by Bonnie Vanak
But freedom always came with a price, and Tristan’s price was steep. Nikita, to become his mate and bear his child.
He saved your life and did not destroy it as the prophecy foretold. But don’t trust him. There’s something there he’s not sharing, something that you know from the past…
But what?
Her body tightened as she thought of the quiet way he’d stated she was to bear his child, how he’d looked at her with such heat in his gaze, but a fiery coldness as well. As if she served no more than his purpose—a vessel for his pleasure and not a person with her own will.
She unbound her hair, brushed it and secured it back with a butterfly clip she found in the bathroom. When she emerged from the bedroom, Tristan’s gaze traveled from the top of her head to her toes. Shivering with pleasure from the heated intensity of that look, she tried to control her galloping pulse.
But seeing him like this, so handsome in the shorts and the T-shirt that displayed the curve of his biceps, was far better than the horrid vision of him being executed…
Her gaze traveled up and down the length of his legs. He had very nice limbs. Long, trim with muscle and dusted with dark hair. Athletic legs that could probably run for miles, or support him as he lifted a woman against the wall and thrust deep inside her…
Heat suffused her face. Not going there.
“You could have zapped up some nicer underwear for me,” she told him. “Some silk lingerie would have been nice. Peach or emerald green.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Why, when you will not be wearing it for long when we reach my home?”
Niki felt her blush deepen.
He held open the door for her as they left the room. Silence draped between them as they rode down in the elevator. Standing in the opposite corner, Niki smoothed down her shorts, too nervous to speak. He stood there, tall and impervious, this powerful wizard who had been her mate in a past life.
She, who barely even dated in this life.
The elevator pinged softly at the tenth floor and slid open. A couple in shorts and polo shirts entered, saw Tristan. Their eyes widened as the doors slid shut. Catching their scent, Niki realized they were like her. Lupine.
Lupines were ruled by Tristan. The couple suddenly bowed before him and she smelled their anxiety, as sharp as cleaning fluid. Tristan sighed. She wondered if he found this tedious, always having Lupines in awe of him, worried about encountering him because they feared he’d punish them for some minor infraction they didn’t realize they had committed.
A tendril of thought curled around her, and she startled, realizing it came from Tristan. No clear words, but a sudden, resigned loneliness, as if he stood alone atop a tall mountain, and down in the valley below were people who lived, laughed, loved and never wanted to see him.
Feeling a surge of empathy, she stepped closer to Tristan and slid her hand into his. He looked startled, and then pleased.
“Good day,” he told the couple as they straightened.
“Are you here for one of us?” the man asked.
“No.” Tristan gave a gentle smile. “I am here, like you, enjoying the seashore.”
The couple exchanged glances. Then the woman spoke in a shy voice. “May I ask you a question about our future?”
Tristan blinked and his smile widened. “Yes. It will happen.”
The couple beamed at each other.
“Congratulations,” he told them.
The elevator doors slid open. “Thank you,” the woman told him and they walked away, arms around each other, laughing like the young lovers they were.
Niki threw him a questioning look.
“She wanted to know if they would get pregnant on this trip. It is the reason why they are here, to escape from the pressures of their pack and their duties, so she can conceive.”
“And she dared to ask you, as if you are a crystal ball?”
He shrugged those broad shoulders. “Lupines like to ask questions about the future, particularly concerning their families. I am accustomed to it. And what is the harm in telling them the eventuality, when they will spend the week doing what will result in the desired outcome?”
A twinkle sparked his dark gaze. He gripped her hand as they strolled into the lobby, and then walked outside to the pool deck. Niki sighed happily. The sun burned brightly in the azure sky and a cooling breeze blew off the turquoise ocean waters.
Tall palm trees and colorful fuchsia flowers ringed the Olympic-sized pool. A few sunbathers lounged in deck chairs by the pool. Tristan walked past them, his gaze whipping back and forth. Tension radiated from him, changing his scent from ocean brine and delicious orange to bitter almonds and sharp steel, laced with a scent her wolf instantly recognized.
