “Tis only natural.”

  His mouth was firm and warm over her pulse as he kissed her wrist. Nervous fear faded into pure sexual need, the ache between her legs intensifying. With all her heart, she wanted this Fae, wanted him to merge their bodies as one. Alia didn’t know why. She’d imagined this consummation as physical, with pleasure if Gideon was a considerate lover. But not with an overwhelming want as if all her emotions had been bottled up and she’d awaited this moment for a very long time.

  “Why do I feel as if I have known you my entire life and I have waited for this moment forever?” Gideon caressed her cheek, his blue gaze intense.

  His words echoed the feelings inside her. The attraction between them burned bright, yet beneath flickered more than sexual need. She did not understand it, but tonight, would let it fuel her desire for this Fae.

  Alia slid her arms around his neck. “Even though we just met, I am feeling the same. Yet this is a mere marriage for the sake of peace.”

  “Is it?” he murmured. “I think not. I believe we share something more.”

  Her throat went dry beneath the power of his gaze, the heat flaring in those blue eyes. Moonlight streamed through the windows, pooling between them. Hunger for him became an ache deep in her belly, pushing aside all else. She wanted this Fae, wanted him driving into her body, sealing them together with pleasure and passion.

  Beneath her simple white wedding gown, her nipples hardened to pearls, her skin flushed with heat. Gideon’s gaze burned into her, making her feel aware and alive and very much a woman.

  He was a Dark Fae, used to women capitulating to his sexual needs. A warrior of old, blood fired by battle and sexual conquest. Tonight, he was hers and hers alone. Alia climbed off his lap and lay against the cushions with an inviting smile.

  Gideon leaned forward and took her mouth in a light kiss, his mouth barely touching hers. When she sighed into his mouth, he deepened the kiss. He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth.

  He kept kissing her, his hands stroking her back in soothing circles, accustoming her to his touch. Leaving her mouth, he kissed the long slope of her neck, teased the soft skin there with a playful nip and then a soothing lick. Then he fisted a hand in her long hair and tipped her head back as he licked and suckled her throat.

  Something compelled her to slide her hands up, caress the tips of his pointed ears. Gideon closed his eyes and groaned.

  Fae ears were extremely sensitive, and highly erogenous, she’d heard.

  He covered her breast with a warm palm, playing with her nipple in a manner that told of years of experience in arousing women. Alia had no defenses against him. She lay back against the window cushions, letting him do as he wished.

  When he bent his head to take her nipple into his mouth, a gasp of pleasure escaped her. Through the silk of the gown, his mouth was hot and wet. He suckled her, swirling his tongue around one diamond hard nipple.

  Breathing ragged, she clung to him as he lifted her gown, baring her to the waist. Gideon slid a finger teasingly over her slit. As tradition demanded, she wore no underwear. The flesh between her legs pulsed with demand as he gently stroked. The wetness there seemed to please him, for he gave a very satisfied, very male smile.

  Nothing could prepare her for the pleasured shock as he thrust a finger inside her. Alia gasped as he rubbed against her inner, silky flesh, finding pleasure points that had her arching her hips upward, pumping as if her body pleaded for more.

  “Excellent,” he murmured. “You’re quite responsive to me.”

  But she was no slave to lie there meekly. As he slipped another finger inside her, and his thumb rubbed her outer, most sensitive place in the most intimate of caresses, Alia leaned forward. Cupping his face, she took his mouth in a long, drugging kiss…

  While playing with the tips of his ears with one hand…

  And feeling the hardness in his lap with her other.

  Gideon fumbled with the laces on his trousers. She pushed them down his lean hips, freeing his erection.

  He kept kissing her, thrusting his fingers into her tight, hot wetness, as her hand cupped his long, thick shaft. It jerked beneath her exploring fingers, the bulbous tip weeping liquid. Alia rubbed it along the underside. A moan wrung from him, and he worked his fingers harder, circling faster with his thumb. The exquisite pressure coaxed her higher and higher until she could not think.

  Alia’s hands fell to her sides as she pumped her hips upward in time with his thrusting fingers. She came apart, crying out his name, her innermost flesh squeezing as she fell against the cushions.

  Gideon gazed at her, hot and hungry, staring at her most private place, the feminine flesh she knew gleamed with her wetness. He was her husband now and he had the right to do with her as he pleased.

  A hint of sensual cruelty played about his mouth. He jumped to his feet, shed his clothing and stood before her.

  Breath caught in her throat. She’d seen him naked before, in the dungeon, but in the shadowy light of the flickering candles, he was magnificent. Alia stood before him and touched the muscles of his ridged abdomen, felt him quiver beneath her fingers.

  Gideon looked at her solemnly and clasped her hand. He examined her palm. “Your fingers are calloused.”

  Alarm flared, but she managed a smile, hiding her fears. He must not suspect her secret.

  “Simply because I am a princess does not mean I let others plant my garden for me.”

  He made her feel sharpened with awareness, and not merely from the orgasm he’d given her. For the first time in years, she felt fully alive.

  Broad shoulders appeared molded from firm muscle and sinew. Dark gold hair dusted his strong biceps and forearms, and powerful chest. Muscles ridged his flat abdomen, along with a faint line of hair stretching from his belly button down to the thicker nest at his groin. His hips were lean, tapering to a fine V.

  She flushed upon seeing his erection, pulsing and ready for her, and her fascinated gaze dove down to his long, muscled limbs. Trim feet, rounded toes. Perfect.

  And then she looked upward again, at his hands. A slight gasp fled her.

  Burn scars encircled his wrists. Gideon’s gaze was hooded. He extended his hands.

  Alia clasped them, staring at the brutal marks. “Th
ese were forged by iron.”

  “They are quite old,” he said softly, and she caught a hint of sorrow flickering in those deep blue eyes.

  An unknown impulse had her feathering her lips over one wrist, kissing his scars. “I could tear apart the one who hurt you, husband.”

  Something flickered behind his gaze. Relief? She was not sure, and had no time to ponder it for suddenly he fisted her gown and with a powerful tug, ripped it from her body.

  The thin material was made to be shredded, but the violence of the action startled her. It spoke of a Fae eager to possess her body, a man who would not wait to claim his prize.

  Clad only in her white lace stockings, she felt raw and exposed. But his gaze shone with sheer admiration.

  “You are exquisite,” he murmured, palming one breast. He teased her nipple, flicking it with his thumb.

  Gideon slid his hands beneath her and carried Alia over to the bed. So strong and assured. His erection, now an angry red, pulsed and throbbed. He placed her in the middle of the soft mattress. Beneath her, the white sheet that would soon be stained with proof of their joining was a solemn reminder this was a marriage between two royal offspring of two powerful kings.

  He climbed over her, nudging her legs open. Silky hair on his legs rubbed against her sensitive skin. Bracing himself on his elbows, he lowered his head and kissed her, his mouth firm, warm and arousing her all over again.

  His shaft was thick, long and felt hot as he pressed it against her soaked folds. The head of his penis penetrated slightly. Pressure increased, threatening to become burning pain. Alia sucked in a breath. Yet much as she wanted to separate herself from this, pretend it was only sex, she sensed it was much richer and meaningful.

  Gideon laced his fingers between hers. Long dark blond hair spilled down past his broad shoulders, framing his handsome face as he looked down at her, expression fierce with sexual need. But in his eyes she saw a piercing longing and tenderness.

  “Look at me, Alia,” he said quietly. “Know it is me who takes you this night. See only me and no one else.”