Werewolves?
She lived a world where being mundane was rare. In a world where werewolves existed. In a world where werewolves ruled. In a world where they sought for their long lost maiden warrior.
When the lost was found, she was not their warrior...
"Oh, fuck the paperwork." -E.L. James, Fifty Shades of Grey
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The annual agreement had been drafted for the allies of Royal Pack by the Deltas of the pack. It was given to me for proof reading. Being a Luna was tiring enough. But being an architect combined with pack Luna duties.... Oh Goddess! A soft knocking interrupts me from my proof reading. "Come in!" I call out frustrated.
A lady in an expensive looking mauve pantsuit hugging her luscious curves enters my office. Her sky-high heels clicking on the marble floor as she brushes her salon-blond layered hair out of the way. Her plastered too sweet smile and diamond studs; her only accessories as she hugs an iPad to herself. That the latest version too. Besides the fact that she is good looking and had a figure to die for, everything about her screams professional. Well except one thing of course.
Her blouse seemed to be undone a little too far.
"Luna," she addresses damn politely. One of the well groomed women who grew up with money and breeding. I nod at her curtly but raise my eyebrows in reflex. "Yes?" "I'm Sienna. Sienna Whitman," she says holding out her harlot red manicured hand. Just like her harlot red lipstick. "The Royal Chief Event Planner." Event planner? I too extend my hand to her politely, "Blythe Archer."
"So," she takes a deep breath and continues, "We have a lot to get on with. We have to decide on the theme first, so that we could approve the budget plan. Then we can head on to the decor and gown fitting. Also the venue arrangeme-" I hold up one finger to pause her.
"I'm sorry. But excuse me, what is this regarding?" I ask her laying my palms flat on the papers ahead of me. Her mouth rounds up into a perfect 'o.' She shakes her head again as a frown etches her face and her sweet smile follows. "The Coronation, of course," she replies in an obvious tone. "The Coronation?" I ask her confused. What have I been missing?
"Rick?" I mind link him instantly. "Angel, I'm at a meeting right now. I'll talk later," he cuts me abruptly and blocks the link. Mr. Annoyer. I gesture Sienna to be seated in one of the chairs opposite me to which she politely obliges. Picking up my phone, I call Rick as I get up from my desk and move away near to the French windows. He answers on the second ring, "Blythe, I said I'm at a meeti-" "When were you going to tell me about the Coronation?" I inquire cutting him off.
The other side goes dead silent and move my phone ways from my ear to check whether he had hung up. "Rick?" I whisper yell again. "You met Sienna?" "Yes and I'm not going to have a coronation, especially in a time like this," I hiss back angrily.
"Hold on," he states and I'm awarded with a beeping sound. He. Hung. Up. On. Me. Nice. I briefly close my eyes in infuriation. I loathe it when people do that. Especially to me.
