The Mating Ritual: Werewolves of Montana Book 9

by Bonnie Vanak

  She went to the armoire, and from the satchel she’d brought with her, removed a box.

  When Gideon opened it, his eyes widened. He withdrew the marble-sized red crystal ball dangling from a fine silver chain. A dragon guarded the crystal, clasping the gem in two silver claws.

  “I’ve seen these worn by nobles.” He held the crystal to the light. “It’s fine craftsmanship. Thank you, Alia.”

  “It’s no mere decoration.” Alia sat next to him, and cradled the crystal ball. “I infused it with magick to help protect you against the evils at court.”

  Gideon stared at her with a stunned expression. “Why?”

  “My magick is from the Summer King’s royal lineage, so it will protect you a little from him.” Her heart ached. “You are powerful, Gideon, but no match for my father.”

  “Thank you,” he said huskily. “It is the most priceless gift anyone has ever given me.”

  The tenderness on his face undid her, threatened to send fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. Ducking her head, she fastened the chain around his neck.

  The crystal would protect him as long as he wore it. Even from herself when she was forced to take the dagger and try to end his life.

  9

  Two days later, they returned, only this time, Kieran accompanied them.

  Panic congealed in her stomach as Alia went into the manor to freshen up. How was she to attempt an assassination of Gideon with his loyal bodyguard always watching?

  Today was the deadline. With moonrise, Lord Ekim would expect Gideon to be dead, or at least wounded.

  Presently in his jaguar form, Kieran lay on a thick tree limb outside, guarding the manor.

  “Will Kieran stay there all day?” she asked Gideon, who’d returned to the bedroom.

  “He’ll go into the forest in a while to hunt prey and then return at nightfall.”

  She spent the next hour pretending to be absorbed in her needlepoint, but waited for the jaguar shifter to leave. When Kieran finally did, she went into the library to find Gideon.

  “Let’s spar,” she suggested. “I want to practice hand to hand combat with knives.”

  Gideon gave her a questioning look. “At our home? Where someone may see us?”

  “It is our home. Send the servants away and tell them we wish for privacy.” She hoped he would agree.

  He considered. “Very well.”

  Half an hour later, she and Gideon were outside in fighting leathers. His chest was bare. In his hands he held a gleaming silver blade.

  Strapped to her thigh was Lord Ekim’s blade. Alia circled Gideon, holding out the knife he’d handed her.

  If she stabbed Gideon, she’d fulfill her part of the bargain and Alyssa would be freed.

  I have to do this, or Alyssa will die. And thousands more. The thought of watching her little sister wither away to a shell filled her with unbearable heartache.

  They circled each other, Gideon keeping a practiced grip on his dagger. His magnificent chest was bare, making it easier to target him.

  She swiped at him half-heartedly.

  “Alia, you can do better! Where is that fire I saw yesterday?”

  “Where is your crystal ball pendant?”

  “Inside. I have no need of it now.” Gideon danced around her with those lightning reflexes, drawing a line over the leathers protecting her thigh. The garment split open.

  He grinned. “Next I’ll dance with you in the bedroom and slice off your clothing.”

  He acted so carefree, boyish, that she almost forgot her purpose. Alia jabbed forward and then remembering the move he’d taught her, thrust out a leg and hooked it behind his, forcing him to drop.

  Gideon did a graceful roll to the ground, and she sprang upon him, straddling his abdomen.

  “Not fair,” he murmured. “When you are atop me, all I can think about is thrusting deep inside you, not you thrusting that knife into me.”

  Throat dry she stared down at him. “I’d rather get naked with you and toss away the blades.”

  “After practice.” He reached up, stroked her hair.

  Tears closed up her throat. She dropped a kiss on his mouth. Gideon’s lips moved over hers. “We’re supposed to be sparring,” he murmured against her mouth. “You must know how to kill another Fae.”

  A sob caught in her throat. She set down the dagger he’d given her. “I cannot hurt you!”

  “I’m immortal.”

  “I love you,” she whispered, and unsheathed Lord Ekim’s dagger.

