Lord Dragon's Conquest. Sharon Ashwood
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When archaeologist Keltie Clarke comes across a stunningly strange cave painting during a dig in the Rocky Mountains, she realizes that it’s a find that could make her career. But she doesn’t know what to make of the man who surprises her as she considers her find....
Larkan is surprised, too. He’s a shapeshifter, trained to protect his dragon kin from the outside world. But Keltie is...different. She’s a warrior, just like him. And even though it’s his role to mate with the dragon queen, Larkan’s desire for Keltie provokes a battle between his love and his sovereign lady. What none of them knows is that Keltie is the only one who can see a new future for the dragon tribe.
Lord Dragon’s
Conquest
Sharon Ashwood
Dear Reader,
I love a good dragon.
I love them because they are so extravagant. There’s no tying it up in the backyard—though it might come in handy with the barbecue. Dragons are bold and fiery and creatures of infinite variety. They are the very stuff of high fantasy. What better material for a hero than that? And so it was that Larkan came to life—a shifter from an ancient culture so isolated that time has passed him by.
And who better to unleash him than an archaeologist? Keltie is a junior professor struggling for recognition. When she digs up more than she bargains for, she has to find her inner warrior—and fast. It’s up to her to free the dragons from brutal laws that have bound them in darkness for centuries. At stake is a love that spans worlds and a discovery that will shake the foundations of human belief. Like I said, dragons do nothing in a small way, especially not romance.
Enjoy,
Sharon Ashwood
Dedication
For Clara, who was a dragon in her dreams.
Contents
Prologue
A long time ago, when the world was freshly born, the dragons made a rift in the air. This shimmering wheel in the sky was a doorway between worlds, and so it was that they came to our skies from the Summerland. They loved it here, for there were curious beasts and tall mountain peaks and all the new horizons they could wish for. Best of all, there were men and women—proud, curious and filled with passion—whom many of the dragons came to love as their own kin.
Time passed, humans prospered and the Age of the Dragons drew to a close. One day, the vast majority of Old Ones and their children returned home to the Summerland, their adventures done. But a few remained, including their king, and he had plans. He had grown weary of ruling a people who flew where and when they liked. He was even more bitter because his subjects were loyal to their mates first and to him only second. He decided it was time that they learned to serve at his beck and call.
And so it was that the king of the dragons abandoned the sky and convinced his people to dwell beneath the hard rock of mountains. In time, he thought, dragons would forget that they had once tasted the wind.
The king was correct. Because they had always lived with free and open hearts, the loyal dragons never once suspected treachery.
Chapter One
The cave gaped as if some giant had thumbed a hole into the mountainside. Keltie Clarke shone her flashlight around the dark maw, looking for signs of animal habitation. Merkton University’s archaeological team had already been over the area and had found nothing, but she probed the darkness anyway. The team wouldn’t have checked caves this far from the dig site, and the southern Rockies had no shortage of bears and mountain cats.
The air cooled as she stepped from sun into shadow, creating an instant chill along her arms. It smelled stale and dusty in those black, black depths. Every one of these ancient sites had its own presence—call it an aura, a spirit or a personality. She could feel this one like the press of fingertips against her skin.
These were the moments she lived for, the moments when she might, just might, discover a fragment of the forgotten past. Professor Switzer and his adoring minions were over the hill and far away, wrapping up the excavation for the year. Keltie, junior professor and third in command, wrangled the newbie students, a job Switzer considered well beneath him. Keltie didn’t mind—she liked teaching—but she wasn’t needed for a few hours. This time was hers alone.
She moved steadily forward, her dark braid swinging across her shoulders. The light played against the cave walls, pooling and slithering like a live beast. She followed the curve of the wall only to find the opening widen into a second cavern. After a moment’s hesitation, she went through. This space was larger than the first, but the floor was strewn with large boulders.
Although she smelled none of the telltale odor of animal habitation, that sense of a watching presence grew thick enough to touch. Her heart speeding a little, Keltie moved the flashlight’s beam along the wall. A faint pattern on the rock made her freeze and then blink, not quite sure that her eyes were telling the truth.
The past resident of the cave wasn’t an animal, but a person. Maybe many people. They’d abandoned it long ago, and they’d left their artwork behind.
“I don’t believe it,” she said under her breath, drawing closer oh-so-slowly, as if the images shimmering in the play of light and shadow might suddenly disappear.
Back out in the sunlit meadow, Merkton U’s team was investigating a newly discovered settlement that was probably a few hundred years old. Even at a glance, Keltie could tell these images were older—and very different from anything else documented in these parts. She’d seen the cave paintings of the Chumash people near Santa Barbara, and she’d been to the caves of Lascaux and Chauvet in France, but these were unique.
She released a reverent sigh—half gratitude, half disbelief. The images were painted in washes of red and ochre, at once crude and beautiful. Sweeping lines and spirals showed a confident hand, as if the long-ago artist had been certain of his message. Keltie’s fingers gravitated toward the images as her breath caught on an almost painful surge of awe. Her fingertips hovered close enough to feel the coolness of the rock, but she didn’t dare touch it. Darkness had preserved those stunning hues, they were enormously fragile.
The images were at eye level. Farthest to the left was a series of squiggles, then a strange-looking bird with wings outstretched, a ribbonlike line streaming behind it. The ribbon was interrupted by bumps and more swirls before the image faded to nothing. I