Dragon's Moon Read online

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  “Lucy Monroe captures the very heart of the genre.”

  —Debbie Macomber, # 1 New York Times bestselling author

  Moon Burning

  “A sizzling story…Fast-paced and intriguing.”

  —Joyfully Reviewed

  “I really adore this series and Moon Burning doesn’t disappoint…Ms. Monroe is an incredible author.”

  —TwoLips Reviews

  Moon Craving

  “[A] sexy, stay-up-all-night read.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “A book that will grab you right from the beginning.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “Ms. Monroe captivates the readers with her spine-tingling explosive action and highly intense, sensual love story.”

  —Fallen Angel Reviews

  Moon Awakening

  “Simply awesome…Stunningly sexy and emotionally riveting…Easily one of the best paranormals I’ve ever read!”

  —Joyfully Reviewed

  “A sensual, humorous story with intriguing and entrancing characters…Outstanding…I’m looking forward to future stories.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  PRAISE FOR LUCY MONROE AND HER NOVELS

  “[A] wicked and wonderful temptation…Give yourself a treat and read this book. Lucy Monroe will capture your heart.”

  —Susan Wiggs, New York Times bestselling author

  “Lucy Monroe’s romances sizzle!”

  —JoAnn Ross, New York Times bestselling author

  “If you enjoy Linda Howard, Diana Palmer and Elizabeth Lowell, then I think you’d really love Lucy’s work.”

  —Lori Foster, New York Times bestselling author

  “Monroe brings a fresh voice to historical romance.”

  —Stef Ann Holm, USA Today bestselling author

  “Lucy Monroe is an awesome talent.”

  —The Best Reviews

  “A fresh new voice in romance.”

  —Debbie Macomber

  “Romance as only Lucy Monroe does it…Joy, passion and heartfelt emotions.”

  —The Road to Romance

  “A perfect 10!”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “An intense, compelling read from page one to the very end. With her powerful voice and vision, Lucy packs emotion into every scene…[A] sizzling story with tangible sexual tension.”

  —Jane Porter, bestselling author

  “Lucy has written a wonderful full-blooded hero and a beautiful, warm heroine.”

  —Maggie Cox, USA Today bestselling author

  “A charming tale…The delightful characters jump off the page!”

  —Theresa Scott, bestselling author

  /body>

  Berkley Sensation titles by Lucy Monroe

  TOUCH ME

  TEMPT ME

  TAKE ME

  Children of the Moon Novels

  MOON AWAKENING

  MOON CRAVING

  MOON BURNING

  DRAGON’S MOON

  Dragon’s Moon

  A CHILDREN OF THE MOON NOVEL

  Lucy Monroe

  BERKLEY SENSATION, NEW YORK

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) • Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England • Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) • Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) • Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India • Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) • Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  DRAGON’S MOON

  A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / September 2012

  Copyright © 2012 by Lucy Monroe.

  Excerpt from Warrior’s Moon by Lucy Monroe copyright © 2012 by Lucy Monroe.

  Excerpt from Ecstasy Under the Moon by Lucy Monroe © 2012 by Lucy Monroe.

  Cover art by Gregg Gulbronson.

  Cover design by George Long.

  Interior text design by Laura K. Corless.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN: 978-1-101-58146-9

  BERKLEY SENSATION®

  Berkley Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY SENSATION® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  ALWAYS LEARNING

  PEARSON

  For my mom, my greatest fan and supporter while she lived, missed more than I’ll ever be able to put into words now that she’s gone—and still one of my greatest inspirations to write. I love you, Mom…but you knew that and know it still.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Glossary of Terms

  Warrior’s Moon

  THE BEGINNING

  Millennia ago God created a race of people so fierce even their women were feared in battle. These people were warlike in every way, refusing to submit to the rule of any but their own…no matter how large the forces sent to subdue them. Their enemies said they fought like animals. Their vanquished foe said nothing, for they were dead.

  They were considered a primitive and barbaric people because they marr
ed their skin with tattoos of blue ink. The designs were simple at first, a single beast depicted in unadorned outline over their hearts. The leaders were marked with bands around their arms with symbols that told of their strength and prowess in battle. Mates were marked to show their bond.