  Gideon’s sensual mouth curled into a smile. He caressed her cheek. “I am falling in love with you as well, Alia.”

  His eyes widened as he caught sight of the dagger she’d pulled from the scabbard strapped to her thigh. “What are you…”

  She struck, the blade sinking deep into shoulder. His shoulder, the safest place she could take his blood.

  Gasping, he stared up at her. “What did you do, Alia? That’s not the dagger I gave you. Alia, what did you do?”

  Blood, so much of it gushing from the wound. And then thick lines of lavender spread out from the wound’s edges, curling downward to his naked arm, spreading like wildfire up to his shoulder. Gideon’s eyes bulged out, and he began writhing in agony. Blood bubbled up from his mouth.

  Sobbing, she yanked the dagger out, but it was too late. Poison coated Ekim’s blade.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She knew then that Ekim had not trusted her to do the job, and he’d ensured that Gideon would die a gruesome, painful death. The dagger clattered to the ground, splattering red. Climbing off him, she ran inside and grabbed a towel. Alia tried to stem the flow of blood, but soon the towel was soaked.

  Her husband writhed and groaned as the lavender lines spread on his skin.

  Alia cried out, over and over. “Help him!”

  At her scream, Kieran came bounding out of the forest wearing only trousers, as if he’d shifted in a hurry and not bothered to fully dress. “What the hell did you do to him?” The shifter ran over to Gideon and cradled him in his arms. “Hellfire and damnation, he’s dying!”

  “He can’t die,” she burst out. “He’s immortal!”

  Kieran picked up the dagger she’d pulled from Gideon’s shoulder, sniffed it and then dropped it on the ground “He most certainly can die, especially with this, since he’s lost his fucking powers. You little witch, he trusted you! You’re his wife!”

  Kieran picked up Gideon and ran into the manor with him, not stopping until reaching the bedroom. He gently laid him down on the bed. The bleeding had slowed, but the horrible streaks continued growing over his exposed skin.

  The jaguar shifter barked out a command. “Ariel, to me, now!”

  Seconds later, pink-winged fairy materialized inside the bedroom. She grew to adult-sized. Alarm and fury tightened her pretty, heart-shaped face.

  “You killed the sire, for he is vulnerable.” Ariel hissed. “He trusted you. You shall pay.”

  Ariel opened her mouth, baring sharp, pointed fangs capable of piercing flesh. But the sight didn’t scare Alia. She cared only about saving Gideon.

  “Can you stop this?” she pleaded.

  “He needs a powerful healer.” Ariel ignored her and looked at Kieran.

  “Then call one!”

  “I know of only one who can stop this.” Ariel fluttered her wings rapidly and suddenly dozens of fairies circled around them. Their whispers sounded like tiny cries.

  Kieran pressed a clean cloth hard against the stab wound. Gideon’s eyes flew open and he gasped, as if in terrible anguish.

  Oh goddess, he was so pale, so very pale.

  “Save him,” she pleaded.

  The jaguar shifter ignored her and turned to Ariel. “Call on the Brehon, the council of wizards.”

  “They are forbidden from aiding him.” Ariel hovered near Gideon. “Drust, the Coldfire Wizard, can aid him. But he is a new wizard and his powers are not strong enough. Nikita and Ciara have the powers of their mates, and
they are not forbidden to aid Gideon.”

  “I’ll patrol the manor outside, make certain no one else comes in here.” Kieran left the bedroom.

  Ariel vanished. A minute later, a brilliant flash filled the room. Two women stood at the foot of the bed, both clad in long, dark gowns of velvet. One look at Gideon and they gasped, and went to his side. The golden-haired woman laid a hand on his forehead and the shorter, dark-haired woman put her hands on Gideon’s abdomen.

  They glanced at each other. “He’s fading fast.”

  The gold-haired one trembled. “But perhaps if we combine our powers.”

  “Yes,” said the other one.

  Gideon gasped. “No. D-don’t r-risk it. D-danu forbids s-haring powers.”

  “Only among the Brehon,” the gold-haired woman said. “Not us women.”

  The women linked hands. An ethereal glow ringed them, pure white light pulsing softly. Then each laid their other free hand on Gideon.

