Shades of Moonlight

by Stephanie Julian

  Shades of Moonlight

  Stephanie Julian

  Book six in the Lucani Lovers series.

  Wolf shifter Race Aragon knows Mara Marrucini is meant to be his, in bed and out. And he’s not about to let anyone or anything get in his way of protecting her and her baby. She’d been the prisoner of a madman and has the emotional scars to prove it. Now that she’s free, he’s going to make damn sure she gets to live her life—with him at her side.

  Mara adores Race. He’s the first man to make her feel like a woman. To make her feel protected. His touch ignites her desire but she fears for his safety. Her presence in his life puts him in the crosshairs.

  But with her son’s life on the line, Mara trusts no one but Race to keep them both safe. And to care for her heart—always.

  A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Shades of Moonlight

  Stephanie Julian

  Dedication

  To the readers who’ve followed along on this journey, thank you. XOXO

  Glossary

  Arus: magical power inherent in the Fata and Enu, races of Etruscan descent

  Boschetta: Etruscan coven, traditionally comprised of thirteen streghe

  Candela: Etruscan sprite, tiny magical beings with wings and a certain glow about them

  Decurio: legion rank of commander

  Eteri (pl. eteri): Etruscan for foreigner, used to describe regular humans without magic

  Enu: humans of magical Etruscan descent

  Fata: elemental beings of magical Etruscan descent

  Fauni: Etruscan elemental spirit of the earth

  Folletta (pl. folletti): Etruscan female fairy

  Linchetto (pl. linchetti): Etruscan night elf

  Malandante: descended from the Etruscans but born with a bent toward evil, with a taste for power and wealth

  Praenuntio: Goddess Gift of foresight

  Praepositus: an officer rank in the lucani army

  Praetorian: elite guard of the lucani king

  Pugio: a Roman dagger

  Quercioli: the offspring of a folletta and a linchetto, always female

  Salbinelli: Etruscan satyr

  Sicari (pl: sicarii): assassin

  Silvani: one of the three original Etruscan Fata; always female, protectors of fields and forests

  Speculator: spy

  Strega (pl. streghe): Etruscan witch

  Versipellis (pl. versipelli): literally “skin shifter”—shapeshifters including Etruscan Lucani (wolves), Norse Berkserkir (bears) and French loup garou (wolves)

  Chapter One

  There he was again, the huge gray wolf prowling around the shadows outside Mara Maruccini’s tiny home.

  Well, it wasn’t actually her home.

  Cole Luporeale, the lucani king, graciously allowed her to stay here, close to the very little family she had left. The five-room building sat on the outskirts of this small community of versipelli. Skin shifters. In this case, Etruscan wolves, members of the magical race of Etruscans who continued to survive in the modern world.

  And she knew that wolf better than any of the others.

  Race.

  Just the fact that he was out there made her feel safer than at any other time in her life. Which wasn’t really hard to do, considering…

  A tap on her shoulder drew her attention from the window to the woman standing behind her.

  Her aunt, Grace. Well, her aunt only if you considered that Mara’s father’s brother—she refused to call that bastard Uncle Ettore—was the father of Grace’s son and daughter.

  A tenuous connection, at best, but Grace considered Mara family and what Grace believed came true.

  Grace smiled now, though Mara saw the strain in it and, reluctantly, turned her back on the window to focus on what Grace wanted to tell her.

  Mara hadn’t been able to understand all of it by reading Grace’s lips, a necessity because Mara was still under a nasty spell that had taken away her hearing and speech.

  That bastard Ettore. So glad he was dead.

  She shook her head and held up her hands, letting Grace know she hadn’t been able to understand her.

  So Grace lifted her hands and signed slowly. “The streghe want to be certain you understand. They may not be able to break the spell and you could be permanently deaf and mute.”

