Outlaw Dragon

by Chloe Peterson

  Outlaw Dragon

  Whiteheart Clan Book 1

  Chloe Peterson

  Copyright © 2018 by Chloe Peterson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  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

  A Word From Chloe

  Enjoyed Outlaw Dragon?

  1

  Rowan stepped out of her car and pulled her black leather jacket on. Her long black hair, which she wore in a braid, got caught between the coat and her t-shirt, and she pulled it out with shaky hands before taking a deep breath.

  For summer in Falhurst, Kentucky, a leather jacket was overkill, but Rowan needed every advantage she could get when it came to portraying strength. She pulled back her shoulders and made her way to the Narrow Oyster. The bar was the social home of the Dragonclaw clan, and she found it odd that a name related to the sea would be the title of the top dragon clan's favorite hangout.

  "Here we go," Rowan whispered to herself, before pushing back the dingy looking door. It was late afternoon, but the large bar was full of Dragonclaw members. Right in the center of the room, at a massive table, sat her father, the leader of the Dragonclaw clan.

  Rowan swallowed thickly. She'd been planning this moment for a year, but now that she was here, a distinct shiver ran up her spine.

  Scared. Rowan was scared, and she hated it.

  Rowan clenched her fists and shut the door behind her. Thankfully, no one had noticed her so far. As far as shifters went, dragons were pretty high on the hierarchy. Their strength in human form, and ability to fly and breathe fire in dragon form, made them formidable enemies. It appeared none of them cared that a perfect stranger may have walked in unannounced.

  A scoff threatened to leave Rowan's throat as she observed the men and women around her. They were criminals. Well, most of them were. And after she found out exactly how the Dragonclaw clan earned their keep, she knew it was time to leave.

  Rowan walked into the bar, careful to dodge tables full of rowdy men and women. Despite it being afternoon, the bar had poor lighting which seemed to encourage everyone's vices. Most of the clan lounged around tables getting drunk, and a few couples hid in corners groping each other within an inch of their lives.

  I can't believe I once viewed this behavior as team spirit, she thought.

  "Hey, it's Rowan," one drunk yelled. A mix of cheers and jeers answered his call. Rowan understood both reactions. Some of them hated that she, a young woman, had risen to the position of third. The others respected her hard work.

  Rowan was in charge of clan security. Every clan in Falhurst had a turf, and from time to time, other clans wanted to infringe on that. Rowan had done a brilliant job of securing the Dragonclaw's interests. But now that she knew what they were, she felt her stomach roil once more.

  Smugglers.

  The Dragonclaw were prized smugglers, moving anything and anyone across any borders for the right price. Their access to the skies meant that no one could stop them.

  Rowan stopped moving to the center of the room when the memory of her best friend Brooke, a fellow Dragonclaw, burst into her room with news of exactly what her sister Sloane did all day, slammed into her like a bag of rocks.

  At twenty-seven, Rowan was a curious mix of inexperience and experience. She'd spent her entire life, living and working in the Dragonclaw territory. That bubble allowed her father to keep things from her, but at the same time, the odd life she lived had made her familiar with death and violence.

  But the news that her family were smugglers and human traffickers was too much for Rowan. It was like the scales fell off her eyes, and she suddenly saw everything for what it was. The businesses she protected in the clan's territory were nothing more than fronts. And her sister Sloane headed up the real business.

  "Are you okay?" Rowan turned swiftly to see her ex, Amber, looking up at her with worry etched on her face.

  Rowan peeled Amber's hand off her arm and stepped back. "I'm fine," she growled.

  Her response was met with whistles and moans. She'd always been proud of the fact that her coming out hadn't been an issue for the clan. Now she knew that her being gay was nothing to a group that championed greed and excess.

  "Trouble in lesbian paradise?" one guy heckled.

  "Shut up, Dan," a commanding voice replied.

  Rowan whipped her head around and locked eyes with her mother. "Shit," she whispered.

  She'd hoped her mother would stay home so that this experience would be a lot more manageable, but now it seemed like she was going to have to announce her departure from the clan in front of her mother.

  Rowan wanted to get the ugly part over with, before going back to her parents' house, to explain things to her mother. She couldn't do it before because she knew her mother needed deniability. Rowan drew a sharp breath, and her nostrils flared. That was yet another reason why she had to leave.

  Over the years, she'd observed her father's cheating ways. Rowan had begged her mother to leave several times, but her mother wouldn't budge. Theirs was an arranged mating. Leaving would bring heat on her family who were still respected Dragonclaw members.

  Rowan's mother's eyebrows shot up in understanding. They had always been close and only got closer once her father chose Sloane as his second. Rowan had been hinting at leaving all year, and it seemed her mother understood that that's what she was about to do.

  To Rowan's surprise, her mother bent her head to her in respect. Warmth spread throughout Rowan's chest, and a surge of adrenaline shot through her veins. She was worried that her mother would see her leaving as something negative that would make her life harder for everyone.