  Gideon screamed, and his body jerked as the white light infused him.

  Then he collapsed. Alia bit her lip, not daring to hope.

  A minute later, the horrible lavender streaks on his face were gone and so was the stab wound. He was completely healed.

  Alia wiped tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn’t understand, and it mattered not. Gideon was alive, and well again.

  “Thank you,” she told the women. Alia placed a gentle hand on his chest, relishing the steady beat of his heart. “Welcome back to the world, my love,” she whispered.

  His eyes flew open. So unearthly and beautiful. He was male perfection. Her husband.

  Gideon glanced upward, rubbing his shoulder where the knife had penetrated. Fairies flittered and flew around him, singing happily.

  His gaze shot over to the women. A brief smile touched his full mouth. “You came. Nikita, Ciara, I knew there was a reason why I invited you into my home in Tir na-Nog. Thank you for saving me.”

  “Gideon, anything we can do for you, we will, since our husbands cannot.” The blonde squeezed his hands.

  “We must return, before the goddess finds what we have done and forbids this particular loophole anymore.” The dark-haired one’s eyes twinkled.

  “I’ll escort you both back,” Ariel said, her brow furrowed. “I wish to know more about this loophole, should the sire require it again.”

  “No Ariel, stay here. I have need of you,” Gideon ordered.

  “Of course, sire,” Ariel responded.

  The women both glanced at Alia, and then exchanged looks with each other, before vanishing.

  Without words, Gideon flung back the covers. He shrugged into a dark gray shirt.

  He beckoned to Ariel. “Stay here, keep my wife locked up and under guard.”

  “Gideon,” Alia whispered. “Oh Gideon, I’m so sorry.”

  He gave Alia one long look, filled with fury and grief, then left the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

  Gideon retrieved the dagger Alia used to stab him. He walked until reaching the gurgling stream near the manor. Squatting down, he set down the dagger, then cupped the cool, refreshing water and then splashed it over his face. He kept doing it, trying to get a grip on the shocking reality.

  She tried to assassinate me!

  Grief and shock entwined with fury. I love you. And you repay me sharing my heart with you with a blade.

  Gideon picked up the blade and flung at the ground. The ground hissed and bubbled as the poison sank into the earth.

  He directed a stream of pure energy at it, and the dagger glowed white hot, then burned until nothing remained, not even ash.

  Grief cut through the sheer joy of his powers returning. The anguish of betrayal sliced like the hot blade of the knife. Gideon rubbed his shoulder again, hating how vulnerable and weak he remained.

  He’d almost died.

  Immortals could be killed, even the Brehon. But it was nearly impossible. Gideon was an ancient wizard. Only pure evil could destroy him, and only when he was this powerless.

  Gideon looked down at his exposed wrists, remembering the torture he’d suffered in his mortal life, and his eventual death before he’d become the Crimson Wizard.

  A low growl echoed through the forest. Standing, he whirled, and saw Kieran loping out from between the thick trees. The jaguar shifted back to Skin form and clothed himself by magick. Grief shadowed his gaze.

  “You’re well and whole.”

  “Well but not whole,” Gideon said dryly. “My blushing bride tried to kill me.”

  His friend frowned. “She looks as you as if you are her world, Gideon. It makes no sense. If she truly wanted you dead, she would have done it while you slept.”

  True enough. He knew Alia must have a good reason. He thought fast. “The marriage contract stipulates Byrne has the right to declare war on Oren if I am killed or Alia spills my blood.”

  “There would be chaos if that happened,” Kieran pointed out.

  “Yes. Chaos where someone could seize power and use it to their advantage. It’s not Oren who set her up, but another who wishes to gain something.”

  With the wisdom of age, he pushed back his emotions.

  “Well, Kieran, you worried that ennui would overtake my ancient self. At least now you can see that my marriage will keep me on my toes.”

  As Gideon’s mouth quirked in a smile, the jaguar shifter looked troubled. “I wish I could laugh, but seeing you like that, my heart nearly stopped. What do you wish of me, sire?”