  Her aunt’s sign language skills had improved greatly in the last six months since Mara had given birth to Arin, her beautiful baby boy. She’d do anything for him, even attempt this risky spell-breaking. She needed to protect him and she couldn’t if she were deaf and mute. Not completely.

  Mara nodded and signed back, “Yes. I’m positive.”

  Grace sighed and forced another smile, though she wasn’t able to make it the least bit encouraging. Grace had become the closest thing to a mother Mara had ever had, even considering that Mara had two living parents—who’d given her up to Ettore when she was fifteen to be a breeder for the Malandante.

  No, trust didn’t come easy for her. She trusted only one person implicitly. Her cousin Amalia. Only sixteen but already wise beyond her years, Lia, as everyone had begun to call her here, had never lied to her.

  She looked to Lia now, sitting in a corner of the room, away from everyone. Lia’s gaze locked on to hers and she nodded, just once.

  Lia believed this would work. They’d discussed it last night as Mara rocked Arin to sleep and Lia avoided her mother. They both still felt like outcasts in this little community, even though none of the lucani had outright shunned them. In fact, most had accepted them and that stunned her. Grace and her mate Kaisie’s unconditional love made her want to weep.

  And then there was Race…

  Pushing thoughts of the man out of her head, she looked back at Grace, who couldn’t hide her fear. For her. Mara still had a tough time figuring out how to react. She’d never had anyone fuss and fawn over her like Grace had in the past few months. As if she were trying to make up for the previous twenty years of neglect by Mara’s parents.

  Mara soaked up Grace’s kindness like a sponge. On the other hand, Lia was having a hard time trusting anyone.

  Mara had to trust that this would work. She had to. “I’m ready,” she signed. “Let’s get this over with.”

  When Grace nodded and turned to speak to the Etruscan witches who were going to attempt to break the spell, Mara looked out the window again.

  Was he still—

  Yes, there he was, sitting beneath a low-hanging willow. Staring at the house.

  If I ask, will he come in and hold my hand?

  She wanted that so badly her chest ached.

  Race was the one person, in addition to her small family, she’d become used to seeing, who she expected to see every day.

  And the one person she knew she shouldn’t come to rely on.

  Ettore had been right. She was weak.

  Another tap on her shoulder and she turned but this time it wasn’t Grace.

  Catene Rossini Ferrante was only a year younger than Mara but that was where the similarities ended. Cat had long, copper hair and bright-blue eyes, the polar opposite of Mara’s short dark hair and dark-brown eyes.

  “Would you like me to ask him to come in?” Cat asked.

  Mara’s eyes widened in shock as she had no trouble reading Cat’s lips. How had—

  “I’m sorry.” Cat’s smile held a hint of regret. “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that since I… Well, I know he wants to be in here with you and I thought maybe the feeling was mutual.”

  Mara knew the rest of Cat’s unfinished sentence was “since I took the power of the former Etruscan Goddess of the Moon”. That act had knocked the lucani off their feet. Some of them were still trying to
find their bearings.

  Cat appeared to be adjusting to her new life. At least on the outside. But Mara knew how you could be a seething mass of fury on the inside and present a calm front.

  Obviously she hadn’t been hiding her emotions well enough.

  Mara glanced over Cat’s shoulder to the five women, including Grace and Cat’s mom Margie huddled around the dining table. They all appeared to be talking at the same time.

  Lia continued to sit in the corner, her mouth set in a perpetual scowl.

  Making sure no one could see her hands, Mara signed, “Do you think he’ll come?”

  Cat’s smile naturalized, became softer. “Yes. I think he will.”

  Wouldn’t that be nice to believe? A man who would do something for her just because she asked.

  Then she sighed. Silently of course. “I wish…” Her hands stilled. “Why would he?”

  Cat’s smile disappeared. “Why don’t you let me ask him? Every now and then we all need someone big and strong to lean on and Race definitely fills that requirement.”