  And still, their enemies were never able to discover the meanings of any of the blue-tinted tattoos.

  Some surmised they were symbols of their warlike nature and in that they would be partially right. For the beasts represented a part of themselves these fierce and independent people kept secret at the pain of death. It was a secret they had kept for the centuries of their existence while most migrated across the European landscape to settle in the inhospitable north of Scotland.

  Their Roman enemies called them Picts, a name accepted by the other peoples of their land and lands south…they called themselves the Chrechte.

  Their animallike affinity for fighting and conquest came from a part of their nature their fully human counterparts did not enjoy. For these fierce people were shape-changers.

  The bluish tattoos on their skin were markings given as a right of passage when they made their first shift. Some men had control of that change. For others, the full moon controlled their change until they participated in the sacred act of sex. The females of all the races both experienced their first shift into animal form and gained control thereafter with the coming of their first menses.

  Some shifted into wolves, others big cats of prey and yet others into the larger birds—the eagle, hawk and raven.

  The one thing all Chrechte shared in common was that they did not reproduce as quickly or prolifically as their fully human brothers and sisters. Although they were a fearsome race and their cunning was enhanced by an understanding of nature most humans could not possess, they were not foolhardy and were not ruled by their animal natures.

  One warrior could kill a hundred of his foe, but should she or he die before having offspring, the death would lead to an inevitable shrinking of the race. Some Pictish clans and those recognized by other names in other parts of the world had already died out rather than submit to the inferior but multitudinous humans around them.

  The Faol of Scotland’s Highlands were too smart to face the end of their race rather than blend. These wolf shifters saw the way of the future. In the ninth century AD, Keneth MacAlpin ascended to the Scottish throne. Of Faol Chrechte descent through his mother, nevertheless, his human nature had dominated.

  He was not capable of “the change,” but that did not stop him from laying claim to the Pictish throne (as it was called then) as well. In order to guarantee his kingship, he betrayed his Chrechte brethren at a dinner, killing all of the remaining royals of their people—and forever entrenched a distrust of humans by their Chrechte counterparts.

  Despite this distrust but bitterly aware of the cost of MacAlpin’s betrayal, the Faol of the Chrechte realized that they could die out fighting an ever-increasing and encroaching race of humanity, or they could join the Celtic clans.

  They joined.

  As far as the rest of the world knew, though much existed to attest to their former existence, what had been considered the Pictish people were no more.

  Because it was not in their nature to be ruled by any but their own, within two generations the Celtic clans that had assimilated the Chrechte were ruled by shape-changing clan chiefs who shared their natures with wolves. Though most of the fully human among them did not know it, a rare few were trusted with the secrets of their kinsmen. Those that did know were aware that to betray the code of silence meant certain and immediate death.

  Stories of other shifter races, the Éan and Paindeal, were told around the campfire, or to the little ones before bed. However, since the wolves had not seen a shifter except their own in generations, they began to believe the other races only a myth.

  But myths did not take to the sky on black wings glinting an iridescent blue under the sun. Myths did not live as ghosts in the forest, but breathing air just as any other man or animal. The Éan were no myth; they were ravens with abilities beyond that of merely changing their shape.

  And they trusted the Faol of the Chrechte less than the wolves ever trusted humans. But just as the Faol before them, the time had come for the Éan to learn to deal with their mistrust and join the human clans.

  Their future as a race depended on it.

  Prologue

  Today I have seen the Dragon.

  —CONFUCIUS

  Donegal Holding, Highlands of Scotland

  1142 AD, Reign of Dabíd mac Maíl Choluim, King of Scots

  “I had another dream about the wolves’ sacred stone.” Ciara had waited until their mother had eaten her porridge and returned to her tiny bedroom to once again stare at the wall as if it held the very meaning of life to share this bit of information with her brother.

  His head snapped up and his hands stilled in their sharpening of his broadsword. Wolf’s eyes the same deep green as her own focused on Ciara, silently demanding she continue.

