He got within feet when she whirled and lifted the knife, not to brandish it at him, to point it at him.
"Don't you get near me," she snapped, jerking the knife at him on the word "you". Then she turned back to the carrot she was annihilating and kept chopping. "You could have killed me."
"I'm aware of that, little one," he replied, forcing his voice to be soft.
Her shoulders tensed but she kept chopping. "I pray to God whoever has my meds gets here in time."
"They'll get here," he said firmly.
"I would say I'd never forgive you for this but if this hadn't ended the way I hope," she whirled on the word "hope" and narrowed her gaze at him, "it will, I wouldn't be around long enough to forgive."
Her declaration rattled him even further but he didn't let it show.
"Stop chopping and put down the knife," Callum ordered gently and she instantly adhered to his command. Slamming the knife down on the counter and picking up the cutting board, she dumped the carrot on top of the salad leaves already in a bowl.
She did this clumsy in her anger and carrots went everywhere.
She ignored the raining carrots, slammed the cutting board back down and reached for a cucumber.
He advanced, positioning himself behind her and caught her wrists, both of them, and wrapped her arms around her belly along with his own as he leaned down so his mouth was at her ear.
Her entire frame, from head-to-toe, tensed at his touch.
He ignored it and murmured, "I'm sorry I worried you, baby doll."
As a child she was, in his sharp recollection, a living doll. He'd never forgotten her, not a single feature, not a moment.
He had been pleased that morning to hear she hadn't forgotten him either and more pleased that their meeting had clearly had as profound an effect on her as it had on him. It gave him another sliver of hope that she understood their connection on some level and she might, soon, embrace it (heartily).
On that thought, he pulled her deeper into his body.
She was silent through this.
"Sonia," he called.
"I'll accept your apology the minute your man walks through that door."
"Fair enough," he agreed.
"Now, take your hands off me," she demanded.
"No," he replied.
She went even stiffer.
Callum ignored it again.
"My people are affectionate, Sonia. We touch. We hug. We cuddle." Amongst other, more pleasurable things he decided it sensible not to share at that moment. "You're going to need to get used to this."
"Well, I don't have any people therefore I'm not used to cuddling, touching and hugging. Especially guys I've known for a few hours. Now, take your hands off me!" she snapped.
His response was to pull her closer.
Her response was to go even stiffer.
He decided to change the subject and said, "If you think I'm eating salad for lunch ndash;"
"I'm making you grilled cheese sandwiches. You can have cheese for every meal for all I care. I'm having saladhellip;" His arms got tight at this defiance but she talked right through it. "I had food enough for two meals at breakfast but I'll need something light before dinner and you are just going to have to force feed me if you want it any different."
Callum grinned into her hair.
Finally, he was beginning to enjoy this.
Therefore, he agreed, "All right, Sonia."
"Now, please, would you take your hands off me?"
He rubbed his temple against her hair then slid his lips around the curve of her ear.
He liked her smell. It was human but it was far from unpleasant.
As his lips rounded the curve of her ear, he felt a short tremor shudder through her rigid body before she jerked solid.
Yes, definitely beginning to enjoy this.
He moved his lips to the skin behind her ear and repeated, "All right, Sonia."
Then he let her go and watched her start to decimate the cucumber while he walked back to his laptop.
He found, twenty minutes later, she made excellent grilled cheese sandwiches.
And, he had to admit, the salad wasn't bad either.
Chapter Six
King
Sonia was standing in the kitchen boiling the kettle for a cup of her favorite herbal tea, telling herself she wasn't grateful to Callum for making certain it was stocked. But she was grateful. She drank that tea all the time. She didn't know what she'd do without it.
This was after an afternoon spent gazing in the fire and plotting her escape.
She did this while listening to him talk on the phone seventeen times. She'd counted. There was nothing better to do, except plot her escape, of course.
Either he was a really good actor, this was a more elaborate pretence than she imagined or he did, indeed, have "men". At least three of them that she could count. One named Ryon, one named Caleb and one named Calder and all of them reported in frequently on a variety of what sounded like war-like subjects that included Callum giving a variety of leader-of-the-gang-like orders.
He also spent a good deal of time on his computer.
Luckily, the rest of the time he left her alone so she could plot her escape.
And plot she did.