  Yes, he certainly did. He stood inches over six feet and had to weigh at least two-twenty. He was built like the men Ettore had employed to kill whoever crossed him. And Race looked even more dangerous.

  When he wasn’t in his pelt, roaming the forests and fields surrounding this community as a huge gray wolf, he dressed in faded jeans, black boots, black t-shirts or black hooded sweatshirts. He shaved his dark-brown hair down until only the slightest fuzz remained. She’d often wanted to rub her hand over it, see if it felt prickly against her skin. Or soft.

  He never smiled but she never felt afraid of him. She only felt safe.

  She needed that now. Needed that big, strong man who had been by her side almost constantly since Kaisie had brought her here.

  Mara looked at Cat and nodded.

  Cat smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

  * * * * *

  Race Aragon had been prowling the grounds outside Mara’s house for hours, watching the streghe arrive, knowing what they were going to attempt.

  He wanted to be in there with her.

  Ridiculous but true. And so not happening.

  With a huff, he sat on his haunches and stared at the little house Mara shared with her son and, more often than not, with her cousin Lia. He was glad the two girls had each other. The deep well of hurt in Mara tempered the bitter anger burning in Lia.

  He understood the anger. The hurt made him want to kill Ettore Marrucini all over again. Slowly and much more painfully.

  Then maybe Mara wouldn’t be as sad. Maybe then she could move on and… What?

  Well, he knew where he wanted her to move to. And it wasn’t away from here.

  Since he’d been a kid and realized pretty early on he wasn’t built for the life his parents had expected of him, Race had sworn never to lie to himself or anyone else.

  He was a soldier. His body was built for it, his brain wired for it, and he made no excuses for it.

  His parents and brother were happy living in their cozy little world of numbers and money outside of Philadelphia, where getting your hands dirty meant something a lot different than Race’s definition.

  Logically, his family understood the need for soldiers. The lucani had been under attack for more than a millennium. They needed protection. His parents had just never expected one of their sons to become a soldier.

  He’d never doubted their love for him but they didn’t understand him. Sometimes he thought they were frightened of him instead of for him.

  He knew he looked scary. The shaved head, the tats, the face only a mother could love.

  But…Mara never seemed afraid of him. He’d seen the anxiety in her eyes around several of the other male lucani who guarded her and her son. But never when she looked at him.

  Her reaction made no sense but Race wanted to beat his chest in victory anyway. What he’d actually won remained a mystery since she couldn’t talk and he couldn’t completely understand sign language.

  He’d tried. He’d picked up a few basic phrases but he wasn’t good enough yet to hold a conversation. And he wasn’t sure what they’d talk about anyway. So the fact that he was sitting outside her house in his pelt overthinking everything was kind of pitiful.

  Okay, not kind of. It was fucking pitiful.

  And, yeah, he’d volunteered.

  He was just about to make another run around the perimeter of the house when Cat stepped out onto the porch.

  His wolf sensed the power the girl now held inside her. The power of the Goddess of the Moon. That power called to his wolf without any effort on her part.

  She wanted him to come to her and he obeyed without thought, loping up to the porch. She didn’t seem worried or scared so he didn’t think Mara was in any danger.

  When he reached the porch and butted his head against the girl’s leg, she reached for him, a smile on her face, and ran her hand along his fur. If he stood on his back legs in this form he’d be taller than she was. Grown men had been known to wet themselves when they saw him coming for their asses.

  “Hello, Race. I need you to shift and come inside. Mara would like you to be with her while the witches attempt to break the spell.”

  If he’d been in his skin, his mouth would’ve hung open in shock. Instead he growled and shook his head, which made Cat’s smile widen.

  “Don’t try that with me, Race. You and I both know you want to so just get the clothes you have stashed on the side of the house and come inside. And don’t worry. Ty is out there. He’ll stand guard.”

  How the hell did she know what he wanted? Had he given his feelings away somehow?

