The Wolves of Argonne

By Kastil Eavenshade

Rosabel lives on the edge of the Argonne Forest, a place where werewolves rule and don’t care for humans meddling in their affairs. During the harvest festival, she catches the attention of the alpha, Ulric. Beneath the mask, he makes his intent known with one hungry stare and awakens something dwelling deep within her soul.

She discovers her sexuality and submits to the whims of the virile and powerful shifter. When the arrival of another werewolf challenges Ulric for his prize, Rosabel finds herself between two wanting lovers.

Can Rosabel choose between her dominant suitors, or will the overbearing males learn to share their lady in the crimson cloak?

Be Warned: menage sex (m/f/m), anal sex, public exhibition, bondage

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Publishing
• Release date: Jan 26, 2012
• ISBN: 9781927368435

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Copyright© 2012 Kastil Eavenshade

ISBN: 978-1-927368-43-5

Cover Artist: Jinger Heaston

Editor: Dana Horbach

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

When I decided to take my writing to a more serious level, I never imagined I’d achieve the level of success I have to this day. I have many people to thank for that.

First, I’d like to thank my famiglia. From my parents to my sisters, they’ve cheered me on with every written word I’ve belted out. Grazie mille!

Second, without a doubt, has to be my friends from The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pens, with a deep nod at Joce for using her keen eye for me.

Lastly, and with all my heart, I give my deepest love and thanks to my husband. Through the madness of me disappearing for hours for writing and edits, he encouraged me in his own special way. You will always be my first and only love.

THE WOLVES OF ARGONNE

Naughty Fairy Tales

Kastil Eavenshade

Copyright © 2012

Chapter One

The needle poked through the red woolen fabric, and Rosabel drew out the satin thread. Her thumb smoothed over the half-complete trailing vines along the hem before plunging the needle back in for another stitch. The design noted her life on the edge of the bustling village of Bois de’Lune. Named for the lush full moon that cradled between the two mountainous peaks, the town celebrated the end of summer with the courting of all young women of age under the fiery orange glow of the harvest moon.

Compared to the drab clothing she wore on a regular basis, her cloak shined like the setting sun.

To show her purity and status, Rosabel worked diligently for weeks on her crimson cloak and beaded mask. Each detail showed each trial and journey she took to be prepared for womanhood.

It’s beautiful.

Rosabel smiled, looking up from her work. Thank you, Nana.

Her grandmother’s pale blue eyes lit up as she inspected the work. Better than my own work at your age. I’m so proud of you.

Snipping of the last hanging thread, Rosabel grinned wider. She couldn’t wait to wear her creation but tradition dictated she donned it only for the festival, and the evening seemed so far away. The chiming of the small clock on the wall brought her from her reverie, and she gasped.

Goodness. I’ll be late for work. She laid the cloak across the back of her chair, pausing as she saw the trail of tears on her nana’s cheeks. Oh, Nana. Cloak forgotten, she threw her arms around the older woman. No matter what, you’ll always be a part of my life.

I can’t believe how fast you’ve grown. I still remember you as a babe in a basket left on my front stoop. Nana drew in a deep breath while squeezing Rosabel tight.

Don’t worry, Nana. I haven’t forgotten your teachings. She pulled back and winked. I shall not fall for the first silver-tongued man to woo me. Nor the second.

Nana chuckled, drying her eyes against her sleeve. I think, my dear, that you will have them all stuttering fools. Best be getting to the bakery before Mrs. Bonnet thinks you’ve got your head in the clouds again.

Well, it will be worth it when she sees the amount of berries I've picked. Rosabel affixed her head covering, a piece of cloth to keep her hair back and the bodice covered. Since she blossomed, a modest appearance was required until the festival at harvest moon. She gave Nana a kiss on the cheek before heading out the door.

With her basket in the crook of her arm, Rosabel strutted with pride through the small village near her home. The anticipation of tonight lightened her step and shopkeepers smiled as she passed. Living outside the town in the thick of Argonne Forest made the pool of potential suitors to consider slim. The woods were no place to get caught in after dark and thus far, she knew of no man who had braved it to steal a glimpse of some porcelain-skinned beauty living outside the village. While the festival introduced those of age to marry, Rosabel observed many her age fraternizing with a glance or brush of the hand in the open market. She only hoped to find someone whose heart beat as fierce as hers.

Opening the door to the bakery, she inhaled the fresh aroma of sweet treats and hearty breads. Good morning, Mrs. Bonnet. I’ve found the juiciest patch of blackberries the forest has to offer.

Rosabel, I thought I told you not to bother to come into work today. You’ve a big night ahead. The robust woman came out of the back carrying a tray full of small, caramelized rolls and set them down. Rosabel’s mouth watered, the heavenly scent of the sugary snack awakening her appetite.

Mrs. Bonnet covered her mouth in delight, a smile spreading. My Rosabel! You have grown into a woman. Not even your clothes can hide that glow. She squeezed between the counters and gave Rosabel a hug. Now remember, do not be swayed by the first man who kneels at your feet. Make them court you properly.

Rosabel laughed. You sound like Nana. I’m to bat my eyelashes and smile demurely. She fluttered her lids and lowered her head before giggling. "The strawberries are almost ripe. I can bring a half