Free The Mating Season: Werewolves of Montana Book 6 by Bonnie Vanak

rugged man, his long black hair tied back, strode into the room.
    Not Tristan, but another. Her heart pounded as she recognized the man.
    Drust, his best friend and betrayer.
    Drust went to the woman holding the wet cloth and pushed her aside. “She cannot be saved. Tristan’s heir will die with her.”
    “No,” the woman said, tears streaming down her face. “It cannot be. Why, Drust? She already lost her mate. She was innocent in all this! You said you wished to make up for Tristan’s death when you gave me that potion to help her baby!”
    Then the pregnant woman on the bed gasped and screamed her last. They pulled the sheet over her face, but first Niki caught a glimpse of the dead woman…
    It was her. She had died, and the child she was to bear, Tristan’s son, had died with her…all because his former best friend had caused her death with a potion that contained poison.
    Gasping, she rolled over, moaning, sensing she had this dream before. No, no . Someone stroked a cool hand over her forehead and the vision faded.
    “Sweet dreams,” a deep voice murmured, and she knew it was Tristan. “Dream of us, my sweet. Only of us.”
    And then the familiar dream she’d experienced before began, as it always did, with her pacing the long, protected walkway behind the battlement of a stone castle…
    She could see the turret close by, with a door she could access if she had to run and seek safety.
    Sounds of war raged in the distance. Nikita’s heart pounded with fear as she gazed beyond the fields to the forest where the fighting raged. The day had dawned cold and wet, and the battle had moved closer to the castle. For weeks he had been at war, fighting to protect the land and those he loved. But the enemy was strong.
    Her love was out there. Would he return?
    He must return, for she would die if he spilled his life’s blood upon the battlefield.
    Tristan. His name was Tristan, the guardian of Castle Baldwin, and lord and protector of shifters.
    So dedicated to his people, not only Lupine, but all shifters, for the Fae had enthralled all shifters, making them into little more than servants. Emer, the Fae king, liked her mate, and had granted him title of the land and the castle.
    But Tristan, and the other Lupines, were forbidden to hunt in the forest unless they asked permission from Emer.
    This is not freedom, Tristan had told her, lying in their bed and stroking her hair after their love play. “If I must war with the Fae, so be it.” He had placed a warm palm upon her bare belly. “For you, and the future of the child you will bear.”
    “I’m not with child,” she’d protested.
    He had smiled. “Not yet. But soon.”
    A shiver went through her at the heated promise in his eyes. Nikita had placed her palm over his. “You made a promise to me on our mating day, Tristan, a promise to me and our future young. ‘I will always put you above all others, and your needs first.’ Can you not appoint someone else to lead the war if it comes to that? Drust has much knowledge of war and strategy. He would make an excellent general.”
    He had gone silent, his gaze distant. “Let us not talk any more of war, my sweet. I am cold and need your arms around me.”
    As always, he’d silenced her worries with his mouth, and made fierce love to her, making her forget all reason.
    That was two months ago, and now the inhabitants of Baldwin Castle, and all shifters, were at war with the Fae. Tristan, her mate and her love, lead the battle cry, despite her concerns.
    Now as she walked the battlement, a cold wind made her shiver, despite the fur lining her gown. Worry needled her, as sharp as the piercing wind, even though Tristan was powerful. He held the looks of a youth, and possessed the age and wisdom of an elder. Once she dared to ask him how old he was and he had laughed.
    “Older than you, my sweet,” he had told her. “Old enough to remember the time when dragons were plentiful as the fish swimming in the sea.