The Mating Ritual: Werewolves of Montana Book 9

by Bonnie Vanak

Gideon scrubbed a hand over his jaw, feeling his tension rise. He told Kieran about their encounter with the fungus in Cantabria.

  “I know about it. The king warned all in the Winter Kingdom to avoid that land for the time being.”

  “King Byrne is not sending anyone to investigate?” The lack of action surprised Gideon. The ruler had always been proactive and very protective of his people and anyplace they ventured.

  Kieran sighed. “He’s kept this from you, Gideon, but we’re too damn busy trying to guard our own borders. There’s rumors of Oren wishing to break the truce. Two days ago, my men caught a Seelie spy in the Black Forest.”

  That was not unusual. “And?”

  “He was quite insane. Bleeding from every pore. And stronger than usual.”

  Gideon’s breath hitched. “Scathal.”

  “You destroyed that lab and the formula.”

  “Someone has rediscovered how to make it potent. You took precautions and did not touch him.”

  “Of course we did not. We had to use fairy flames to destroy him. I believe Oren sent him as an emissary to weaken our ranks.” Kieran frowned. “King Byrne intends to abdicate once his child is born. Prince Dominic will rule in his stead. He’s wise but untried and young.”

  Gideon had known about king’s plans, but it hadn’t been a concern because he’d planned to be on hand to guide Dominic through his first moon season in ruling. Now, without his powers, he could not.

  “Gideon, this is a lousy time for the goddess to have drained your magick. We really need you.”

  An understatement. Yet deep inside, Gideon knew there was a feeling of rightness about what had been done, a certainty that Alia played a greater role than he could imagine.

  “Have you sent any spies into the Diamond Palace?”

  “One or two. But they reported nothing much. They are cat shifters, and unable to infiltrate deep, since King Oren holds no love for pets.”

  His loyal friend’s gaze searched his. “What have you learned since your marriage?”

  Gideon laughed. Trust Kieran to conclude that he’d gained access to the inner court. “I’ve met with nobles, shared wine and ale with them. These are nobles who are elder, have been with Oren many, many years. They are deeply worried the king is on the verge of insanity, if not already there.”

  Kieran looked at the double doors to the dining hall. “Your bride does not know anything?”

  “She’s led a sheltered life in the palace.” He frowned. “Kieran, let’s walk with her in the forest after the meal. I need your help with something. I’m taking Alia to Fortress Point.”

  The shifter gave an approving nod. “While she’s here, you want to teach her. Good. I doubt you’d have much opportunity in her kingdom.”

  When they returned to the dining table, Kieran regaled Alia with wild tales of his exploits as a young cub. And then the double doors burst open wide and a loud voice bellowed.

  “Cub! Welcome home!” King Byrne strode into the room. No ceremony, no formality. He engulfed Gideon in a bear hug. Gideon hugged him back, fierce love for this king in his heart. Danu’s glamour held fast, for the king believed Gideon was his youngest son.

  “Where’s this wife of yours? I hear she’s a beauty.”

  Gideon drew Alia forward, who curtseyed. “Your Majesty. Thank you for the pleasure of your hospitality.”

  “Well, well.” The king picked up her hand and kissed it. “They were wrong. You’re not a beauty. You’re much more. How the hell did that old beast Oren sire someone who has both beauty and manners?”

  Gideon bit back a smile as Alia’s eyes sparkled. “It’s all from my mother’s side. He only contributed the seed and a few grunts.”

  King Byrne threw back his head and laughed. “I like her, son. She’ll do fine.”

  He drew Alia over to the chair, pulled it out for her. “Are you certain you don’t want to live here in the Winter Kingdom? We have a reputation as deviant and ill-mannered, but by goddess, we have fun.”

  She gave him a soft smile. “Thank you for asking me. Perhaps we’ll visit again soon. I like to have fun.”

  After lunch, the king excused himself to visit his wife. Kieran accompanied them as Gideon took Alia on a tour of the grounds outside the palace.

  “There are creatures here who might harm you since you are Seelie, but not while I am here. Most simply want to play,” Gideon assured her.

