The Mating Ritual: Werewolves of Montana Book 9 by Bonnie Vanak

Author:Bonnie Vanak [Vanak, Bonnie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-06-10T18:30:00+00:00

An hour later, Alia felt her stomach knot as she and her new husband entered the lavish throne room. Only a handful the highest ranking nobles were present before King Oren. She reminded herself to stay on her toes in this court and never let down her guard.

Certainly not in front of her new husband.

There was a ruthlessness about him, a tight control that screamed sexual skills in bed. Gideon could caress a woman’s nape and then snap a neck in the next heartbeat. It had more to do with his own personal magick than simply being Unseelie.

The dark and terrible power he radiated came from another source, not mere royalty of the Winter Court. Gideon’s magick pulsed like a heartbeat, a barely sheathed sword.

As they drew closer, and then were bid by a page to wait, Alia was startled to see her father looking…old.

True, the king was quite advanced in years, but he trembled and his hand shook as he raised it to sip from the goblet offered by a page. She glanced at her husband, and Gideon’s mouth flattened and his gaze sharpened as he studied her father.

So, he’d noticed as well.

Almost subconsciously, as if seeking reassurance, she slipped her hand into Gideon’s. He looked startled for a moment, then pleased. He gave a little nod. Alia took a deep breath and they approached the high dais.

As she curtseyed, Gideon gave a small, informal bow. Her breath hitched. Such rudeness would catch her father’s attention. He demanded full honor and all Fae in his court must bow from the waist, not merely incline their head.

Would the king demand punishment for her new husband? But as she furtively watched Oren’s reaction, she realized the king had barely noticed. His attention was focused on the goblet as the uniformed page sprinkled something into the drink.

“More,” the king rasped.

Hand shaking, the page opened the packet and poured more of the substance. Oren reached for it with greedy hands. He gulped down the contents, smacked his lips. Then he leaned back with a sigh and closed his eyes, gripping the armrests of his ornate, hand carved wood throne. It was as if they were not even there.

No murmurs amongst the nobles or the court. Alia had not spent much time here, and she suspected they were accustomed to this bizarre behavior.

Gideon narrowed his eyes. She was used to waiting on the king, but her husband was a prince and held his own status.

“King Oren,” her husband said in a strong, deep voice.

The king opened his eyes. “What?”

Gasps amongst the court, except for a few nobles, who sniggered. They were quickly hushed when Gideon turned, sweeping them with a contemptuous look.

“Your Majesty, are you well?” Gideon asked in a louder voice.

Her father cleared his throat. His hands no longer trembled and he no longer held onto the throne as if for support. “Of course I am, impertinent pup,” he snapped, his expression filled with anger and his usual impatience.

Gideon inclined his head again. “My apologies, majesty.

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