Warkshire Forest,

13 Years Ago

“Oi! Lunatic! Hold on a minute!”

The voice barrelled through the air, breaking through the peaceful silence of the woods and sending a distant bird flapping into the night sky.

“You know perfectly well that’s not my name, you manky twat,” Luna replied as she swung around to face the speaker. Despite her gruff tone, a smile landed on her lips as she spoke. Lunatic. Her brother, Silver, was the only one who ever used that old nickname on her.

He was also the only one who was allowed to get away with it.

Luna clenched her jaw as she waited for him to catch her up. Much as she adored her brother, she was itching to set her Wolf free, and had no patience whatsoever for whatever late-night lecture he was about to throw her way. No doubt he was going to tell her not to wander off into the forest on her own, just as he’d done a million times.

Bossy thing should have known by now that her only likely response to such a command would be to tell him to piss off. In a friendly way, of course. She and Silver had always been close, and since the death of their parents two years earlier, they’d only grown tighter.

Nothing brought two siblings together like the shock of sudden orphanhood.

“Where do you think you’re off to, then?” asked Silver when he’d pulled up in front of her. Casually, he leaned against the trunk of an ash tree, his nineteen-year-old frame tall and confident, a mischievous smile on his lips. The mess of silver hair for which he’d been named sat in a pile atop his head, reflecting the dim moonlight and giving him the look of an elven prince.

It was nearly eleven p.m. by now, but Luna’s keen shifter’s eyes allowed her to study her sibling clearly in the dark. As she looked at him, she was struck by how much he’d altered in the past year. Their parents would have been so pleased and proud, had they lived to see him like this. His body had filled out, broad shoulders topped by a handsome, square-jawed face. He was turning into the sort of man who was admired by young women and envied by young men for his physical prowess and charisma.

The sort of man who might challenge the Pack’s Alpha for supremacy one day.

“Come on, then,” he said again as she sized him up. “Tell me where you think you’re off to.”

“I was just taking my Wolf for a quick run,” she replied, grinning. “I—we, rather—had an urge to get rid of some pent-up energy.”

“Oh, riiight,” said Silver in a mocking tone as he leaned forward. “More like you had an urge to stalk your secret crush again.” His words were playful, but his expression was more accusing than joking, more concerned than amused.

“I believe you meant to say admire him from afar,” Luna grumbled, crossing her arms in defiance.

“You know what Ripper says about the Dragon,” Silver replied. “He’s told us stacks of times that the wanker’s bad news. He’s dangerous.”

Silver always insisted on calling him the Dragon, like there was no humanity in the man whatsoever. But damn it, he was just as human as they were. Just as human as all shifters. “Kirith, you mean,” she retorted. “Kirith Sigurdsson. The Dragon has a name. As for being dangerous, you say that like it’s a bad thing.” Luna tossed her hair haughtily behind her shoulders. “Maybe I like dangerous men.”

“Or maybe you’re too young to be thinking about any men whatsoever.”

Narrowing her eyes, Luna replied, “I’m eighteen. Technically I’m an adult, thank you very much.”

“You’re also a Wolf shifter. He’s a Dragon shifter. He has no interest in you, plus he’s married with children, which is a wee detail you seem keen to overlook, you little home-wrecker.”

“I know all of that. Hence my admiring from a distance. Besides, who’s to say I was going to go anywhere near him tonight?”

Silver snorted. “Because every time you go into the woods you end up at his cabin, that’s why. Anyhow, just be careful. I heard some of the men saying the Dragon’s likely to be in a foul humour tonight.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Silver shrugged up a shoulder. “Dunno. They never tell me anything.”

Luna jumped at the opportunity to steer the subject away from her not-so-secret obsession to Pack politics. Much safer. “Yeah, well, they ought to start including you in their talks soon. You’re old enough to be taken into Ripper’s confidential fold.”

“I’m not so sure.” Silver grabbed one of the tree’s branches above his head and swung lazily from it, bending his legs below him. “Ripper’s never warmed to me. I don’t imagine that he’ll start now, just because I’ve technically aged sufficiently to be considered a grown-up.”

“Ripper’s a twat-faced turd-monster,” Luna snarled, “and a shite Alpha.”

Immediately Silver released the branch, landing hard on his feet, and looked around nervously. “Don’t talk like that,” he said. “If he hears you…”

“Oh, what? He’ll reprimand me severely?”

“I don’t know what he’ll do. But surely you haven’t forgotten what he did to Denn.”

Several months earlier, their Alpha had punished a Pack member for attempted desertion by dragging him back to his cabin and burning the soles of his feet until they bled. Not only had Denn’s chances of escape disappeared, his Wolf had suffered by painfully losing the pads of his hind paws. It had taken months to heal enough that he could walk again, let alone run.