  “You smell nice to us,” Kieran added helpfully.

  Alia laughed.

  As they walked through the Black Forest, the dark, sometimes dangerous wood where Gideon had played as a young Fae, a loud growl rumbled through the trees.

  Alia gasped as a four-legged beast with green fur jumped down from the trees. Immediately Kieran shifted into jaguar, all muscled black cat with sleek fur and sharp claws. The cat snarled at the Walakitane.

  Gideon sighed. “Alia, this is Henry. He’s a Walakitane and he won’t hurt you. He’s simply…annoying.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “I know. You only want to play.” She reached out a hand to the beast, who stopped snarling and began to purr.

  Blinking hard, Gideon searched his memories and then regarded Henry. The beast had said the exact same thing to Eleanor once.

  A hollow ache settled in his chest over his heart. Absently, he rubbed the spot. So many memories of Eleanor. At times he’d envied Xavier, the Crystal Wizard, for losing memories of his first love.

  But Gideon’s memories of his first and only love had kept him from crossing over to the darkest side. He cherished them, even when he felt the piercing grief that had little faded over a thousand years. At least he felt, and that was something.

  “Have you ever been in this kingdom?” he asked his wife.

  She shook her head. Henry shifted back to his human form, gave Alia a love-struck look and shuffled forward to sniff at her. Kieran, still in jaguar form, gave a warning growl, which made Henry step back.

  “Hi Alia. You smell like Lady Eleanor. I liked Lady Eleanor,” Henry said, looking even more morose. “Why did that fat fuck have to kill her?”

  “Henry.” Gideon’s voice rose on a warning note. “Go find a nice lizard to eat.”

  Kieran shifted back to human form as well, clothing himself by magick. “I saw one in the patch where the wild mushrooms grow.”

  The Walakitane lumbered off with a loud grumble in his stomach.

  As they continued to walk through the woods, following the narrow path, Gideon didn’t want to ponder Henry’s odd words. Alia might resemble Eleanor slightly in her spirit and gentle heart, but that was all. The Walakitane had a very long memory, and Eleanor had impressed him, so much that Henry had mourned for a full century after she’d died.

  Pushing the idea out of his mind, he led Alia through the forest until they reached the ruins of a stone house. Ferns and ivy draped over the walls. An enormous oak tree stood next to the ruins, sheltering it with its wide canopy.

  Alia gave him a questioning look. “A lover’s retreat?”

  “No, a military practice area. Kieran, will you get the chest?”

  Kieran walked into the house through the archway. When he returned, he carried a wood chest on his shoulders. With a grunt, he set it on the leaf-littered ground.

  Gideon knelt and opened it, pleased the necessary supplies were still present. Alia stared at the contents.

  “What is this?” Her gaze fell upon a short sword, gleaming in the sunlight dappling the chest.

  “I’m going to teach you how to fight.”

  Gently, he tipped up her mouth, opened with astonishment. “Don’t look so shocked, my sweet. You did marry an Unseelie and we are quite protective of our women.”

  “It is forbidden in my father’s kingdom for women to carry weapons.”

  Longing shadowed her face as she dropped to her knees to pull out a quiver filled with sharp arrows.

  “Yes. That is why we’re teaching you here and now. I won’t have you unable to defend yourself if I’
m not present,” he told her.

  “You mean when you plan to abandon me and return to this kingdom to live,” she murmured.

  “I told you, I will stay as long as I can.”

  His chest ached again at the thought of leaving her. He was growing fond of Alia. Emotions that were slowly deepening into something stronger.

  Love.

  Dismissing the thought, he focused on finding her suitable armor while Kieran organized the swords. They had only this afternoon, but perhaps his bodyguard and friend could teach Alia a few basic moves.

  Because he didn’t know what awaited them back in her father’s kingdom. Whatever it was, it was growing stronger and he had to track it down and find it before it destroyed everything in its path.

  Gideon was a contradiction in everything she’d been taught about the Unseelie. He wanted to teach her how to fight! Standing before the ruins, short steel sword in hand as she faced her sparring partner, Alia almost wished he were cruel and indifferent. He would not have put her in this position, threatening to unveil all she’d desperately hidden.

