The Mating Ritual: Werewolves of Montana Book 9

by Bonnie Vanak

  Silvia took a step forward, scrubbing at her skirts with blooded hands. “We women had no power, Alia. You know what that does to a Fae? We gave it all away because your father, that bastard, wanted his youngest wife to live. He loved her. And we gave away our damn magick to save that weakling, who died anyway!”

  “You were not forced to give it away. You did so willingly.”

  “Because of you, you stupid bitch! You asked us and we would have done anything for you. It’s your fault we were powerless and abused!”

  Guilt and grief entwined inside her. Alia kept working at the chains, trying to hide the action from Silvia. She must free herself.

  Silvia kept talking, her voice a high-pitched, thin screech as she walked the room, scrubbing her hands. “I became your father’s mistress after Willow died. It was the only way I saw to gain power. But even that wasn’t enough.”

  “I saved you from being raped,” Alia shot out, working the thin chains to break herself free. Almost there…

  Silvia’s laugh echoed through the chamber, shrill and cackling, the very edge of madness. “I wasn’t being raped. I went there willingly. Who else could I find to fuck me who would never tell and risk the king’s wrath? Oren hasn’t been hard since Willow’s death.”

  Silvia kept pacing the room. “Nothing, no potions, not even young virgins, nothing worked for Oren. After Willow died, he became flaccid as warm butter.”

  Rage consumed Alia, cold, dark rage. The chains spilled to the ground. She felt for the knife strapped to her thigh beneath her skirts, the skirts Oren ordered her to wear because they were ladylike.

  And female Fae must always be ladies.

  Not me.

  “You’re going to die, Alia. I will make it as painless as possible because you were my friend once. And then my Dark Lord will destroy Gideon. The Crimson Wizard will be gone forever. And I’ll absorb all your power and give it to my lord.”

  Her Gideon, her love. Not if I can help it.

  “I have no power, Silvia. You are wrong.”

  The Fae laughed. “Stupid, blind Alia. You have more power than you can possibly know. I see it because the darkness has opened my eyes. The Dark Lord instructed me to take your life, and steal all your magick.”

  Silvia’s voice cracked. “And I stole all your clothing. Just because you always had the finest wool dresses, and I wore linen.”

  The laughter turned into an evil cackle. Stunned, she watched her former friend’s face become sunken and gray, her eyes filled with blackness.

  “Time to die, Alia!”

  Hissing, Silvia sprang forward, sharp fangs erupting from her mouth, glistening with lavender poison. Alia thrust out the knife, sinking it into Silvia’s heart.

  Silvia screamed once, then gave a look of shock and collapsed. Alia stared at the blade, now glowing bright red as if forged from magick fire.

  If Silvia was filled with powerful dark magick, the blade should have slowed her friend, not killed her. But she wished for Silvia to die swiftly, painlessly. What magick was this that her wishes came true? She remembered the incident in the neutral territory.

  She did have magick. Power rushed through her, a rush like a heady wind.

  Alia wiped the knife on her dead friend’s dress. “I am not dying today. As for the dresses, keep them. Wool itches.”

  She raced into the outer chamber, the throne room where Oren held court.

  Her father stood on the dais as Gideon wrestled with him for the scepter. A terrible wind swirled around them, grayish swirls glittering with black. And then Oren bellowed out ancient words in Fae.

  “Dark forces, take life and eat the living! Nehilm!”

  Four giants erupted out of the wind, taking shape as four beasts with white fur, claws and red slashes for mouths. At least seven feet tall, they hissed and went for the courtiers.

  Chaos erupted in the throne room. Gideon withdrew his sword as the guards did the same to battle the beasts.

  Courtiers screamed and ran as a Nehilm bellowed and raked over one hapless nobleman, slaughtering the Fae with his claws. Blood sprayed the king’s face.

  Oren laughed and licked droplets off his mouth.

  Sword held out, Gideon faced one Nehilm. He whistled and Ariel and a squadron of fairies materialized. They began swirling around the beasts, distracting them.

  Alia reached Gideon’s side, but he shoved her behind him.