“The idiot Alpha won’t hurt me,” Luna said, twirling a strand of hair around her index finger. She knew that such girly behaviour drove her brother mad, but it was good fun to watch him wince. “He thinks I’m special.”

As soon as the words had come out, she knew she’d lied to herself.

Special?

No.

No one in the Warkshire Pack was special.

She turned her right hand over and stared down at her palm, her eyes picking up the mark on its heel. A small triangular tattoo stared back at her.

The symbol of their Pack. Permanent proof scrawled in ink that she was nothing special after all.

Each shifter in their group received such a mark before their third birthday. Luna and Silver had always assumed that it was commonplace among Wolf shifters to be marked in a similar way; a sort of territorial badge. It was only when Luna had hit her teenage years that she’d learned from a member of a neighbouring Pack that not all Wolves were deliberately scarred with the possessive mark of a psychotic Alpha.

Now, more than ever, the tattoo looked to her like the brand of some rancher who wanted to keep track of his herd of cattle. It was nothing more than a permanent symbol of possession, of submission. Ripper had long since made sure that the Wolves of Warkshire Forest would never be anything other than indentured servants.

Reason number one that she had to escape the Pack with Silver one day, if they could ever find the means to do so. Some day, when he was a little bigger, a little stronger…

“Anyhow, be careful,” he said, apparently failing to pick up on her moment of inner turmoil. “Stay away from that beastly Dragon.”

A low growl emerged from somewhere in Luna’s chest. “Kirith.”

“Kirith, then. Whatever. If you put a name on the devil, he’s still the sodding devil. The fact is, he’s a BHD.”

“What the hell’s a BHD?”

“A Big, Horrid Dragon. I named him that in my head eons ago.” Silver chuckled, no doubt proud of his rapier wit.

“Pfft,” said Luna, blowing out her lips so they vibrated against one another like a horse’s. “Horrid? You’re mad. How can anyone so phenomenally good-looking possibly be horrid?”

Her brother’s smile quickly flipped upside down. “Just because you think he’s dreamy doesn’t make him good, you know. If he’s angry, there’s no telling what he might do tonight. Don’t forget, Dragons breathe fire, and the forest is rather full of kindling, to say the least.”

Luna waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t give a toss if the Dragon’s got his knickers in a twist. I’m not worried.”

Silver lowered his chin and glared at her.

“Fine, I’ll stick by the river then,” she groaned. “But he’s not a monster.” She was getting properly agitated by now. Silver just didn’t get it, did he? Well, she did. She’d seen the Dragon shifter’s eyes more than once, albeit only from a distance. Still, she’d seen enough to know that he was a good man. Kind, gentle. He wasn’t a beast by any means, and if anything, he was far nicer than their tosser of an Alpha. “Besides, if he is, he’s an incredibly handsome monster with big muscles and a winning smile.”

Silver shot another dubious glance at his slightly younger sister.

“I’ll stay away,” she murmured in a withering tone.

“See that you do, or I’ll tell Ripper on you.” Silver’s lip ticked back up into his signature smile, which always began on the left side, revealing a dimple that had been with him since he was a baby.

Luna stuck out her tongue as she’d done so many times over the years. “No need. I’ll be back soon, I promise,” she said. “I’ll tell you what—come find me if I’m not back in an hour, okay?”

“Fine,” said Silver. “Meanwhile, I’ll go make a voodoo doll in the shape of a Dragon and poke it with sharp sticks.”

“Don’t you dare, you wanker!” she replied as she spun around and jogged in the direction of the forest’s core, shifting into her copper Wolf’s form to sprint away from her brother, away from the Pack.

Her déor was headed deep into her woods for the thousandth time, the cool autumn air streaking through her fur, and she couldn’t have been more content.

As she eased gracefully between the labyrinth of tree trunks that littered the wild woods, she told herself that she hadn’t lied to Silver. Not entirely, at least. She really did want to take a look at the forest, to inhale its wonderful scents. She’d been raised here, learned to shift between these trees. This was her home; the only home she and her brother had ever known.

But she had allowed herself a small white lie about her destination. Even if her sibling hated the idea of it, she was determined to look at the shifter known as Kirith tonight, to remind herself what a real man looked like. She’d spent her whole life surrounded by the Pack’s males, and while they were nice enough—except for Ripper, who was a right pisser—they’d never excited her to the point of romantic interest. She was an adult now, as she’d said. She had needs, desires.

She also happened to have a crush on a man who was both inaccessible and unapproachable. Wasn’t that how most eighteen-year-old women spent their time?

Kirith wasn’t really hers, of course, and he would never be. But she liked to imagine that he was.