She didn't have any shoes but she did have a bunch of socks and he had several pairs of boots.
Okay, so his feet were large like his hands.
But if she put enough socks on, maybe she could keep his boots on her feet long enough for her to get away.
And get away she was going to do. It had been thirty-one years since she wandered this forest with her father but when she was a kid she wandered with him all the time and she had a good memory. Her father loved being out of doors, especially at night, and he took Sonia with him.
The animals weren't only unafraid of her. Her father, too, had that particular gift. They saw wildlife in the moonlight with their night vision (her father had that too) and she remembered, quite keenly, that those times were magical.
She also remembered a cave not too far away that her father had shown her.
Not only shelter but she would imagine that Callum would guess she'd seek assistance, not shelter herself in a cave until the coast was clear.
She could take a blanket, wrap up some food and she would go, hang out there until the weather cleared and then move out, find someone and report her kidnapping.
If it kept snowing, her footprints would be covered in minutes.
Further, she had better hearing, eyesight and smell than Callum. She'd be able to sense him if he came after her.
He was, it came to her too late after all that had happened that morning, that presence she'd sensed last night, the alluring one as, obviously, the cosmos could play a pretty mean joke. She'd noticed it (and it broke her heart) the instant he walked in from finishing with the logs and it had invaded the house when she opened his bag and put away his clothes.
If he came after her, got anywhere near her, she'd know it.
Once she got her medication, she hoped it didn't quit snowing. Then she could get away from that scary, bossy (but handsome) jerk.
They'd had dinner and she'd made a big one. Steak, baked potatoes (with butter and sour cream, her h*ps were never going to forgive her), veggies and rolls. She didn't want to give him reason to pin her against the counter or do anything else that set her teeth on edge and made her want to scratch his eyes out. And she told herself the meal wasn't absolutely delicious (when it was).
Now she was going to have tea, examine the cupboards to plan what to take with her, pray that his "man" could get through the thick blanket of snow that was still falling and then she was going to call it a night.
Through the whistle of the kettle, she sensed it.
Someone was coming.
She didn't make a move or give any indication that she felt anything.
But she knew they were coming.
Oh my God! I hope it's park rangers, she thought.
"Wait here," Callum ordered and her head snapped up.
He slid off the stool and went swiftly to the walk-in closet. He exited carrying some of his clothes and a pair of his boots.
He walked directly to the door, turned to her and stated, "I'll be back in five minutes. Make coffee."
Then he was gone.
She stared at the door.
What was he doing now?
Then she thought, Five minutes.
Did she have enough time to gather what she needed, bulk up on clothes and get out of there? Maybe even waylay who was out there and ask for their assistance?
No.
It was too much of a risk.
She'd have to do it when he was sleeping. Five minutes wouldn't give her a good enough head start and if she didn't manage to find whoever was out there, even with her keen senses in this storm she might get lost.
She didn't need to go from the frying pan (kidnapped by a madman) to the fire (lost in a snowstorm).
She needed to stick to her plan.
She moved to the coffeepot and it was dripping away when the door opened.
Sonia turned to the door and stared.
Through its frame came Callum followed by another man, dark-haired too, also tall (not as tall as Callum, two, three inches shorter), muscular but without the same bulk. He looked younger as well.
But she stared because he was wearing Callum's clothes.
What on earth?
They entered, Callum closed the door, the man's eyes came to her face and then he dropped immediately to a knee.
Sonia braced for action (though she had no idea what she would do) as she thought for a second he might be overcome by hypothermia or something. But she watched as his hand came out to the floor beside his knee and his head dropped down.
Then, in a strong, deep voice that carried across the room but, no matter, she'd have heard it if he said it one hundred feet away and outside in this raging blizzard, he muttered reverentially, "My queen."
Sonia gawped.
He stayed bowed with head low.
"Rise," Callum murmured quietly but unmistakably regally.
What on earth?
The man stood and grinned at her.
Then he turned to Callum and remarked, "She's pretty."
Sonia's startled eyes went from the man to Callum who was watching her.
"That she is," he mumbled and then lifted his chin to Sonia. "Waring needs a cup of coffee, little one, something to eat. See to it."
Sonia blinked as Callum slapped the man on the back and escorted him into the room.
What was going on?
She hadn't heard a vehicle. She'd heard and smelled a person approaching the cabin.
