Rosalin's father, a weakened king, makes a deal with the devil when he hires werewolf mercenary, Victor de Sanchez, otherwise known as the Wolf to defeat the villainous MacPierce Clan in the war for domination of the Highlands...

But the Wolf demands as payment for his services eighteen-year-old Rosalin! Suddenly, the girl finds herself betrothed to the brutal half-wolf, half-man warrior, a creature whose lust and passion knows no bounds...

Excerpt:

"Well, look at this little flower," he growled, taking my hand in his. He planted a rough kiss on the back of my hand and I blushed.

"My Lord," I said with a polite curtsey.

"That is my oldest, Rosalin," my father said slowly, uncertainly.

"The others would be younger... Tighter... More likely to squeal..." the Wolf mumbled, looking us over. "But I suspect I can make you squeal and cry as much as your sisters, can't I?"

I blushed till my face was the color of my hair, but I refused to lose my composure.

"I'm certain my Lord would be quite skilled at satisfying my every need," I said, suddenly very proud of my tact. The Wolf threw his head back and laughed. It looked quite similar to how he howled when on all fours.

"A good answer! Tell me, child, that beautiful red hair of yours... Will I find it elsewhere on your body? Is that a rose you've got between your legs or just a brown little crabapple?"

"My Lord, you can't let your daughter be humiliated like this!" roared one of my father's men. "Let us kill this disgusting sorcerer."

"Kill me?" the Wolf cackled. "Can you kill the wind? Can you kill the sea? I'm more than you've ever seen, boy. I've killed more men than you've ever known, and I've eaten their wives and children as well. There are entire armies that lie, forever in the ground, because of me. Mothers invoke my name to scare misbehaving children."

"I know the good Wolf Lord is simply having a bit of fun," I put in quickly and reached out to lay my hand on the Wolf's arm. He raised an eyebrow at my forwardness. "I think we all need a good laugh in these dark times and I, personally, am grateful that our new friend provides us with one."

No one said anything for quite a while. Then, the Wolf's mouth curled into a cruel smile.

"This one should rule your kingdom for you, my dear King. She's the smartest one here. Smarter than you, smarter than me, smarter than all these butcher boys and farmhands combined. I've made my decision. After the battle, after I've delivered the head of Rowan MacPearse to you, I'll take this one for my bride."

My father nodded his head in assent. "As you wish."

Not quite knowing what to do, I performed another curtsey. The Wolf reached out and grabbed me by the hair. I yelped and squeezed my eyes shut. I heard the sound of swords being unsheathed all around.

"I'll be seeing you soon, my precious little one," he growled, and he leaned in, to plant a kiss on my lips.

And oh, gods, what a kiss! His mouth was rough and full of fangs, and I felt as though he were about to rip me apart right then and there as his mouth claimed--yes, claimed is the only word for it--claimed my lips, lips which till that point had never touched another man's. His hot breath filled me and warmed me in the cold night and as he let me go, I felt my cheeks burning.

Warning:
This sexy, historical 6000+ word short story contains deliciously filthy descriptions of sex between a rough werewolf alpha male and a gorgeous young princess. Reader discretion advised!

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