A Sin of Her Own

Chapter 3

The crumpled letter remained in the trash where it belonged, according to Titania, who had not spared it another glance.

She'd memorised the details, planned it and now focused her attention back to the everyday running of the pack; which always had an issue of some sort, be it lack of game for dinner, territory breaches, patrol rotas or the most dreaded to Titania: paperwork and documentation. How she despised filling out countless meaningless forms and yet it was where she found herself most.

Sat behind her varnished oak desk with her usual sour expression, she tore her gaze from the ominous letter in the bin and signed another slip of paper.

Hours passed. Sign this. Approve that.

To her, while it was a task that caused her own brain to melt at the repetitive drivel; it let her somewhat breathe. She didn't appreciate too much social interaction between other's and the time to herself served her well.

Titania needed the time to herself before the ceremony or else she'd break some bones: just like the last one she attended. The arrogant male knew his place as soon as she tore into his scrotum. As if she'd allow the male's advances. She was not näive - not anymore.

He was lucky Eóghan had interfered and she had just missed the jugular; despite how desperate her wolf was for blood she backed down, recognising that her rash actions could have caused a war between the packs. Although, inwardly, she knew her wolves would come out on top.

But those who knew of Titania and her claim to fame knew not to engage in romantic or sexual relations, or touch her in any such a way.

It came to no surprise that the wolf met the consequences of his wandering hands and none paid him any pity. Stupidly, got you nowhere. Stupidity left you with one ball and twenty stitches to your penis.

A knock echoed through her office and she looked up. Garth and a few other warriors were standing in the doorway awkwardly and even as intense as Garth was, he refused to meet her eyes. A dark sliver twisted her stomach as she could sense something amiss.

Tapping her claws impatiently off the desk she awaited with cold precision. She never gave, only took.

"We encountered a stray rogue on the borders and followed the order to kill on sight," Garth ran a hand over his forehead, "and believed that was it. Turns out it was an ambush, six rogues against two wolves on patrol, Olig and Henry. Minor casualties on our side but the pair left one rogue standing, assuming that you'd want to interrogate him."

She sat back in her seat. Puffed proud at the callousness and strength of her wolves. Henry and Olig were not ranked, or even fully seasoned warriors but had carried out an attack, an ambush of all things, putting thought above bloodlust and she almost growled in contentment.

Oh, how she'd have fun with the one who didn't get away.

Awaiting her answer with a thick muse of tension in the air the wolves anticipated anger, fury almost but Titania sat there. Face blank, body flax and if it wasn't for the telltale spark of morbid excitement that flicked beneath her arctic eyes, it would have been awfully difficult to spot her mood.

"I'm pleased."

The wolves let out a breath they didn't realise they were holding.

She continued, "Send for Olig and Henry and tell them I want to talk to them about the attack after they are fully healed." She tapped her chin in thought, pride from her side didn't come about often and she felt a need for a celebration.

"Dinner tomorrow will be a feast, roast one of the hogs." She caught the males anticipation at such a request, for meat was always carefully utilised, never thrown together in haste; unless it was an occasion or another event of high standing.