The Mating Season
Werewolves of Montana, Book 6
In the centuries since he became immortal, Tristan, the Silver Wizard, has awaited the return of his long lost love. Nikita was his life and his heart, and when he died as mortal fighting for the freedom of Lupines and dragons, it was with her name on his lips. Now he has found her again, and Tristan is determined to claim her and fulfill his legacy – by impregnating her with his child. He will take her to his heavenly home in Tir Na-nog to show her the passion they once shared in another life. Before they can reach there, he must protect Nikita from his enemies, and he will fight with all his power to keep her safe from all harm.
The handsome, sensual wizard who saved her life from a lethal virus and swept her off her feet is no mere werewolf like herself. He is the Silver Wizard – the ruler of all werewolves, with the power to turn them into dust. Possessive and protective, he wants to recapture the love they had 900 years ago – a love Nikita cannot recall. All she knows are dreams of his passionate lovemaking and a burning desire for his touch. If she doesn’t accompany Tristan to Tir Na-nog, her mortal body will die, for the potion that saved her life will not last. But the journey ahead is filled with danger, and it will take all their courage and everything they shared in the past to endure the darkness that awaits them both…
Excerpt (Warning: This is a romance novel containing explicit sex and language. Not intended for anyone under the age of 18)
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EXCERPT FROM THE MATING SEASON
(Copyright © 2016 by Bonnie Vanak)
None of her fantasies had ever made her feel this alive, nor this free.
A handsome man carried her in his strong arms, his sensual nature swirling about him like the most intoxicating aroma. He planned to remove her clothing, tumble her onto his soft, wide bed and ravish her. Her lover intended to keep her trapped in his bed, giving her such pleasure that she would cry out his name over and over as she clung to him and he made her his own.
And when he was finished, she would be carrying his child, for his true purpose was to impregnate her with his much-desired heir.
"You are mine, Nikita. I will never let you go. I will make love to you until you scream with pleasure and your belly grows big with my child," he whispered.
Nikita Blakemore opened her eyes on a dreamy sigh. And then she looked up to see her lover's smoldering gaze.
He had not whispered those words in her imagination. He had spoken them aloud and this was reality. She was his captive and could not escape.
Her trembling arms hooked around the neck of the powerful Silver Wizard, she closed her eyes again, wishing she were back inside her lonely basement apartment, with only girlish fantasies for company. Too weak and sick to escape his implacable grip, she could only hold on and plan a later escape.
Her captor barely spoke since spiriting her away from the only home she had ever known. He watched her, quiet, assessing, as if she were prey and he was a wolf about to devour her whole.
Nikita had feared him, ever since he'd laid claim to her. He'd done so after her twin Nia won the heart and the hand of Aiden, the Mitchell pack alpha back in Montana.
She was now the property of wizard who had saved her from the parvolupus virus.
With his dark, silver-tipped hair and his burning black eyes, the wizard looked dangerous. Nikita hid her emotions. They would not serve her well. She'd been dying until Tristan, the Silver Wizard, had poured a magick potion down her throat. Then he'd spirited her away. And she had feared the immortal wizard virtually since birth.
All her 25 years of life, she'd been safeguarded and protected to keep Tristan from taking her.
And despite all the safeguards, the secrets and her twin's determination that no one should know of her existence, here she was, captured in his secure embrace.
Her head ached, her throat hurt and weakness gripped her limbs. She could not fight him. Not yet. First, she must regain her strength. How could she fight a wizard who could flick a finger and turn a werewolf into ash with a bolt of energy? An immortal wizard who was the guardian of shapeshifters and ruled over them? They said he could kill with one look, and slay a woman with pleasure with another.
Deep inside, another fear tugged at her, a fear she did not understand. She could not trust this wizard or lose herself in his kisses and caresses because he had done something to her in the past.
Tristan shifted her weight in his arms as they stood outside the entrance of the Sandy Dreams Grand Hotel on a Florida beach. All he had done was blink and they'd materialized here. The method of travel was efficient, but dizzying.
Moonlight dappled the wet pavement and stars glittered overhead like a fistful of diamonds against velvet. In her lonely basement, for fun, she had surfed the internet and seen this hotel, fantasizing about staying here with a handsome lover who longed to become her mate.
And now here she was, with a handsome wizard carrying her as if it were their wedding day. It was a dream hotel, but the man holding her was her worst nightmare.