  “Get out of here. If I am killed, the fairies will take you to safety in the Winter Kingdom.”

  The hell with this. She had some kind of incredible power pulsing inside her. She would fight alongside him. Deep within her, came a roaring rage, a grief that she had not been able to fight last time they had faced such evil.

  Alia whipped out her dagger and barely took a step forward when her father saw her, flicked a hand and the blade went sailing out of her grip. The same punishing force knocked her to her knees. Darkness swirled around the king, a hurricane of glittering blackness so thick she could barely see his face.

  Peripheral vision showed Mauricio racing toward her. “Alia!”

  Her fingers curled around the quiver and bow her brother sent sailing through the air with his magick. The bow Mauricio had fashioned for her hands. He’d carved it from rowan wood.

  The quiver slung over her right shoulder, she armed the bow and raced toward the throne. Gideon fought the Nehilm with his sword, his aim true as he slashed one’s throat. Black blood sprayed, sinking into his skin with a hiss. Gideon ignored the injury, kept fighting as Ariel and her fairies dove into the fray, flinging poison darts into the thick hides of the Nehilm.

  Her husband had no wizard’s power. But by the gods, he was fighting as a warrior true.

  Alia paused only for a moment. Thinking of the darkest poison that would kill the undead, she licked the arrow’s tip. It burned red.

  Whatever tremendous power rested inside her, it could kill.

  She shot a Nehilm about to cleave Gideon in half.

  Writhing in agony, the Nehilm bellowed and fell back, clawing at its eye where Alia had shot him. Not hesitating, she armed the bow with another arrow. This time she thought of the tip glowing with pure power, eager to sink into the skin of the enemy.

  Her arrow sang home, directly into the beast’s throat. This time, it did not even scream, but fell dead before her shocked gaze.

  If arrows did this… She dropped the bow and thought of her palm glowing with energy. A bright red fireball appeared on her palm. It did not burn, only filled her with warmth and purpose.

  She flung it, sending it at the head of another Nehilm. The beast’s head exploded, black brain material and blood splattering an elegant tapestry depicting her great-grandfather’s coronation.

  The black wind wreathing her father lessened enough for her to see the maniacal look on his face. Then suddenly his expression changed to a terrified old man. Then back. The evil Oren pointed the scepter at her.

  “Your power is mine, Crimson Wizard,” Oren rasped. “I’ll drain you dry until you are a living husk.”

  “The scepter,” Gideon shouted. “Alia, watch out!”

  As her father laughed and pointed the black diamond at her, she flung out her hands, sending a pure red energy bolt at the swirling wind. The king’s face distorted, as if a mask filled with rage and hatred dropped over it. The mask dropped, showing a terrified ancient, the Fae who once had twirled her around when she was a child—the father who once made her laugh and sing.

  “No,” Oren screamed. “No more! I will not kill my daughter!”

  Grabbing the diamond atop the scepter with both hands, Oren began to glow with grayish light, and then brilliant yellow. Alia struggled through the maelstrom to reach her father, who poured all his good, light magick into the black diamond.

  As she reached the king, he released his hands. For a moment the diamond flared bright, shining white, the true magick of the king. Horror engulfed her.

  Oren was somehow absorbing the dark energy of the
diamond into his body, turning the power of the diamond into pure white magick. As the darkness streamed in black mist into his body, he began to shrivel, his skin burning and turning charred.

  The dark energy was burning him from the inside out.

  “It’s safe now, purged of darkness. Take it Alia,” her father rasped. “Take the power now before the Dark Lord destroys you and the kingdom. I do love you, child.”

  He fell back, a burnt, blackened husk, screaming, his claw-like fingers grasping at nothing. Sobbing, Alia grabbed the diamond as a black shadow began creeping over the gemstone.

  Power shot through her, so much power she screamed from the burning. Gideon leapt over the dead bodies on the throne room floor, dropped and rolled and then grabbed her hand. The burning flared, and suddenly lessened.

  “Alia, hold fast! Merge with me,” Gideon shouted.

  She thought of making love with Gideon, how their spirits seemed to fuse as one. Power ebbed and flowed out of her. Blood seeped from her pores, oh goddess, so much power she could not hold it all. But Gideon was there, absorbing it, taking it from her.