  Well, that was a stupid question. She was a goddess now, even if she hadn’t started out as one. She was the lucani’s very own goddess so of course she had a special affinity to them.

  And how the hell did she know Tivr, God of the Moon, was here? Race didn’t sense—

  A sleek gray wolf trotted out of the forest, stopping at the tree line. Beside him, Cat stiffened but she never lost her smile.

  “Go on, Race. I need to talk to Ty.”

  She sounded as if he’d asked a question. And maybe he had unintentionally or maybe she’d just read his mind. He knew there was tension between the young fledgling goddess and Tivr. Hell, everyone knew there was tension between the two but no one knew what to do about it. That didn’t mean they didn’t notice. And worry.

  But Mara wanted him inside so that was where he needed to be.

  He raced around the side of the building, skidding to a stop, his shift already in process. In the span of a few seconds, he’d traded his pelt for his skin, embracing the few milliseconds of pain that set his teeth on edge before he pulled his jeans up his legs.

  He was still tugging his shirt down to cover his stomach when he reached for the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, he pushed through and into the house.

  And froze when all eight women in the room turned to stare at him.

  Grace and Lia smiled at him, looking so much alike he did a quick double take. Cat’s mom Margie smiled too. The three older streghe gave him a cursory glance then returned to their discussion at the table, completely ignoring him.

  Finally, sitting on the small couch by the window, he found Mara.

  Her body a stiff line of tension, she stared at him through wide, dark eyes, her face pale. She looked terrified.

  He didn’t realize he’d closed the gap between them until he stood in front of her. He clenched his hands at his sides so he didn’t grab her and crush her against him, like a child with a toy. She wasn’t a toy. She was a terrified young woman who looked at him as if he could make some of this a little better.

  So he would. He’d figure the rest out later.

  He knew she could read lips well but he didn’t want their conversation to be overheard. So he raised his hands to chest level and signed, “You okay?”

  Her gaze flashed back to his after watching his hands and she attempted a smile as
she nodded. Then her gaze slipped away as if she were shy. Or didn’t know what to say.

  Well, that made two of them.

  Okay, so maybe he’d just go stand in the corner with Lia and—

  Mara grabbed his right hand, her gaze once more glued to his. She had the most beautiful eyes. Dark, soulful. He had the feeling she saw so much more than anyone gave her credit for.

  As if she’d read his mind, she tugged on his hand and drew him closer until he took the hint and sat next to her. When his ass hit the cushion, she released him and he had to clench his fist so he didn’t grab for her again.

  Then Margie turned to face them. “We’re ready.”

  This time when Mara reached for him, she didn’t let go.

  Race’s hand felt huge and solid around hers and Mara didn’t know why she’d let him go the first time. Her feelings for him didn’t make any sense but then nothing in her life, except Arin, made sense these days.

  She would do anything for her son, even undergo this potentially dangerous ritual. Was determined to take back some of what that bastard Ettore had stolen from her. And with Race by her side, she felt strong enough to do it.

  The streghe were talking again but Mara had learned to look only at Margie. She usually spoke for the group and, for some reason, Mara could read her lips better than anyone other than Lia and Cat.

  “Race, if it’s okay with you, we think Mara should maintain contact with you during the spell work.”

  She felt Race’s surprise in the tightening of his hand on hers. She turned to look at him and found his gaze already on hers.

  “You okay with that?”

  Forcing herself to nod, she let her gaze linger on his lips. He had a beautiful mouth, set in a face she figured most women would consider too harsh, too rough. They’d write him off as a thug. She saw strength. And where other women might see crude, hulking muscle, she saw protection.

  She lifted one hand and signed, “Yes, I’m sure.”

  Turning back to Margie, she saw the other woman nod. “Okay then. Why don’t you two come over here and sit on the floor.” Margie motioned to the area in front of her. “Race, you sit behind Mara with her between your legs. We believe your inherent magic might absorb some of the shock of the spell when it breaks.”