  It used to be a game. Or at least she’d been convinced it was. Before. Before Da’s death and Mum’s decline.

  Now, Ciara knew that for whatever reason, her brother believed her dreams the salvation of their people.

  Galen said the old stories were true, that the wolves once had a magic stone used in the coming of age ceremony to make them stronger. To even turn some into conriocht…werewolves—not merely a person who could shift into a wolf, if that gift were not amazing enough for her people. No, the old stories claimed that some would shift into conriocht, half man–half wolf and larger than either. Giants that could not be bested in battle, even by other wolves.

  Certainly not by the Éan.

  She didn’t know if she believed it. And if she did, if she wanted to help such a thing come about. But Ciara loved her brother and spending the day searching for the stone with clues from her dream was yet a joy.

  Despite how Galen had changed these last two years.

  “The Faolchú Chridhe.” He whispered the ancient name given to the stone by their people in stories older than the wolves’ history with the clans in a voice laced with awe.

  The wolf’s heart…how could they have lost it as a people, if indeed it did exist?

  “What did you dream?” he demanded, his emerald eyes glowing with the shine of a zealot.

  Fear she did not understand skittered down her spine, making her hands shake as she put away their morning dishes. For one thing she never doubted was that her brother loved her.

  “It was like the others,” Ciara forced from between suddenly dry lips, her throat tight with that inexplicable fear. “I saw a stone that could have been an emerald, but for the fact it was as big as a laird’s fist.” Surely no emerald of that size existed anywhere in the world. “’Twas on a dark stone altar in a cavern that glowed with a pale green light like I’ve never seen before.”

  “The glowing, that’s new.”

  It wasn’t, but she’d thought it too fanciful to mention before. Galen’s recent press for more and more information led her to admit to it now though.

  “Where was the cavern?” He asked it every time, as if by doing so would make her know.

  It never did. Though she tried to tell him all she could remember that might help. “I felt as if I was deep in the earth.”

  “You felt?” he asked with doubt that bothered her, though she never said so.

  “Yes.”

  “Could you see the entrance to the cavern?”

  “No, I felt as if it was behind me, but I could not turn away from the Faolchú Chridhe in my dream.”

  “So no proof you were deep in the earth?”

  “No,” she had to admit.

  “’Tis more likely in the hills. Birds would not bury our stone deep in the earth. ’Tis not in their nature.”

  Galen’s belief the Éan had stolen the Faolchú Chridhe had been birthed two winters past, after Da’s death and her brother started spending more t
ime with Wirp. Their da had never had a good word to say about the other Chrechte the old stories claimed had once existed, either.

  But Wirp was worse; he’d acted as if the Faol were better than everyone and male wolves the most superior of all. The old man had made her that uncomfortable. No one was happier than Ciara that Wirp had fallen afoul of their new laird, Barr. Though she was careful not to let her brother know it.

  “It felt like deep in the earth,” she repeated stubbornly.

  “I told you under the ground is not the Éan’s playground.”

  “And if it was not the bird shifters that stole the wolves’ stone?”

  “It was.”

  “You are so certain, but all you have are old men’s stories to prove it.”

  “And your dreams.”

  “My dreams only say the Faolchú Chridhe exists, not that anyone stole it from us. Besides, they could be no more than night fancies.”

  “Nay. They are prophecy and we must pay heed.”

  Then why not heed that the cavern was underground? She did not ask because she did not want to argue with her brother. He might decide not to go looking for the stone. She saw little enough of him as it was now; she would not give up this day.

  Galen did want to search for the stone, but he insisted on taking another warrior with them, saying three sets of wolf senses were better than two.

  Ciara did not agree. She did not like this warrior any better than she had liked Wirp. Worse, she worried her brother would give her to Luag in marriage.

  Her menses had started early. Though she was but twelve summers. He would wait at least two more before pressing her to wed, but then she was done for. The fear that thought caused was fully realized, making her sick to her stomach, even as she tried to hide her revulsion.

  It would do no good. Luag was with them now and would not be going anywhere until they exhausted themselves searching or by some miracle found the Faolchú Chridhe this day.