Apparently, Callum had sensed him too!
And why was he in Callum's clothes? How did he get there on foot through a blowing blizzard in no clothes? And what did he mean, "My queen"? And what did Callum mean, "See to it"?
And, what, she felt it pertinent to repeat, was going on?
"Sonia." Callum's firm voice came at her and her body jolted her out of her reverie. "Coffee. Waring's been running the last ten miles."
Running?
"Yes, of course," she murmured, attempting to mask her alarm and, she had to admit, curiosity, and called to the other man, "How do you take it?"
"With two fingers of whisky," he replied, still grinning at her. He waited for Callum to set down a small satchel on the coffee table and sit before he took his seat, looked at Callum and repeated, "Really, your grace, she's seriously pretty."
Your grace?
"I noticed," Callum replied, humor in his tone.
In spite of herself, hearing Callum agree she was "seriously pretty" with that warm humor in his voice made a shiver dance across Sonia's skin.
She pretended that didn't happen, found the whisky, poured in two fingers, added the coffee, took it to the living room and handed it to the man.
"Thank you for bringing my ndash;" she started but before she could finish Callum's hands shot out, curved around her h*ps and she was flying through thin air for a moment before she landed in his lap.
This made Waring grin again.
It made Sonia twist around and glare before snapping, "Callum!"
Callum completely ignored her, his arms closing tight as he asked Waring, "You want a sandwich or do you want Sonia to grill you a steak?"
Waring patted his flat belly and said, "Had some fast food before I transformed. I'm good. The coffee and whisky will set me up. The weather's not half bad a bit down the mountain. It's just up here you're really getting it." His grin widened and he said, "And it's all downhill on the way back."
Both Callum and Waring laughed at this like it was the height of hilarity.
Sonia didn't get it.
Then again, Sonia wasn't getting anything. Except the fact that Callum, Sonia noted with extreme annoyance, had a great laugh.
Which was also part of the cosmos's joke, no doubt.
"So, we go on campaign, is Queen Sonia coming with us?" Waring asked, grinning at her again. "She'd be useful. Makes good coffee," he finished before he took another sip.
"Likely not," Callum answered. "She's human. Only way to assure her safety."
Human?
Safety?
"Figured," Waring muttered.
Slowly, Sonia turned her head to look at Callum.
When her eyes met his, he dipped his head, rubbed his temple against hers, her body went rock-solid and he whispered in her ear, "I'll explain later."
He pulled his head back, she glared at him and then turned to Waring. "I don't think we'll be going on campaign since there are so many things Callum's going to be," she lifted her hands and made quotation marks, "lsquo;explaining later' that it might take until the new millennium for him to do it."
Both Callum and Waring laughed at that too.
Sonia decided not to inform them she wasn't being funny.
Then she decided, since this was way too weird for words, not to object that Callum seemed perfectly happy chatting away with Waring while she sat in his lap. Something which she was not perfectly happy about.
When Waring finished his coffee, Callum stood, taking Sonia with him and placing her on her feet. Waring stood after him and Callum left them to go to the laptop.
"Take this data stick to Caleb, will you?" he asked, handing the stick to Waring who took it.
"You got a back up?" he enquired and then looked at Sonia and said preposterously, "Saliva. Probably not good for data sticks."
"What?" Sonia breathed but Callum was pulling her medication from the satchel and she saw it was wrapped in brown paper and taped to oblivion.
When the satchel was empty, he tossed it to Waring.
"Good thinking," Waring said to Callum and again turned to Sonia. "That's why he's king."
"King?" Sonia whispered but Callum was beside her. His hand sliding along her shoulders, he tugged her against his side and together they walked Waring to the door just like they were an old married couple moving to wave away a party guest.
At the door, Waring turned and bowed his head to Sonia. "It was an honor to meet you, your grace." Then he lifted his head and grinned yet again.
Before Sonia could say a word, Callum squeezed her shoulder. "I'll be back in five minutes."
Then he and Waring walked out the door.
Sonia stared at the door and she did this for a while.
Then she asked it, "What just happened?"
The door didn't feel like sharing its secrets.
She and a sharp knife were in the kitchen wrestling with the tape on her medication when Callum came back, again carrying the clothes.
