Desert

Titania.

The moment her hooves touched the Salem soil, he knows. The whispering zephyrs bring him the hauntingly familiar scent of birch and ocean breeze. Even before his eyes fall upon her, the memory of her flame-filled eyes haunt his thoughts. Titania. HIS Titania.

He had never meant to want her, just as he had never meant to feel the burning within him the moment Zjeena and her twins washed up on his shores those long years ago in Paradise. She had been only a mere conquest, a proof brought to life of his authority and power over the islands. Rille had bent then, shattered beneath the weight of his superiority and prowess. Titania was meant to be a spoil of war, polished and shined and discarded only when he tired of her beauty or broke her spirit and stubbornness. Yet, unlike Zjeena, the star sparkled mare refused him at every turn. Instead of acknowledging herself as a maiden who captured the wolf’s eye, she fled from him, hiding in the shadows and running from island to island to avoid the tenderness of the beast’s touch. Where Liland had sealed his own fate in Zjeena’s eye, Rille still held the fae mare’s loyalty, long after his disappearance and abandonment. Why? Perhaps that is what caused him to pursue her so, caused him to spend countless nights wandering beneath the starlit skies and dreaming of the day when his lips might once more brush feathersoft touches along her back in hopes of turning her ire away from him and onto the world that dealt her such cards.

Titania… she was his soul made flesh. The tenderness and wisdom of Zjeena and the fierce fury and determination of Monster rolled up into one nice neat little package. She was the part of him that was long missing, the part of his soul that vanished when his mates both disappeared from his Paradise. She completed him even as she did all within her power to escape him.

Where it any other (especially Vanya), he might have considered her willing arrival on his shores as suspicious; especially considering how long he has stalked her shadow. He should have considered what her arrival meant and yet her mere scent is enough to overwhelm him and the beast at once. Without any further thought, he is away, shooing the tag along Tala from his path and ignoring her demanding questions. Titania. It is the sole thought on his mind as his strides lengthen beneath him and his heart beats a quickened rhythm, excitement and anticipation tugging for control until he is left breathless. Slowly he tops the dunes of sand that stop the sea’s charge upon the Desert and his searching green eyes are not left wanting. There, standing picturesque with the backdrop of frothing ocean waves lapping at the creamy sands behind her, is his Titania. The epitome of a queen, she holds her head high, pride still clinging to every fiber of her being despite all that he has stolen from her. A broad smile curves across his graying, whiskered lips as the wolf stalks forward, letting the loose sands carry him down the incline with little effort. He does not bother to call to her, for no doubt her keen eyes have already found him as his green pools remain glued upon her. Searching.

Unlike before, there is no fear in her eyes, no worry of discovery or apprehension to take advantage of. Here, the shadows are few and far between, a land of bright sunlight and cold nights meant for the harshest of hearts. She moves with the same graceful steps that he remembered from the first moment his eyes lay upon her, dancing through the white birch trees of the Thicket. There is no tension beneath her skin, save for what muscles are needed to propel her effortless steps forward, towards him, not away. Her nostrils flare to drink in the scent of the desert but not in fear or worry, but in acknowledgement. His smile widens.

”Ready to accept my offer hmmm?” he murmurs, as the space closes between them and he comes to a halt in front of her. Multifaceted eyes of emerald hues study her own dark pools, admiring the way the sunlight brightens her irises to a rich golden hue. ”Titania…” he whispers, her name rough against the rawness of emotions that her appearance stirs. His thickly muscled neck stretches towards her now, his own nostrils flaring to drink in the sweet familiarity of her perfume. ”Are you ready to be mine?” he growls, the last word hanging in the stillness that builds between them.