The scent of a male alert for trouble, and in protective mode.
She had smelled this before, when her father and brothers were alive. Niki gently disentangled herself from his grip. When he shot her a questioning look, she touched his arm.
“Relax. I’m not going to run away and there are no dangerous monsters lurking here.”
A reluctant smile touched his mouth. “I shall try, for your sake.”
When they finally reached the sandy beach, she raced down to the water’s edge. Tristan was at her side in an instant. Niki kicked off the sandals. The tangy smell of briny, fresh air invigorated her senses.
Dangling the sandals by one finger, she ran to meet the water, loving the way the wet sand squished between her toes. She laughed as the slightly cool surf washed over her bare feet. It felt delicious, better than in her imagination, which had conveyed nothing more than the sandpaper roughness of a wolf’s tongue lapping at her feet.
Warmth filled her and she laughed, throwing out her hands. “It tickles!”
Tristan’s mouth curled into a smile, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts.
“Come on,” she called, crooking a finger at him. “Tristan, this is fun! Take off your shoes.”
Kicking off his flip-flops he joined her, then he grinned. The boyishness of it was such a drastic contrast to the mien of the severe, powerful wizard that she melted inside.
He gave a furtive look around. “No Skins nearby. Watch this.”
Tristan made a circular gesture with his index finger and the waves curled around his feet, swirling in playful loops. Niki giggled.
“The waves are doing that because they’re reluctant to touch your big, ugly toes,” she teased.
“I have not big, ugly toes.” Grinning, he pointed a foot at the surf. “I have nice feet, though not as nice as yours.”
He actually did have nice feet. Long, square and tipped with perfect toes.
“Big hands, big feet, big paws,” she told him.
His grin turned wicked. “Big something else too.”
Flushing, she darted away, kicking at the surf. His words made her belly curl with anticipation and she needed space. Everything was moving far too fast.
“Don’t go far.” Worry sharpened his voice.
“Don’t be such an old man,” she called back.
“Old man?” he sputtered.
“You are more than fourteen hundred years old.”
Niki placed her sandals out of reach of the tide, and squatted down by the water’s edge. After all these years she was finally at the beach, and determined to make the most of it. She began to scoop out handfuls of sand, shaping them into walls and turrets.
Tristan joined her, giving her a dubious look. “What is that?”
“A castle, silly.”
Kneeling in the sand, he frowned. “It looks like a lopsided house.”
Niki flung seawater at him and he ducked.
A dim memory tugged at her. Castles. Turrets and opened doorways, and magick, shapeshifting silver dragons who soared into the air, then slept in the courtyard by the gatehouse. Her mind slipped into shadow and she found herself staring at the sand, willing it to take shape…
“Whoa,” Tristan murmured.
; The lopsided structure she’d made from sand had vanished, replaced with a tall, foreboding castle that looked as if a master artisan had crafted it with intricate tools and brushes.
She touched the castle with a shaky finger. “Tristan, you did this?”
“I did nothing.”
Niki stared at the tall castle, with its majestic turrets, moat, bridge, the keep, and the replica of a sleeping dragon lying in the courtyard by the gatehouse.
“I did this?”
“You recreated it. Castle Baldwin. Our home,” he said softly. “You lived there with me.”
A sense of unreality washed over her. “But…I cannot.”
Tristan took her hand, gently stroking her fingers with his thumb. It felt soothing, but inside, she shook badly. What was happening to her that she could imagine a castle and conjure it out of thin air?
“I need to tell you, Nikita. In order to claim you as my bride and save your life from the virus, I obtained permission from the goddess Danu to make a potion. The potion you ingested contained droplets of my blood which contains my magick. It also contained a droplet of blood of the three other members of the Brehon. Part of our magick now resides inside you.”