Sonia stopped dead, package in hand, knife point inserted in a miniscule area not taped where she hoped it might find purchase and watched as Callum walked to the closet, threw in the boots then walked to the bathroom and came out without the clothes.
He moved into the kitchen, stopped close to her, leaned a hip against the counter, reached out and pulled the knife from her frozen hand and set it aside. Then he took the package out of her hands.
Coming out of her stupor, Sonia asked, "Is it later?"
His eyes never leaving her, he brought the package up to his mouth and with his even, white teeth, he tore open a section of the tape. Then he ripped off the rest of the packaging, held both boxes in his hands and gazed at them.
Finally, his head came up. "You need to take this now?"
"I asked if it's later," she repeated.
"And I asked if my mate needs the medication that will stop her from dying an agonizing death," Callum returned calmly. "As you can see, my question has priority."
It was time for her to take her medication though she could wait. Any time in the late evening was okay.
She'd rather have a few answers.
She looked at him, saw the set of his face and gave in.
"I could take it."
"Let's go," he said and started to the bathroom.
Did he say "let's go"?
Let's go?
Sonia stood stock-still.
Callum turned back. "Sonia."
"Give me the meds. I'll ndash;"
He cut her off by saying, "You're going to teach me how to give it to you."
She stayed stock-still but her mouth dropped open.
Then she said, "No, I'm not."
To which he replied, "Yes, you are."
"No, I ndash;"
"Sonia, come here."
"But, you ndash;"
"Come here or I'll come get you."
Her voice grew shrill. "I can't believe you think ndash;"
He started toward her. She started retreating.
In seconds, she was flung over his shoulder and in a few more seconds she was set on her feet in the bathroom.
She barely got her body under her control before his torso twisted and he closed and locked the door while she stared at him in irritated horror.
Then he twisted back and demanded, "Now, show me what to do."
She made a snatch for the boxes but he yanked them away and he was far taller and had the arm span of a giant, drat the man!
"I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself," she snapped.
"What if you're not?" he asked.
"What do you mean, what if I'm not? I've been doing it every day since I was eleven. I am capable of doing it," she retorted.
He bent at the waist to get closer and it took everything she had not to lean back.
"What if you're not?" he repeated. "What if there comes a time where you can't give it to yourself? You have flu and you're delirious. As your mate, I need to know how to take care of you."
Really?
Did he seriously think she was his mate?
She'd known him a day!
And it was the weirdest, scariest day of her life!
He washellip; crazyhellip; as ahellip; loon!
"You aren't my mate," she snapped.
"Sonia, I am."
"You are not."
He straightened and looked to the ceiling before muttering, "Bloody hell."
"You can say that again," she huffed, crossing her arms on her chest.
He dipped his chin down to look at her. "Just show me how to give you the f**king injection."
"No!"
"Show me!" he barked right in her face.
This was one of those times that set her teeth on edge and made her want to scratch his eyes out.
"Goddamn it, Sonia ndash;" he started but she interrupted him.
"You want me to show you? Then give me the boxes so I can gosh darn show you!" she snapped.
He scowled at her a moment before he handed her the boxes.
Then with extreme ill-grace, Sonia showed him how to load the needle and with even more extreme embarrassment, she turned, undid her belt and cords and pulled her pants down to expose her upper right buttock.
"Just jab it in and press," she bit out angrily. "The faster the bet ndash;"
She stopped talking when she felt the heat of his fingers grazing her bare skin. She jerked up and whirled.
"Callum, just jab ndash;" she started but he set the injection aside, grasped her h*ps and turned her. "Callum," she said, twisting her head to look at him then snapped, "Callum!" when his thumb hooked in her pants and pulled them a few inches down over her hip while his other hand held her firm.
"Baby doll," he murmured as his thumb slid along her skin.
"What are you doing?" she tried to snap but it came out breathy.
His thumb stroked back, softly, even tenderly.
Then his eyes came to hers. "You look like a f**king pin cushion."
Her body grew tight and she looked away.
"That happens when you have to take an injection every night," she informed him. "Now if you'd just ndash;"
His hands at her h*ps became arms around her belly and he pulled her into his big, hard body.
"I don't like this," he said into the hair on top of her head.
He didn't like it? He should try being her.
"I don't like it either," she replied. "It's not fun. That's why it's better just to do it fast and get it over with."