  The leather vest she wore over the soft tunic was aged, but still tough. The leggings fit her perfectly as if made for her. Gideon told her they were magick, designed to fit whoever needed them.

  Kieran pounced, his sword cutting through the air. Automatically, she parried. Metal clinked against metal, the sound echoing through the quiet wood. Sitting atop a tall, moss-draped stone, one leg bent, Gideon observed.

  At first the jaguar shifter went slow, moves that a Fae youngling could easily block. The element of surprise aided her in fighting, and Alia learned to use her smaller height and frame as an advantage.

  Kieran picked up the pace, circling around her. She studied his body. Each warrior had a different method of moving, signaling when he was about to attack. But Kieran was a shifter, and shifters moved with fast reflexes. Still, he did have one tell—he narrowed his eyes before he struck.

  She continued dueling with him, pretending she was slower and weaker.

  Wait for it… Now!

  As the shifter extended his sword, she moved her blade as if to strike, and then advanced. Alia brought her weapon up in a vertical position and then wrapped her blade around his, then pointing down toward the outside, yanking her sword hard and fast.

  The sword flew out of Kieran’s hand and landed with a soft thud on the ground.

  Kieran regarded her with those dark, cool eyes that saw too much. “You have some skill with the sword.”

  “I’m a quick learner,” she muttered.

  “Halt!” Gideon leapt off the stone and strode over to her. He removed the sword from her hands, gave it to Kieran. Then her husband examined her right palm.

  “Not the callouses of a woman forced to do manual labor as you told me, but those of a trained warrior who practices,” he murmured.

  Her heart sank. “Now you know. And what will you do, my lord?”

  “I’ll bend you over my knee if you don’t call me Gideon.” He looked at Kieran. “Give her all you have. She needs a good partner, someone lightning fast and you’re the best.”

  Another surprise. Her heart pounded harder, more from Gideon’s nearness than the idea of learning from a skilled warrior like Kieran. “You’re not going to punish me for lying?”

  Gideon touched her cheek, grazing it with this thumb. “I brought you here to learn to fight, Alia. Will you trust me?”

  Could she dare to try? So many secrets, so many years of hiding her true nature, she didn’t know how to be her real self around men of power. She lifted her gaze to those incredible blue eyes, saw no guile, no shadows there.

  “What if this is a guise to coax out my fighting skills and then you reveal them to the Summer King to gain his favor?”

  His gaze narrowed. “I would not do that, nor would any reasonable man. I have no trust of your father, Alia.”

  “I have known a few who have betrayed my trust, and they were called reasonable by those in power.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Can I trust you, husband?”

  A slow smile was her answer. Gideon tied his long, silky hair back with a leather thong. He unbuttoned his leather vest, and then tugged his shirt over his head. He faced her, wearing only boots and his trousers.

  Mercy, it was difficult to think straight in view of the hard contours of his chest, all smooth, golden skin set over rippling muscles.

  Gideon stepped back and toed the sword she’d forced out of Kieran’s hand. He flipped it upward and caught it one-handed and then lunged at her.

  Alia parried his thrust, and then struck out with her blade. To her horror, Gideon lowered his sword and she stabbed him.

  The point sank deep into his chest. Immediately she withdrew her weapon. Crimson blossomed on his skin, dripping down the rippled muscles of his abdomen.

  Crying out, she ran over to him, only to see the wound on his chest close over almost immediately.

  With a trembling hand, she touched his bare chest, the faint pink mark the only indication she’d stabbed him.

  “You can’t kill me, Alia. I’m immortal.”

  Foolishly, she gaped at him. Gideon gave a gentle smile. “No one else but the three of us here have this knowledge. I have shared one of my secrets since you shared one of yours.”

  Kieran chuckled. “Good strike, Alia. I’ve been waiting for nearly a millennia to see someone thump him.”

  Gideon didn’t blink but he turned, drew out the dagger at his hip and threw it at Kieran. The shifter caught it by the hilt and waved it. “Nice knife, but I prefer my claws. Now, if you’re going to continue the entertainment, let me get more comfortable.”