  “Goodbye Summer King,” Gideon told him, and flung out pure red energy at her father.

  Oren exploded into black ash. The swirling wind slowed and stopped.

  Gideon turned, his expression triumphant turning to horror. He caught her in his arms.

  “No, my love,” he whispered. “Stay with me.”

  She struggled to keep conscious. The last sight she saw was Gideon, his face shining with love for her, his eyes glowing bright red, as if he’d regained all his Crimson Wizard powers and the good, light magick lit him up from within.

  And then the world went black and she saw no more.

  12

  Alia, his lovely mate, his wife, his love, was dying.

  The moment the scepter’s power rushed into him, he saw everything. Her pain, her love for him, the desperation and the grief for a sister she would do anything to save. Her grief at a life lost nearly one thousand years ago.

  He saw into her heart, and what lingered. Alia.

  Eleanor reborn. The gentle spirit of Eleanor that had slept until awakening in fierce, courageous Alia.

  Gideon gently cradled her body against his chest. He placed a hand on her heart, and the blood seeping out of her pores vanished, leaving her skin smooth. But she did not open her eyes.

  With a trembling hand, he smoothed back her hair. “Alia, I love you,” he whispered. “Please don’t die.”

  Sounds around him. He ignored them. This place of blood and death was not for his precious Alia. Gideon spied an open door leading to the outside and carried her into a small courtyard. A fountain bubbled there and roses bloomed among the vines climbing the wall.

  He barely glanced up as her brother Mauricio rushed outside. Blood streaked the prince’s face. “Alia,” the heir cried out. He made as if to move toward her.

  A red bolt of energy sailed out of Gideon’s fingers, striking the prince, who flew backward and tumbled to the ground.

  “Don’t touch her,” Gideon warned. He brushed back a lock of hair from her pale, pale face.

  His Crimson Wizard powers had returned. He cared not. Gideon concentrated and tried to pour them into Alia, to heal her, bring her back.

  But her eyes remained closed and she barely breathed.

  Brilliant flashes of light erupted in the courtyard. He felt a rush of power and knew his fellow Brehon—Xavier, Tristan, Drust and Cadeyrn, were with him.

  He cared not.

  “Gideon, my friend, you cannot attack the new Summer King before his coronation,” Tristan said gently.

  He only held Alia tighter. “Go away, Tristan. Leave us alone.”

  Besides him, Xavier and Cadeyrn stood close. “Let her go, Gideon,” Xavier whispered. “I’m so sorry, but you must let her go.”

  “Never.” He kissed her forehead. He was once more the Crimson Wizard. He could carry her across the world if he must, for he once more had the power. All the power, except to restore her life.

  “Gideon,” said Drust, the newest wizard of the Brehon.

  “Quiet,” he snapped. “She needs peace. Let her have peace for once in her damn life.”

  She was so broken and battered. He touched her cheek, sending more tendrils of healing energy into her still form. Bruises vanished, wounds mended.

  But her heart still would not beat fast. It only faded.

  Gideon picked her up and began walking around the courtyard, her long sable hair spilling over his arms. Tears streamed down his cold cheeks. Cold as Alia. The salt water burned, and felt unfamiliar. He had not cried in hundreds of years.

  He cried now, for the love he lost, for the life he cherished, the only woman he’d ever loved. Eleanor reborn to a strong, healthy body in Alia.

  His eyes had finally opened to the truth the moment he’d seen her wield his Crimson Wizard powers. His heart had known, but his mind denied the truth because he did not think he deserved such a gift.

  Danu had taken away his powers and given them to the only woman Gideon had sworn to love.

  “Gideon.” Cadeyrn’s voice was much firmer now. “Let her go.”

  Tristan placed a hand on his arm. “We’ll take good care of her, Gideon. I promise.”

  “She’s so cold,” he whispered. “So cold. I must get her warm again.”

  Home. They needed to be home, in the manor, in the bedroom where they had experienced so much joy. So much tenderness and life she brought into his life, before he’d known she was his long-lost love.