  Rowan's father did have a legendary temper after all. Who knew who he'd take it out on? But her mother supported her. Looking into the gray eyes that matched hers, she saw only compassion and admiration.

  Rowan brushed Amber aside and marched toward her father's table. Amber was a cheater and a real piece of work. She didn't deserve anything from Rowan. She had slept with Rowan's father while they were dating. That was it for Rowan. Now, Amber was just like any other Dragonclaw, and her respect for them as a group had faded.

  "I need to talk to you," Rowan said, planting her feet wide, facing her father head-on.

  "Not now," he said waving a dismissive hand. He turned back to one of his friends and carried on a conversation about soccer. He was obsessed with the game, despite the fact that he'd never kicked a ball in his life.

  Rowan folded her arms. She would not be deterred. Especially by a person she only considered family by blood and nothing else.

  "I said I need to talk to you," Rowan yelled.

  The room fell silent, except for a few babbling fools that were quickly silenced by their friends.

  "What is it, girl?" her father said, his voice laced with irritation. That tone would make the old Rowan cower, but over the last year, she'd made the mental transition from Rowan the Dragonclaw, to Rowan the Whiteheart.

  She'd set up her own clan. Made up of friends and shifters whose hearts and intentions were pure. As clan leader, she needed to learn to stand up to other leaders. Even though she still felt like her knees might buckle under h
er father's dark gaze, she locked her legs in and lifted her chin.

  "I'm leaving. As of today, I am no longer a Dragonclaw."

  Her father rose to his six foot seven and peered down at her, his almost black eyes glowing. "Do you know what that means?"

  "I do. I just came here as a matter of courtesy. I've already moved all my stuff out of your territory."

  Rowan's father looked over her shoulder, as the vein in the center of his forehead popped. He was trying hard to control his anger, but Rowan could see that he was losing that battle quickly.

  "Did you know about this?"

  Rowan didn't even have to turn to know who he was addressing. Her poor mother. She was as strong as could be, but she'd have to deal with his anger and pettiness over the next few days.

  Her mother and father didn't love each other. Theirs was an arrangement meant to consolidate power and purity of bloodlines. After having children, they settled into a life of coexistence, and mutual disdain, as her mother put it.

  The older Rowan got, the more she hated that her mother chose to stay, but she also understood that if it came down to a physical fight, then her mother could hold her own. Rowan had seen her in training. Her father, on the other hand, grew more portly with each passing year.

  Rowan's mother wasn't a victim. Instead, she was her family's protector. Choosing to stay mated to Rowan's father kept her parents and siblings safe from the wrath that a broken mating bond would incur.

  "No," her mother said, her voice flat.

  "I made this decision on my own," Rowan said, her voice rising in passion. "The Dragonclaw have no honor, choosing to work with the bottom of the barrel of the underworld. I will not lend my hand to your cause. So, this is my resignation. I, Rowan Fanan, now denounce the Dragonclaw clan."

  Rowan watched her father blink rapidly as his breathing grew heavier. He finally understood that this wasn't a rash decision and was probably angry that he'd been kept in the dark about all of it.

  It's good to get a taste of your own medicine, Rowan thought.

  She felt no fear, now. Only freedom. Her mother had given her her blessing, and her father wasn't going to do something rash to try to get her to stay or worse, keep her from leaving. If that were the case, he would have been as cool as a cucumber. His anger only came out when he felt powerless.

  Rowan had never thought she had any power. Now, she understood she had boatloads of it, and she was determined to use it for good.

  "I'll only ask this one more time," her father said, his voice low and shaky. "Do you understand what that means? If you leave, you'll be dead to me, and no clan will take you in. You'll be alone and defenseless, and you will never set foot in Dragonclaw territory again."

  Rowan inhaled. "I do understand that, and I accept it. Goodbye, Duncan."

  A few gasps broke out, and Rowan spun on her heels and walked out of the bar. Calling her father by his first name was a punch below the belt, but Rowan needed to make it clear that she was done with the Dragonclaw. That level of disrespect was something no Dragonclaw would use, and she'd just cemented her decisions. There would be no undoing of it now.

  Rowan walked back to her car and jumped into the driver's seat, turning around to face the four women piled in the vehicle.

  "Who’s next?" she asked, with a smile.

  Her best friend, Brooke, laughed from the passenger seat beside her. "You're crazy. You know that?"

  "Any takers?" Rowan asked, feeling a lightness she hadn't felt in months. "It feels amazing, I promise."

  The three other Whiteheart clan members and her closest friends looked at each other with worried faces.

  "Are you okay?" Mara, the motherly one of the group of friends asked.

  Rowan locked eyes with each of her clan members and smiled. "I'm more than okay. And I can't wait for each of you to feel what I'm feeling."