Tristan glanced down at her, his expression inscrutable. "We're spending the night here. You're too weak. You need rest."
An ancient prophecy foretold that Tristan would take her away and then she would die. Lately, she'd experienced dreams that warned her they'd had a past life together. But in her dreams, the wizard didn't kill her. He made love to her with such passion that it left her limbs weak and her sex pulsing when she awoke. And she wept, not from passion, but from grief because the lover in her dreams always died a painful death.
Prophecy or not, she was still ill. Tristan wasn't going to ravish her tonight. Or, it seemed, kill her. She didn't know which fate she feared more. He held her tightly, as if never wanting to release her.
Tristan nodded and a uniformed man opened the door for them. Niki blinked at the brilliance. The hotel's Renaissance décor had appealed to her as she'd surfed the internet, needing a window on the world. Vaulted ceilings with elegant, gold-leaf trim edged reliefs that she knew were painstakingly hand-carved by artisans. Figures from Greek and Roman mythology pranced through the murals. Niki spotted an impish Cupid aiming his bow downward, as if to shoot at incoming guests.
Cupid, stay your arrow. I have no need of love. I would appreciate a way to get out of this, so if you could loan me your wings and I can fly home, I'd be much obliged.
She tried to avoid looking at her captor.
But she could not avoid the stunned gaze of guests as Tristan carried her through the lobby, over the thick wool carpet with its intricate design, beneath the glow of elegant chandeliers designed to mimic 18th century lighting. He walked with her past the tastefully arranged groups of chairs and sofas, banked by polished wood tables adorned by sprays of white orchids. At last they arrived at the check-in desk. Lamps glowed softly upon the wood counter, giving the impression of an elegant living room in someone's grand private mansion.
The starched uniformed clerk behind the counter looked no less shocked at their appearance than the guests.
It must be the dress.
Gone were the jeans and shirt she'd worn at the ranch when the Silver Wizard abducted her. Instead, with a wave of his hand, Tristan had covered her in a violet and silver velvet gown, with flowing sleeves adorned with silver embroidery, her long blond hair caught up in a silver snood. Niki caught sight of herself in a nearby mirror: it wasn't an average, every-day outfit.
Loneliness gripped her. It was bad enough, being hidden away inside her basement apartment for more than two decades like a fungus, never venturing out unless she'd imitated Nia, her identical twin. And now, on her first appearance in society, she looked like an escapee from a medieval movie set.
The mirror rippled, like a pebble tossed into a still pond. Suddenly she no longer saw the glittering hotel, the lights, and Tristan holding her in his secure, unyielding grip.
She saw a blond woman, dressed in a long amethyst gown with silver thread embroidered on the bodice and sleeves, standing in a room facing a table. No longer did her body bear the ugly dark streaks caused by the parvolupus virus.
A man in black, his long-legged stride filled with purpose, approached her from behind. The dark-haired man caught the woman in his arms and tore her gown off, leaving her nude. He bent the woman face-down upon the table, spread her long legs open. Nikita caught a glimpse of the female's wet, pink sex.
The man loosened his breeches. Nikita saw his thick, long phallus and her own sex pulsed.
Fisting a hand in her long hair, he drove into the woman with a harsh growl, and the woman shrieked, whether from pleasure or pain, Nikita could not tell. Over and over he plunged into the woman as she moaned, then he licked her spine and growled. Seizing the woman's plump hips, he threw back his head and howled, jerking and convulsing as the woman cried out, this time the cry one of undeniable pleasure.
Nikita blinked and the mirror became an ordinary mirror once more. But the vision had been so incongruous with the elegant opulence of the hotel that a deep flush ignited her body. She felt wanton and shamed, as if the Skins, the word Others used to describe humans, had caught her viewing a porno flick.
Sensual excitement twined with fear and dread. The man in the mirror had been fierce, nearly driven to a mating fever, the blood frenzy of Lupine males denied the touch of their mates for too long. More brutal than a mating rite, the fever was all consuming, and could last for days until both lay panting with exhaustion, and the female carried his young in her belly.
She shivered, the sensual excitement fading. Was she destined to become nothing more than a brood mare to suit the wizard's purpose?
The Silver Wizard glanced down at her, his full mouth curved in a knowing smile. She looked away. Was this a vision of the future? What did Tristan plan to do with her?
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