  Gideon blinked and dematerialized to their bedroom. He laid her gently upon the bed.

  The others followed him. And then another brilliant flash of light and a goddess of ethereal beauty emerged from it. Gideon did not bow his head before Danu. For the first time in one thousand years, he ignored her.

  All that mattered was Alia.

  A single tear dripped down his cheek as he finally looked up at the goddess. And then another.

  “I couldn’t save her. I lacked the power,” he confessed. “It’s my fault she died again.”

  “You could not save her with your magick,” Danu agreed. “But you did save her with your heart and your love.”

  His helpless gaze fell to Alia. So pale and still.

  “You gave her your heart, Gideon, and risked your own life for her. It is what bonded you forever to her soul.”

  The goddess rested a hand on Alia’s forehead. “The power transference from the white light Oren transmuted was too overwhelming for a mortal like Alia. But she is not dead. She would have died, had you not taken on the power to lessen its impact. Alia sleeps in a deep coma, and will awaken when her body is able to absorb the magick.”

  He did not dare to hope. One did not hope after one thousand years of heartache and grief. “I can’t go on without her,” he said in a broken voice.

  “You will not be forced to make that choice, my wizard. I will make her body stronger, and able to contain all the power she absorbed.”

  Danu leaned over and breathed upon Alia. White light wreathed his bride, and then with the next breath, Alia inhaled, taking the white light into herself, her body glowing.

  The light faded with the next breath, but her heart beneath his trembling palm beat strong and certain.

  Gideon closed his eyes, barely able to speak for the overwhelming joy flooding him. “Thank you.”

  The goddess nodded. “When I removed your magick as the Crimson Wizard, I had to transfer it. I gave it to Alia. She has held it all this time.”

  Drust blinked. “How could she have the power of one of us? She’s mortal.”

  “There are certain gems that can contain it. The jewels Alia was forced to wear contained the magick, which she tapped into during her most desperate moments. The diamonds can hold tremendous magick, good and evil, while protecting the mortal who holds them. Oren’s diamond scepter held evil, while Alia’s diamonds contained your powers, Gideon.”

 
; Danu turned to Gideon. “You have your Crimson Wizard magick back, Gideon. Not only yours, but the magick Oren transmuted from the Dark Lord into good, white magick. Each time a Fae suffered in the Summer Kingdom, Oren’s diamond scepter grew darker with power.” Danu’s mouth quirked in a slight smile. “You are the most powerful wizard now among the Brehon.”

  “Dude, don’t let it go to your head,” Xavier quipped.

  “You’re still the ugliest among us,” Tristan added.

  Danu gave them both a severe look.

  Cadeyrn did not smile. “You fail to realize what this means.” The eldest wizard of the Brehon, who had seen civilizations rise and fall, swept them all with a troubled look. “The balance is upset. Gideon can destroy us all.”

  He rubbed his temples, struggling to deal with this new reality. Emotions overwhelmed him. Joy at knowing Alia would live. Humility and fear that he had so much power, he could kill his fellow wizards. Such a tremendous responsibility.

  The one with the answers stood before them, quiet, petite, but filled with ageless wisdom and power. Gideon held out his hands.

  “Why me?” he asked the goddess.

  Danu touched the scars on his wrist. “When you became my Crimson Wizard, I asked if you wished to have these removed. You declined. You wanted the marks as a humbling reminder of your mortality, and your mortal heart that had loved your people so much, you were willing to die for them. The marks remain, my wizard.”

  Understanding filled him. “You trust I will not abuse my new powers, but use them to judge and guide the Fae as I have in the past.”

  “Quite.” Danu glanced at the sleeping Alia. “Power you now share with your wife. I made her immortal as you are, Gideon. Together, you will be a formidable new force to fight the darkness encroaching on the world of Others, the evil that threatens the Skin world as well. The Dark Lord is gaining new followers and new footholds. We must gather our forces and strengths to defeat him.”

  Gideon glanced down at Alia. “There is purpose.”

  “There always is.”

  Cadeyrn looked resigned. He was the only remaining wizard left to be punished for sharing power to restore Tristan to life. Sharing power was forbidden among the wizards.