He was enormous; bigger than Silver, bigger, even, than Ripper. With piercing green eyes, light brown hair, and arms that looked like they could lift a freight train off its track. She’d often wondered what his Dragon must look like. Was he as beautiful as the man himself, or as terrifying as Ripper and the others claimed?

Kirith and his family lived in a cabin at the centre of the forest, so isolated from society that Luna couldn’t help but think that they’d hidden themselves there on purpose. Perhaps he was concealing something; a dark past, or worse. But sod it. If he was, she didn’t care. All she knew was that when she’d stumbled upon the house one day and watched him from afar, something had happened to her. She’d kept her eyes on him for an hour as the hulking man chopped wood in nothing but a loose-fitting pair of jeans that hung low on perfectly carved hips.

It was when she’d first inhaled his deeply masculine scent that the young woman had realized for the first time what it was to be attracted to a man.

At eighteen, she was too young, perhaps, to be with such a man, even if he had been single. But it didn’t stop her from dreaming about him. Somehow, he made all Wolf shifters seem weedy and weak in comparison. A girl—no, a woman—needed something to fantasize about. Pack Wolves were dull, submissive. They abided mindlessly by the rules set by their ruthless Alpha.

Where was the fun in that?

Kirith, on the other hand, was his own man who played entirely by his own set of rules. Not to mention that he was probably a far more noble creature than Ripper would ever be. So whatever his inner Dragon was angry about tonight, he was probably being perfectly reasonable. He looked too rational, too kind, to fly off the handle without provocation.

It didn’t matter anyhow. All that was important was that Luna get a quick look at him tonight, to satisfy her craving, then she’d turn right around and run home. One little glance, that’s all I want, she told herself as she charged forward, her long legs pushing her Wolf through the woods at a rapid sprint. Then I can go home and sleep…and dream.

After a time she realized that she must be getting close to the hidden cottage. She slowed her pace to a walk, savouring her mounting excitement. Searching out Kirith always sent a sea of happy butterflies circling around inside her belly. His hulking form was better than the sight of presents on Christmas morning. No doubt he was much more fun to unwrap, too.

But as she moved closer to the clearing, the normally euphoric flock of butterflies quickly took off for safety, morphing instead into a swarm of agitated wasps.

An odd aroma had met Luna’s Wolf’s nose, stopping her in her tracks and sending a shudder of warning through her body.

It’s all right, she told herself. You’re more excited than usual, that’s all. Must be the hormones.

Did hormones make the air smell like a bonfire?

Smoke clouded the air, and the scent of meat wafted to the Wolf’s nose, sending a strange, horrified shudder down her spine. She told herself to be calm. Kirith’s family must have been preparing some sort of late dinner out of doors. It was the only logical explanation for the smell. So why did the aroma fill her with fear?

He’s grilling, her inner voice insisted. He’s just making a nice, late dinner for his family.

Slowly she pulled forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mr. Perfection himself, to convince herself that all was well. Maybe she’d spot him flipping meat on a fire out back, wearing nothing but an apron, tied at the back. Oh, the thought of it.

But as she neared the clearing, she began to spot flames dancing off the tree trunks ahead. They weren’t from any grill; they were too big, too hot. A strange red glow had begun to colour the very air around her, driving its way high into the treetops.

It was then that Luna noticed that an eerie quiet had stilled the night. No crickets were chirping. No owls hooting. This was no family cookout.

Something was terribly wrong.

Instinct told her to turn and to run. To flee for her life, never to look back. She should escape whatever incident was unfolding ahead, because whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be good.

Of course, she’d never been good at listening to her instincts. It wasn’t mere coincidence that Silver called her Lunatic, after all. She’d always been fearless to the point of stupidity. She should have been a damned cat, not a Wolf. Cats had nine lives. Cats were curious idiots, just like her. Wolves, on the other hand, were cautious. They clung to each other for protection. Wolves didn’t run off on their own into the mouth of danger as she loved to do.

As she was doing right now.

When she’d reached the edge of the clearing, she was confronted by the worst of all possible scenarios. Kirith’s small, pretty home was engulfed in orange flame, barely recognizable as anything other than a wasted skeleton of the house that had stood there only a day earlier.

Littering the grass around the house, a grim reminder of the family that lived there, were children’s toys: dolls, a toy truck, a hobby horse.

Luna’s heart sank as she took it all in.

No, she mumbled. They can’t be dead. My Dragon shifter, my Kirith, he can’t…can he?

Her question was answered when above her, far beyond the tree tops, a great shadow crossed over the moon, drawing her light eyes upwards. Long, black wings beat against the stark white orb as his huge form let out a roar and banked hard to his left, taking aim at the clearing below.

The Dragon, it seemed, was very much alive. As if to prove it, he was hurtling towards her now, shooting downwards like a bullet shot from an invisible gun.