  He set down the dagger, shifted into his jaguar form, then leapt up onto a tree branch. Tail draping over the limb, Kieran lay on the branch, his big dark eyes watching them.

  “Lazy cat,” Gideon shouted up at him. “Get down here at fight like a man, you pussy!”

  Kieran’s answer was to lift a middle claw at his prince.

  Alia laughed with the first real relief she’d felt since the wedding. Gideon was immortal. This changed everything. She could stab him and he would not die. This was the answer to all her worries. Lord Ekim could not accuse her of breaking their bargain if her husband survived the assassination attempt.

  Everyone knew immortals could not die from a mere stab wound. And no one else realized Gideon’s secret.

  She sparred with Gideon for a full hour, and then finally, dripping with sweat, surrendered. Chest slick with perspiration, muscles gleaming, Gideon lowered his sword.

  “Good job. You’re gaining skill with close quarters combat. Now let’s see how you can shoot.”

  Gideon found a target, set it at fifty yards. Alia laughed. “Farther back. Much farther.”

  He grinned and set it back to two hundred yards.

  After he’d set up the target, she shot a quiver full of arrows. Dead center.

  She waited to see his reaction. Did he hope to have a wife who was skilled with the bow and arrow? Or would it wound his pride?

  He retrieved the arrows, set them back into the quiver and then strode up to her, his expression fierce.

  Gideon swept her up in a hug, kissing her deeply.

  “I love having a warrior wife.”

  Her smile died. “But you can’t love me.”

  Pushing back a lock of hair escaping the tight bun, he gazed down at her. “Perhaps I can.”

  Kieran jumped down from the tree and shifted back, clothing himself by magick. “You two had better get a room or a bath. Or both. I’ll clean up and join you later for dinner.”

  Back at the Winter Court castle, they showered off the dust and grime in separate bathrooms. Alia felt too shy to shower with Gideon in the daylight in this strange, new land.

  But when she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a thick white robe, he was standing there waiting for her. Taking her hand, he drew her over to the bed.

  This time when they made love, she felt all
her emotional barriers. Alia tangled with him between the sheets, allowing herself to feel the growing love for her husband.

  Later, lounging in the bed, she stared at the ceiling, wishing she could live here. Oren would never allow it. It would give the Winter King too much power over the Seelie Court.

  Gideon threw back the covers. Naked, he padded over to armoire and removed something from a drawer. He returned to bed, sitting next to her.

  “Your wedding gift, my sweet.”

  He handed her a slim, black velvet box. With a sense of foreboding, Alia opened it. Inside on a bed of white satin was the most delicate necklace she’d ever seen. Wrought from the purest silver, the chain had tiny links and the pendant was a butterfly with outstretched wings of silver lace. The artist had created the butterfly so it looked ready to take wing. Luminous in the sunlight, the pendant sparkled and shimmered like fairy dust. She gave a delighted cry, holding it up to catch a stray beam of sunshine shining through the opened window.

  “I know you dislike gems, and you are fascinated by the butterflies in our garden. I thought this would please you.”

  Never had anyone given her such a thoughtful present.

  Lifting her hair, she allowed him to hook the chain around her neck. Alia touched the butterfly. “Thank you, Gideon. It’s exquisite. I love it.”

  Feeling shy, she smiled and kissed him. “I have a gift for you as well.”

  She reached for her robe to shimmy out of bed. Gideon caught her arm. “Are you cold, my sweet?”

  Alia shook her head, suddenly embarrassed. She didn’t like being naked in the daylight, letting him see her flaws.

  His gaze softened. “I adore your body. Lush and female, and as long as you bare it for my eyes alone, you need not bother to cover yourself.”

  Her lips twitched with playful mischief. “And if another man saw me naked?”

  A hint of feral wildness in his smile. “I’d have to kill him.”

  A strange feeling of pride and possessiveness overcame her. “As I would have to do to any woman seeing you like that.”

  Gideon rested against the pillows, hooking his arms behind his head. “No fear on that, wife. Though we are considered deviant in this kingdom, we can be quite exclusive in paired relationships.”