  Giselle, a wolf shifter, clapped her hands. "Whoo. If little Miss serious can feel this happy without smoking or drinking a thing, then sign me up. Let's go to mine next!"

  Rowan grinned and backed the car out of the parking lot. Today, they would each take the dangerous step of leaving their respective clans. She just hoped the Whiteheart clan that would be born on this day would deliver all that it promised.

  Freedom. Protection. And a life free of unnecessary violence and death.

  2

  Eva sighed as she looked over the clothes in her family-owned clothing store one last time. She knew that for every item on the rack, they had at least five more in storage. Unfortunately for them, the product never left the store at a reasonable pace.

  Biting her lip, Eva switched off the main light of the store and stepped out into the chilly night. She took out the store key from her back pocket and locked the place up. Once she finished, she stood with her arms on her hips and looked at the dark store.

  So much of her life had gone into the damn thing, and for the tenth time that month, she was seriously thinking of quitting. Eva shook her head. She could never do that. The store was her family's livelihood.

  All of the Stonelight clan's wolves were ranked on a scale from most important to least important. Some of them had titles, like the clan leader or second. Others didn't but still served essential roles. Eva and her family were at the bottom, and they had no way of getting up. At least not one that she could see.

  At least we have a clan, Eva heard her mother's voice in her head, and she clicked her tongue. Her mother was far too grateful for the Stonelight, and it showed in how she lived. She did everything she could for the sake of the clan, forcing her daughter and husband to help her.

  It wasn't that Eva hated the clan. The Stonelight was better than most. The problem was that there was no opportunity for advancement. She felt like she was living in the seventeenth century.

  Some shifter clans chose to get involved in all kinds of criminal activity. There, it was about earning your place through violence. While Eva would never want in on that kind of life, she appreciated the ability to advance.

  It was a first come first served hierarchy with the Stonelight, and her father's family had joined pretty late, cementing their status. That meant that the part of Stonelight territory they got to work in, was dictated. And so Eva found herself, at twenty-seven years old, shutting down a store on a street with severely low foot traffic.

  "Ugh. Why did I agree to stay late?"

  Eva drew an exasperated breath. She hated how loyal she was. When her mother asked her to stay back that day, Eva went along with it to appease the older woman. The way she'd practically begged Eva to stay, then proceeded to hug her, telling her she was the best daughter in the world, had melted her resolve.

  Eva jammed her hands into her hoodie pockets, then walked down the steps at the front of the store. At least her favorite show would be out on Netflix that night. She would lock herself in her room, and binge all night.

  Most people would think she was a loser for still living with her parents, but that was how things worked in shifter clans. You stayed with your parents until you found a mate.

  "With my weight, that won't happen anytime soon," Eva muttered under her breath.

  She had always loved her curves until an ex had wanted to control her eating. Actually, everything about her life. That experience had left her with serious self-esteem issues.

  Eva walked down the quiet street but didn't get far. She heard footsteps from behind her and turned her head sharply. It was rare for the road to get foot traffic in the evening, but if Eva could make a last minute sale, then it would be worth the wasted hours. She'd also love to see her mother's face when she told her the news.

  But when Eva peered over her shoulder, she didn't see potential customers behind her. No. Two large men dressed in black t-shirts and jeans were headed straight for her. Eva faced them head on, not wanting to have her back to the men and sniffed.

  They were wolves, but they didn't look like Stonelight wolves. Their clan was small. That meant these were wolves f
rom another clan trespassing. Eva had never had to deal with this kind of thing because the shop was on a low traffic part of their territory, but it appeared someone had decided to do a bit of exploring.

  "Eva Martinelli?" one of the wolves asked. He had shaggy brown hair and baby blue eyes.

  "Who's asking?" she responded. Eva dropped her arms as her palms grew sweaty. Why would strangers know her name? Why would they come looking for her? And more importantly, how did they know exactly where to find her?

  "Uh, just answer the question," the first wolf replied. "We don't want trouble."

  "We don't want trouble," the second wolf imitated in a high pitched voice. He was smaller than the first, but something about his energy spoke of danger. Unbridled danger. "Who the fuck cares? She's a female wolf. We need a female wolf."

  The first wolf pinched his lips. "I know that, but we have a specific job to do. We can't just go around grabbing anyone."

  "Fuck this." The second wolf stalked toward Eva and grabbed her arm. "Let's go."

  Eva stomped on his foot with all her strength, and his grip loosened. That gave her the opportunity to take off down the street. Eva huffed as she ran. She might have been a wolf shifter, but she rarely shifted except for when she got the itch to do so. And after her horrible break up six months ago, that was never.

  I'm so out of shape, she thought as she ran. Before she got to the corner street, the first wolf ran around her and blocked her path. Eva turned around ready to take off again and saw the second wolf storming toward her with his fists clenched.

  Eva stepped out onto the street, needing to put some distance between her and the men.

  "Are you Eva Martinelli?" the first wolf asked, his voice oddly calm.