As she stared at him, he added, “Not a significant portion, but enough to endow you with magick that enables you to conjure more than mere clothing out of thin air, as you do when you shift back from your wolf form.”
She felt as if her world suddenly tilted on its axis. “If this is so, why are you so worried about me being vulnerable?” There was much she didn’t understand.
“Because you do not know nor understand how to harness that power. It takes time to learn, and you need a safe place for me to teach you.” His voice deepened. “If they knew of your abilities, there are Others who would harm you, and drain your powers to use them for evil.”
Niki glanced up and saw the Lupine couple from the elevator strolling along the shoreline. Suddenly their carefree innocence no longer seemed innocent. They took on a new meaning and threat. Was this what power meant? Always seeing threats everywhere? Freedom suddenly took on a new meaning.
“Is there no place that is safe here, on Earth?”
He shook his head. “I must take you with me to Tir Na-nog. When you enter my home world, you will be safe from all harm,” he said softly. “You will be stronger, and healed from the injuries your earthly body has suffered, and better prepared to carry my child.”
Heart pounding, she stared at his fingers laced through hers. Sex. He talked about when he would bed her, and impregnate her, for that was his ultimate goal. Suddenly faced with this prospect, her childish whim to play and walk in the surf in her bare feet seemed ridiculous.
She had been building castles made from sand, while his goal was to build a legacy, with her as the vessel for carrying his son.
And I will be a prisoner once more, only this time it will be a prisoner to his lust and his desires. Her life would be all about him and what he wanted…when she hadn’t even had an opportunity to figure out what she herself wanted.
Niki shivered, not because of the sudden gust of wind blowing over the ocean, but because of the ruthless intent shadowing his expression. No romance existed between them, only Tristan’s grim purpose. In her dreams, they had shared a life, shared a bed, shared their bodies and had come together in love and passion. But when she awoke she remembered little of that past, a past he was determined to recreate, eventually impregnating her with the child he’d longed to have.
“How can you ask this of me?” Niki yanked her hand away. “You want me to become your lover…”
“My mate,” he corrected.
“Lover, mate, does it matter? You want me to become the mother of your baby, and I haven’t even really lived my life. I’ve spent twenty-five years locked away,” she pointed to the castle turret, “like a princess in a fairy tale, only the fairy tale always had you lurking in the background, the grim reaper my father told me would cause my demise.”
Tristan’s mouth narrowed to a slash. “I have some control here, but there are forces I cannot control. And I will not risk you being smashed by my enemies.”
He snapped his fingers and the tide rushed over, engulfing them and crashing into the castle. The outer walls crumbled beneath the onslaught of the waves.
She saw not a castle crumbling from forces he could not control, but Tristan himself, ruthless and determined, his sexual intent overshadowing her as fiercely as the tidal wave.
Nikita looked at him and his expression shuttered, but she caught a glimpse of his sorrow, as opaque as mist.
“Why?” She tugged at his arm. “Why are you so overprotective?”
“Because I cannot bear for you to die again, as you died while I was in purgatory of the Shadow Lands.”
Niki searched his tightened face. “You saw my death?”
“I felt it. I felt your spirit ebb, and that of our son.” He placed a hand over his heart. “It was like all the energy had left me, Nikita. And I could do nothing to aid you. I died all over again that day you perished,” he said quietly, refusing to meet her gaze.
He turned his head and regarded the horizon. “Lupines live a very long time, but they are still fragile. But there is a way for you to become immortal, as I am.”
She felt boneless with shock. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. It is not a simple matter. It requires a choice.” Tristan turned back to her. “The choice will be yours. I cannot force you into it. But if you choose to become immortal, then nothing would ever harm you again.”
Nikita gripped his arm, her emotions in a lather. She wanted to remember, wanted to erase the deep sorrow radiating from him, but she also needed time and space. “I’m not like the sand castle, Tristan. And Lupines are not fragile as humans. I am wolf, and I have defenses. And despite the fact that I’m naïve in some ways…”
She flicked out a hand and let her claws emerge. Confidence filled her. “I have my own natural defenses. My wolf is smart, and she’s very protective of me. My father, brothers and my twin taught me well.”