For a moment, he was silent. Then he sighed.
Then, without letting her go, he reached out with one hand to nab the injection.
"Pull down your cords for me," he ordered gently.
She did as she was told and without delay, she felt the jab.
Then she felt the burn.
Her arm flew out and her fingers curled around the basin while she sucked in breath, closed her eyes and fought the pain.
When it burned out, she found herself wrapped tight in his arms, tucked in his body with his face buried in her neck.
His warm embrace unsettled her.
Because it felt good.
She'd always battled the pain alone. It only lasted a minute or two but it still hurt.
She'd never had anyone, not anyone, help her battle the pain. Not since her Momma and Papa, who held her close after giving her the injection. Gregor was not a "holding close" type of guy.
It also surprised her.
Callum was a pretty domineering man though he'd also shown moments of tenderness.
But nothing like this.
Her fingers curled around his forearms, "Callum."
"It hurts." It was a statement.
"Yes."
"It looked bad."
"It's excruciating."
His arms tightened further.
"Callum, it's okay. I'm used to it."
"There's no other way?"
She shook her head.
His face shoved deeper into her neck before he whispered, "Baby doll."
Before she could say anything else, he'd done up her cords and belt then she was cradled in his arms and they were out of the bathroom, Callum striding to the living room.
He laid her on the couch and didn't hesitate in joining her, stretching out and pinning her between his big body and the back of the couch.
She looked at him and announced, "I'd like some tea."
"I'll get you some in a minute. Tell me about your thing."
"What thing?"
"Your blood thing."
She pulled in breath.
He was being way too nice. And way too concerned. And way too sweet.
And it was messing with her head.
Then she thought it best to give him what he wanted. It'd be over sooner that way.
"I don't know much about it, no one does. It's that rare. I've lived with it my whole life. There's one treatment, the injection. I know that because I've talked to my doctor about alternatives but there are none."
"Are they researching it?" Callum asked.
"No, like I said, it's rare. I'm lucky there's even a treatment."
His voice was soft when he said, "Honey, what I saw in there, that isn't luck."
There it was.
Too nice. Too concerned.
Way too sweet.
She tried to be nonchalant about it. "Trust me, Callum, if I don't take the treatment, it's that times about ten thousand," she informed him. "I tried it once, went off the meds for two days, I thought I was boiling alive."
"Jesus," he muttered on a wince.
She stared.
He was feeling this.
Deeply.
Which made Sonia feel something deeply too.
Something insane.
A strong pull toward him to soothe and comfort.
Before she could stop herself, she pressed closer and assured, "Callum, it's okay. I'm used to it." She gave him a teasing grin. "I think it was probably good I had my teenage rebellion against the injection. I learned, quickly, it's better than the alternative."
His eyes bored into hers and he replied, "I'm not finding this amusing."
Yes, he was feeling this.
And yes, it was deeply.
She didn't know what to do with that. It made her forget he was a madman and think he might be her dream man.
Her handsome wolf.
Which had to be why she couldn't fight that odd pull.
And this had to be why her grin faded, she pressed even closer and her voice went soft when she said, "That's because it's not amusing. But it's two minutes of pain every day. At least there's something that helps, even if it's an awful something. It could be far worse."
His arms around her got tight and one hand drifted up her back into her hair to tuck her face in his neck.
Then he said, "I'm giving you the injection every night."
Sonia's body jolted and her head jerked back. "What?"
He tipped his chin down to look at her. "You heard me."
"Okay then, why?"
"You shouldn't do that alone."
"I've been doing it alone for twenty-six years," she pointed out.
"That means you're not doing it alone," he stated implacably.
"This is ridiculous!" she snapped, trying to push away only for him to pull her back, this time even closer.
"You could barely stay standing," he told her, head still tipped down but his eyes had gone tawny.
Well, she learned something. His eyes went gold for a lot of reasons, including anger.
Good to know.
In the face of his anger, she still retorted, "I'll repeat, I've been doing this for twenty-six years."
"And I'll repeat, you're not doing it alone any longer. I'm giving you the f**king injection."
Sonia glared.
Callum scowled.
His scowl, she reckoned, was a lot better than her glare.
She reckoned this because he didn't back down, she did.
