Moria grew to womanhood in the realm of Myr, wise in the art of women and utterly innocent of the ways of men. Her delicate beauty belied her inner strength...yet she wondered, trembling. For tonight she passed through the circle of stones into the world of men.

Wulfsun was every mesmerizing inch a man, hard muscled and tawny maned. No Viking was more feared, for Wulfsun fought without mercy and expected none. Until he captured a maiden as beautiful as moonlit shadows, and was enslaved for all time. He would have her willing or not at all, though his blood coursed hot with wanting her. And though Moira wore a golden collar of thralldom, her desire for the mighty warrior was the greater bondage. In the long northern night, they surrendered at last to their sweet destiny. But Wulfsun would go forth once more, to die.. or claim forever the free, enchanting heart of his own.