Turned: A Werewolf Love Story: The Regency Shifter Series, #1

By K.M. Carroll

A loveless marriage. A werewolf curse.

In the rainy land of Grayton, Bernard and Charlotte Preston lead separate lives. An arranged marriage has left them with plenty of money and a cold relationship. She craves social esteem--while she wishes for the love her marriage has never contained.

Bernard is an alchemist who is desperately seeking a cure for the werewolf curse. Yet he, too, is plagued by loneliness and a wistful admiration for his distant wife.

When the werewolves attack Lyedyn City the night of the Spring Ball, Bernard and Charlotte together fall under the curse. Retaining only their sanity, they flee the wolf hunters and hide deep in the forest.

Now, hungry and afraid, the estranged couple work together to survive ... and even as their love blossoms, evil forces work to ensure that they never leave the woods.

This is a sweet romance with a low heat level.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K.M. Carroll
• Release date: Feb 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781533768858

Book preview

Prologue: The Beast

THE WEREWOLF'S STARE sent Bernard fumbling for a weapon he did not carry.

Thunder rumbled overhead and echoed off the thirty-foot stone wall. It stretched for miles to the north and south, cutting the land of Grayton off from its neighbors, but protecting them from the monsters outside.

A pen of felled tree trunks was built against the wall, and it contained a single werewolf. It snarled at them all, but it stared at Bernard with particular loathing. The chains on its limbs did not reassure him.

Bernard cleared his throat. Archmage, why are we here?

Archmage Allard had summoned the Mage Guild to witness his magic demonstration. He was a tall gray-bearded mage, but moved with the energy of a man half his age. The other adepts clustered outside the wooden enclosure, and somehow Bernard was at the front. He'd never been so aware of his five-foot height and lack of muscle.

Allard opened a gate and entered the pen. The wolf lunged at him, struck the end of its chains and grunted. Allard pointed his staff at the beast and green light glowed at its tip. The wolf shuddered and sank to its haunches.

See? Allard beamed. It's completely under my control.

The mages stared at Allard and his wolf, and exchanged wide-eyed glances. Bernard shook his head. If he neglected to question the plan's sanity, no one would. It's amazing, Allard. And yet, how long do you expect to control it? It's fighting you.

The werewolf trembled and whined. Saliva dribbled from its lower jaw.

Allard shot Bernard a fierce look from under black eyebrows not yet gone gray. No matter how much they fight, they can't reverse their nature. My spells control them through their own pack instincts. They can't resist the Alpha Staff.

Bernard turned to Kryn, the potion master. What do you think, sir?

Kryn was a dark-haired, dark-skinned man of Southern descent, with a build more becoming a wrestler than a potion master. We have no choice. The goblins draw closer every day. I say we present the werewolves to King Grayton.

The other mages nodded assent.

Bernard bit his tongue, but warning screamed in his heart.

Allard pointed his staff at the ground. The werewolf lay on its belly, never taking its eyes off the humans. Excellent! Once the king approves, I'll construct an army of obedient wolves. The goblins will fall like wheat before a scythe.

Bernard wished he'd not eaten that last mince pie at lunch. Fighting monsters with monsters—what did that make the humans controlling the beasts? The land of Grayton might be saved ... but at what cost to its humanity?

He hurried away from the meeting, another sort of dread settling over him. In a fortnight he'd be married to Lady Charlotte Brighton. Most likely, he'd only ever see the werewolves again in the newspapers.

Chapter 1. The Marriage

BERNARD RESISTED THE urge to loosen his collar. He and Lady Charlotte sat together on a sofa, a polite distance between them. Her hair and perfume should be intoxicating to him, since they were courting. Instead, he fought nausea. The pain of his twisting stomach made this more punishing than the rack.

Charlotte’s fine clothes and jewelry were befitting the Brighton family name. And when she came into her inheritance, luxurious Halfmoon Manor would become hers...and her husband's. The spacious grounds and pleasing view far outclassed Bernard’s Preston house. Any man would enjoy living here.

But what of the stranger he was marrying? He glanced at his aunt, who pretended to read in a chair across the room. She had reared him since his parents had fallen to a fever when he was six. Now his aunt sought to marry him off and see him beget an heir as quickly as possible.

It was a pity this was only the second time he'd laid eyes on Charlotte Brighton. She was taller than he, and her carefully arranged golden curls made her seem like a queen or a goddess, untouchable by mortal men.

Charlotte shot him a haughty smile, chin uplifted. Tell me of yourself, Mr. Preston. What are your pursuits?

He scrambled for something to say. I enjoy a bit of gardening. And I'm a fair shot with a fowling-piece. But I'm sure a lady has far more refined tastes.

At their first meeting she had talked about herself while he had sat in terrified silence. Certainly it was her favorite topic. Why yes, she said, smiling in a cold way that reminded him of polished silver knives. I spend my time among people of society. The Lyedyn Duchesses invited me to join their exclusive embroidery group. It's lovely to work among such accomplished women.

Her tone mocked him.

His collar grew tighter with each of her words. Certainly, my lady. You shall have to educate me in such things. I confess I have kept to myself these last few years. Why did she make him so nervous?

Charlotte arched a perfect eyebrow. I had heard you spent much time in the company of the Mage Guild. Are you a magic worker?

Despite her condescension, he sensed real interest behind the question. Ah, no. He ran a finger along the inside of his collar. I have been studying alchemy and I grow many of the necessary herbs for basic potions and remedies. But it is a solitary pursuit, sad to say.

Alchemy. Charlotte's fingers drummed in her lap. Why dabble in such things if you have no magic?

Because it's as close as I shall ever get, my lady. He must not grow angry, not on a courting visit. Perhaps it was merely the blasted collar. I have misgivings about Allard's werewolves, and I am seeking knowledge to combat his arts.

She smiled a white, perfect smile. The werewolves are preferable to goblins overrunning the city. Everyone knows this.

"Yes, my lady. But a curse is a slippery snake that tends