  “Keep patrolling the grounds.” He glanced at the dagger that had his blood on it and his fury rose again. Gideon directed a slim, but potent beam of white light at the dagger and it turned into ash. “If anyone approaches, warn them off. Tell them the lord of the manor is ill and no visitors are permitted.”

  Gideon headed back into the manor.

  In the bedroom, Ariel sat on the bed, glaring at Alia, whom she’d tied to the bedpost using the velvet ropes Gideon used in his love play with his bride. Her fairies buzzed about the room, their wings fanning the air.

  On the dresser was the ceremonial gold dagger Oren had given him. He picked it up, played with it.

  Alia sat on the floor, her expression filled with misery. She did not look up.

  “Ariel, leave us and take your fairies.”

  “But…”

  “Now.”

  When the fairies departed, he untied Alia and motioned to a chair. “Sit down.”

  Still not raising her head, she sat. He perched a lean hip on the bed. With the dagger, Gideon traced a line on the covers, drawing a sacred rune.

  Give me strength, Danu. I wish not to harm her, only seek the truth.

  “Why?” he asked.

  Alia kept her gaze downcast. “I had no wish to harm you, Gideon.”

  Finally, she used his name. But as a means to gain sympathy? He had no magick to guide him, to discern if she played him. Only wisdom and patience.

  And the burgeoning love he fought even now.

  “Why?” he repeated.

  Finally she raised her gaze, but did not look at him. Gideon startled at the tears swimming in her eyes.

  “I was forced. You are immortal. I did not know the blade was poisoned.”

  “Who forced you?”

  Lips firm, spilling no secrets. His mute bride.

  “Who is holding your leash, Alia?”

  “No one!”

  “Are you a spy working with your father? Do you know my true purpose here?”

  Did you mean it when you said you loved me? Am I a fool for hoping you did, for I had felt the same?

  “You never told me the real reason you wanted this marriage, Gideon. Why did you marry me?”

  “Alia.” Gideon drew another rune on the coverlet. “I cannot read you and it frustrates the hell out of me.”

  “Then it seems we are in the same position, my lord. Neither of us can trust the other. You have the power. End my life if that is what you wish, but know this…” Her voice dro
pped to a bare whisper. “I did not want to love you. I could not help falling in love with you. These days since our marriage have been the happiest of my life. Thank you for showing me how it could have been…to finally find someone who cherished me. I should have known it could never last. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you.”

  Stricken by the sheer anguish in her voice, he studied his wife. “Tell me why you did this.”

  Her voice dropped to a bare whisper. “To free my people. No one aids the women of the Seelie world.”

  “What of your own magick?” Gideon frowned. “Use your powers.”

  “I have none.”

  Shock slammed into him. “Impossible. Fae women always had power in both kingdoms. The Crimson Wizard would know if such magick vanished.”

  “Unless they gave it away, as I did with mine when I gave it to you.”

  Something tightened inside him. “The crystal globes the nobles wear…they contain the magick.”

  She nodded. “Two years ago, Oren’s youngest wife was direly ill with a female disease. The king pleaded with all the women in the kingdom to heal Willow.”

  Voice cracking, she paused to blink back tears. “Everyone loved her. She was sweet and gentle. Especially to my mother, who balanced on the brink of an emotional breakdown when she could bear no more children. Willow was like a big sister to me. She treated everyone with respect and kindness. Most of all, my father adored and loved her. She made him…everything a king should be to his people.”

  Gideon nodded, remembering the small, delicate Fae who had been strong willed enough to hold an entire kingdom together. She was the reason why he’d seldom paid attention to the Summer Kingdom.

  “When Willow fell ill, I was crushed. I knew if we lost her, Oren might be lost to madness in his grief. I thought pouring most of our female magick into small crystal balls and laying them on queen’s body would heal her. But we acted too late. She died.”

  “And Oren was lost to madness and he gave the crystal balls to those he favored. He disguised this act through his glamour.”

  Alia’s mouth trembled. “He blamed the women for her death, for not taking action sooner. That was when he began turning against us, doing everything to humiliate us and strip us of our freedom.”