Warrior's Moon
Page 1
“Monroe brings a fresh voice to historical romance.”
—Stef Ann Holm, national bestselling author
Dragon’s Moon
“Monroe draws stunningly evocative images…This engaging tale is utterly captivating from start to finish.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“I have found another author to add to my anxiously awaiting list.”
—All About Romance
“A sexy, romantic romp through the paranormal world in the highlands of Scotland.”
—Night Owl Reviews
“Monroe has a way of transporting you into her world and surrounding you in the lush landscape full of extraordinary characters.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Dragon’s Moon is overflowing with action, adventure and, of course, steamy romance.”
—Rabid Reads
“Can’t wait for the next book.”
—Book Binge
“The quest is riveting while the romance between enemies [is] gripping…However, it is the deep look at shifter subcultures that makes for a powerful thriller.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“An enchanting, sexy read…A fast pace, strong characters and an intriguing story line are sure to please.”
—RT Book Reviews
Moon Burning
“If you like medieval historicals and paranormals, then you can’t go wrong with this series.”
—The Book Reading Gals
“Should not be missed.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“A sizzling story…Fast-paced and intriguing.”
—Joyfully Reviewed
“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
“Impossible to put down.”
—Rites of Romance
“A passionate and wonderful book. Don’t miss it.”
—Joyfully Reviewed
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
“Lucy Monroe is one of my favorite indulgences.”
—Christine Feehan, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“A Lucy Monroe book is a treat not to be missed.”
—Lora Leigh, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“[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, national bestselling author
“A fresh new voice in romance.”
—Debbie Macomber
“An intense, compelling read from page one to the very end. With her powerful voice and vision, Lucy packs emotion into every scene.”
—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
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
WARRIOR’S MOON
Anthologies
ENTHRALLED
(with Lora Leigh, Alyssa Day and Meljean Brook)
Warrior’s Moon
A CHILDREN OF THE MOON NOVEL
Lucy Monroe
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia | New Zealand | India | South Africa | China
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England For more information about the Penguin Group, visit penguin.com.
WARRIOR’S MOON
A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author
Copyright © 2013 by Lucy Monroe.
Excerpt from Ecstasy Under the Moon by Lucy Monroe copyright © 2013 by Lucy Monroe.
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.
Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group.
BERKLEY SENSATION® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ISBN: 978-1-101-62417-3
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation mass-market paperback edition / July 2013
Cover art by Gregg Gullbronson.
Cover design by George Long.
Interior text design by Laura K. Corless.
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.
For Patty and Curtis, dear friends and family by marriage. Curtis, your music has helped me write hundreds of pages, and Patty, your appreciation for my stories and characters always touches my heart. Much love to you both.
Table of Contents
Praise
Also by Lucy Monroe
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Table of Contents
The Beginning
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
Ecstasy Under the Moon Teaser
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 marred their skin with tattoos of blue ink. The designs were simple: a beast depicted in unadorned outline over their hearts. The leaders were marked with more elaborate bands around their arms. 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 the tribe’s 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 animal-like 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. Some did not, subject to the power of the full moon until participating 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 or 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 formidable race and their cunning 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 what they considered 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. He was of Faol 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 Faol 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, what had been considered the Pictish people was 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 sparse few were trusted with the secrets of their kinsmen. Those that did, 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. Since the wolves had not seen a shifter except their own in generations, however, 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 birds with abilities beyond that of merely changing their shape.
Many could be forgiven for believing tales of their prince nothing more than legend. For who had heard of a man shifting not only into the form of a raven, but that of the mystic dragon from ancient tales as well?
If the dragon were real, then were the conriocht as well? Those whispered about Faol that had defended the race in ancient times, able to shift not only into a wolf, but the fearsome beast: the werewolf.
Chapter 1
To abandon one’s sacred mate is to abandon one’s very soul.
—CHRECHTE SACRED LAW, FROM THE ORAL TRADITIONS
Sinclair Holding, Highlands of Scotland 1150 AD, Reign of Dabíd mac Maíl Choluim, King of Scots
“Mummy, they’re giants!”