His expression remained inscrutable. “A wolf offers flimsy protection against the darker forces I have encountered, Nikita. You are indeed naïve to think that your wolf can handle such evil.”
The insult stung deeply. Though her temper was rising, she retracted her claws. “Nice of you to have faith in my abilities. It’s a wonder you even abducted me, if you think I’m a weak Lupine who can barely hold my own. Maybe you should look elsewhere for a mate and a lover. Try a Lupine dating service. I’ve heard they work wonders, even for sour wizards.”
She stood and walked off.
Tristan suddenly materialized at her side. “I am not a sour wizard, my sweet. I am a man who is worried about protecting my mate. And I did not abduct you.”
Nikita gave him a pointed look. “You carried me off and I had no say in the matter.”
“You were ill! Dying! I saved you!” He dragged in a deep breath, clearly frustrated.
“Then, thank you. If I’m not your prisoner, then let me return back to my home. Nia and Aiden can care for me.”
“Nia and Aiden are not at your home. They are at the Mitchell Ranch, and they are quite preoccupied…with each other.” Tristan softened his voice. “All of your pack now lives with Aiden’s people. The ranch has been closed. Nikita, nothing is the same as when you left.”
Nothing. She was naïve. You can’t go home again. You don’t belong there and the home you had is no longer there. She envisioned the ranch, wind rustling through the dead grasses, the ghosts of her past swirling around like dead leaves…
“There’s no place like home,” she whispered.
Tristan looked distant. “The Wizard of Oz. A very good movie.”
A lump clogged her throat, but she would not surrender to tears. There was no yellow brick road or a way back for her. She would not cry in front of him. “If I no longer have a home there, then I can make a home elsewhere.”
“You can, my sweet. I had hoped…you would make one with me.”
The vulnerability in his voice caught her attention. Niki turned to see a shadow enter his gaze. And then she felt a cold rush of power, so frosty that her stomach squeezed tight. Tristan’s expression hardened. He swore quietly.
A blonde woman of ethereal beauty approached them. Wearing a red bikini that was more dental floss than cloth, she was tall and model-slim, with eyes green as moss and a full, sensual mouth. But she radiated no warmth, and her beauty seemed otherworldly and chilling.
I know her. Nikita shivered.
The blonde stopped before the sand castle they had abandoned.
“How quaint.” The blonde woman looked amused. “Trying to recreate the past, Tristan?”
“Mara,” he said, his deep voice growing distant.
Niki’s blood went cold. Faint recognition filled her. She knew this woman, perhaps from that long-ago life, and felt the coldness radiating from her like the blast of an air conditioner upon her damp skin. A shiver skated down her spine. Power pulsed from the woman in small, sharp blasts. Tristan had the same power, but his power felt like a warm, comforting blanket on a winter’s night.
This woman was frost personified; the bite of ice when one lay shivering in the snow…
“What do you want, Mara? Whatever it is, I will not grant it.” Tristan stepped in front of Niki, as if shielding her from the woman’s view.
But Mara peered around Tristan. “Darling, don’t be such a stuffed shirt wizard. I heard through the Fae grapevine that you found your Nikita and I wanted to say hello.”
Niki did not smile. “You’ve seen me. Good-bye.”
She wanted to be far, far away from this woman. Gooseflesh broke out on her bare arms. Sensing the threat, her wolf growled, fearful of Mara’s intentions.
“My mate is correct. You have seen her. Now leave, lest you face my wrath.” Tristan flung out his arms and stepped forwards.
Power sizzled in the air, and his dark eyes turned a glowing, ethereal blue. Tristan seemed to grow in height, his mouth curled in a vicious snarl, his fangs descending. The raw fury of his magick undulated through the air in invisible ribbons, crackling and snapping.