And as much as she wanted to deny it, it looked as if he was aiming for the house. His house.

Why on earth would he attack his own house?

Silver’s warning came to her from the back of her mind as she pulled herself to the ground, flattening herself onto her stomach. Stay away from the Dragon. For a moment she contemplated running into the clearing, trying to signal him somehow, to stop him.

Don’t do it, Lunatic, she told herself. Don’t let him see you. Silver was right—you don’t know what the Dragon’s capable of.

The enormous, powerful form was still shooting down towards the woods, his neck long and tense with a rage that permeated the night air. Luna could see now that his scales were gunmetal blue, reflecting the moonlight so that he looked as though he were made of oil, air, water and stone, all at once.

He was beautiful.

But he was also terrifying.

She watched in horror as he opened his mouth, fangs like longswords gleaming in the moonlight as flame sparked at the back of his throat.

The fire that he unleashed then was so hot that it burned white, engulfing the already burning house in a blinding explosion. A howl rose up in Luna’s Wolf’s throat, but she fought it back. This Dragon can’t be Kirith, she told herself. He wouldn’t do such a thing. He couldn’t. He’s good, I know he is.

As if to answer her unasked question, the monster landed hard behind the house, mere feet from where she lay, and shifted, his back to her. Still in denial, she gasped when he twisted around to stare into the woods for a moment. There was no question anymore. This was her Kirith. Her Dragon had just burned his own home to the ground.

She followed his gaze until off in the distance, on the other side of the clearing, she spotted another Wolf. It was one of the Pack members, a large, young Wolf named Rutger. She had no idea how long he’d been watching the mayhem unfold. No idea if he was thinking the same thing that she was.

“I know you can hear me, Wolf,” Kirith said, his voice a deep, rattling growl that seemed to make the forest vibrate around them. “Go tell your sodding Alpha that I killed them. Tell him that if I ever see him again, I will kill him, too. Tell him no one in these woods tonight is safe from my hellfire. Not now, not ever.”

Luna watched as Rutger turned and fled as fast as his Wolf’s legs would carry him.

She should have done the same, but for some insane reason she stayed there, staring at Kirith, whose back hunched with an unseen, incomprehensible pain. She heard him heave a heavy, heart-wrenching sob, and in spite of everything she’d witnessed, her heart broke for him.

A hard, cruel desire told her to go to him. To shift into her human form, to lay her head on his shoulder and tell him that somehow, everything would be all right.

What the hell was wrong with her? The man had just killed his family; he’d even admitted it. He was a madman, and she somehow thought it would be wise to walk up and try to comfort him?

There was no comforting a man who could do such a thing. Nothing in the world could calm such a beast.

Silver had tried to warn her, of course. He’d tried to protect her from this. Tried to shield her from the truth: that the world was an ugly place. That fantasies were just fabricated, foolish dreams meant to delight, to take one away from reality. Maybe the truth was that Dragons really were nothing more than heartless killing machines.

Maybe Kirith really was a BHD after all.

As the words sank into her mind, Luna finally persuaded her body to take her back to the Wolves’ territory. Rising to her feet, she spun around on all four legs and ran as fast as she could go.

When she came up on the small acreage where the Pack lived in their cabins on the edge of Warkshire Forest, the sound of low voices met her keen ears. She skulked behind a tree, her heart pounding as she listened to the conversation. Poking her head around the trunk, she could see her Alpha, Ripper, listening to the tail end of Rutger’s account. “He’s gone insane,” he was saying. “He said he’ll kill you if he sees you again.”

“Damn it. This isn’t how I wanted things to go,” Ripper said, letting out a frustrated sigh. A strange reaction. What could he mean, how he wanted things to go? But then, the whole night had been strange, and Luna could hardly trust herself to judge anyone’s reaction after her own had been so unnatural.

“Gather the Pack, and we’ll head out,” the Alpha commanded. “We have no time to waste.”

Within the hour, the Warkshire Pack was hiking towards the small village of Bonham, some forty miles to the west. Luna walked next to Silver, who was considerate enough not to ask if she’d seen what had happened. Perhaps he sensed her sadness and confusion.

Whatever the reason, she was grateful.

“Why do you suppose we’re going to Bonham, of all places?” she asked after a time, trying to get her mind off her heartache.

“Ripper knows someone there, apparently. He said there are a few vacant houses about that we can get for cheap rent. I didn’t want to ask too many questions. All I know is he’s trying to get the whole Pack to safety. For once he’s doing the right thing.”

“I suppose,” murmured Luna. She turned to take a final look at their woods. A plume of smoke was rising from between the tall trees at its core, a grim reminder that her beautiful Dragon shifter had turned out to be nothing more than a cold-blooded killer.

One that she would probably never see again.