It wasn’t her son’s excited shout that sent a shard of pain spiking through Shona’s head, but the sight of soldiers wearing the Sinclair colors approaching at speed on horses every bit as oversized as they were.
And not a one of them was smiling in welcome, either.
The headache had arrived with the large brown wolf, which had paced them for the better part of the morning. Only, the pounding in her head hadn’t left when the beast did.
Terrified the animal would attack, she’d ridden tense in her saddle with a dagger to the ready. It had maintained its distance, however, finally running off just before the noon sun cast its shadow.
Her mind and senses already stretched to the point of exhaustion with what had come before this journey, the appearance of the wolf had pushed Shona that much nearer collapse.
But she would not give up. Her children’s lives and those of two loyal friends depended on Shona maintaining both sanity and composure.
So, she had taken her daughter back onto her horse from where little Marjory had taken turns riding with Shona’s companions, Audrey and her twin brother, Thomas. And then Shona had continued on as if the wolf had not scared her out of her wits.
Shona had hoped her luck would hold, as it had miraculously for nearly two sennights of their mad dash north, but it was not to be.
They’d reached Sinclair land late the night before, managing somehow to both evade anyone her stepson may have sent after them and avoid the inhabitants of the clan territories she and her small band had passed through.
Until now.
She had no trouble understanding how her five-year-old son had mistaken the approaching soldiers for giants. Like some of the men from her former clan, these Highlanders would easily stand a head taller, and half again as wide, as any knight who had sworn allegiance to her dead husband.
Considering the horror she’d run from, Shona could wish that these imposing men were of the clan she’d come north to seek refuge with. They were more than capable of protecting her small band, but she had no friends or family among the Sinclairs.
And they weren’t likely to take kindly to what they would perceive as an Englishwoman trespassing without leave on their land. She could but hope the laird would approve safe passage through his lands, if only to get rid of her and her companions.
She had to make her way to Balmoral Island.
It was the only chance they had at safety, her one hope to preserve her son’s life and her own virtue. Or what was left of it.
There, at least, she had family. Though the relation was somewhat distant and she’d no doubts her arrival would come as something of a shock. She could but pray it was not a wholly unwelcome one.
“They’re not giants, sweeting, merely warriors of the clan that makes these lands their home.” Shona tried to infuse confidence in her tone, while her own mind raced with warnings and worries.
“Really?” Eadan asked, eyes the same gentian blue of his father’s filled with awe.
“These are Highland warriors?” Audrey asked before Shona had the chance to affirm her assertion to her son. “They’re huge.”
“’Tis the way of the Highlands, I suppose.” And among the clans that bordered the Highlands as well, like the one in which she’d grown up.
Audrey gave her twin brother a sideways look. “Perhaps you’ve got more growing to do, but I don’t think you’ll reach their stature, even so.”
Thomas looked chagrined. “You don’t know that.”
Shona couldn’t imagine why they were speculating at all. Thomas was English, just like his sister, children of a lesser baron whose holding bordered her dead husband’s on the west and lay only a few miles from land claimed by Scotland’s king.
Audrey and Thomas no longer had a home to return to—not since their eldest brother had taken over the barony.
Shona’s sleeping daughter stirred in her arms. “Mama, is there giants?”
At three, Marjory was as different as night from day from her five-year-old brother. Petite like Shona, with matching green eyes and red curls, she was quiet-spoken (which was not so much like her mother at all).
Marjory adored the older brother who was big for his age and confident to the point of brashness. So like his father it made Shona’s heart ache, though she’d never let them see it.
“They’re the laird’s guards come to greet us,” she claimed, her voice maintaining a shocking steadiness despite the blatant lie.
One look from her two adult companions left her in no doubt they weren’t fooled by her words. But neither of her children were frightened and that was what mattered.
Shona simply had to believe that the Sinclair was a better man than some that had been in her life. His reputation as a fierce but fair leader even as far south as England had led to her choice to travel on his lands instead of taking a more circuitous route to her final destination.