"You know," she started tartly, "for a brief second there I thought you were nice, even sweet. You're not. You're a big, bossy jerk."
His face began to soften and she saw the blue start to seep back into the gold of his irises before he started, "Sonia ndash;"
She cut him off and shoved at his chest (to no avail) before demanding, "Can I have tea now?"
Callum sighed the sigh of a man beleaguered, which irritated her even more.
He hadn't been kidnapped. He hadn't been bossed around. He hadn't been forced to receive an injection from some woman he barely knew.
Why he sounded beleaguered she'd never know!
He cut into her thoughts. "I'll get you some tea then we're talking about what happened earlier when Waring was here."
She pushed up and managed to get on an elbow. "Don't do me any favors, wolf, I'll get my own tea and I don't want to talk about ndash;"
She stopped speaking because all of a sudden she wasn't on an elbow.
She was flat on her back and most of his weight was pinning her to the couch.
And, it should be noted, the tawny had beaten back the blue in his eyes and his face was so far away from soft, it wasn't funny.
"Callum ndash;"
"You call me lsquo;wolf' when you want me near you, when you want me to hold you and when you want me to f**k you. You don't call me lsquo;wolf' when you're pissed at me, is that understood?"
Sonia didn't know what came over her, she'd never felt anything like it before.
Further, it wasn't smart. It wasn't cautious. It wasn't treading carefully with a kidnapping madman.
But she also didn't care.
In the face of what appeared to be his rage, she didn't back down. No matter that he was way bigger and way, way stronger than she. No matter that he told her he'd executed two men last night because they'd touched her.
She was just that tired of this whole situation.
"Let me see if I've got this right," she snapped back. "You've told me what to eat. You've made me be somewhere I don't want to be. Now, you're telling me what to say?"
"You got it right," he ground out.
"Oh, you're right I got it right," she bit out then yelled. "You are a big, bossy jerk!"
His eyes narrowed and he clipped, "I asked, is that understood?"
"I speak English, Callum, it's understood," she retorted. "I also heard you say I could use that word when I wanted you near me, when I wanted you to hold me and when I wanted you to f**k me so don't hold your breath because you'll never hear me call you lsquo;wolf' again!"
She was panting when she was finished, her chest rising and falling with her breaths.
His voice dipped lower just as his face dipped to hers when he warned, "I've a mind to test that threat."
Her breathing escalated, as did her pulse, but she still invited, "Have at it. Let's see if you can make today a grand slam in demonstrating all the ways to make your supposed mate hate you!"
He scowled at her.
She glared at him.
And she felt no triumph whatsoever when he broke the staring contest, did a push up, knifed away from her getting to his feet but leaned low over her. "I'm getting you tea. You move from that couch, Sonia, this farce ends now."
Her breath stopped.
There it was.
"What farce?" she whispered.
He stayed leaned over her but threw out an arm and answered, "This one. Me giving you this ludicrous courtship. Waring called you queen and bowed to you out of deference to me and who you'll become. You defy me again, I'll take you to that bed and make you my queen righthellip; fuckinghellip; now."
"Whhellip; what?" Sonia stammered in confusion (and, a great deal of fear) as she lifted up on an elbow.
"My people don't need ceremonies and rituals even though we have them. But if I f**k you and claim you, the deed is done. You're bound to me. That's all there is for my culture that makes one bit of difference. I f**k you, you're officially my queen."
"You'rehellip; you'rehellip; courting me?" she whispered.
"Did you hear a word I said this morning?"
She thought she heard all of them.
With a swift movement, he straightened and tore his fingers through his hair, leaving his hand at his neck before looking up to the ceiling and asking, "Who would f**king believe I'd rather be on a battlefield?"
Sonia wouldn't believe it.
At that moment, Sonia didn't believe anything.
Except the heartbreaking fact that he was crazy as a loon.
His head tipped down and he scowled at her. "Now stay there, don't move and I'll bring you your goddamned tea."
Then he stalked away and she did what she was told.
She had no earthly idea what was going on and she was getting more confused by the minute.
What she did know, considering the consequences, was that she wasn't going to move from the couch.
Also, she was never going to call him "wolf" ever again.
Lastly, because of that, she would always hate him, always.
And she would hate him because he forever took her beloved, handsome wolf away.
* * * * *
Callum f**ked up.
He knew it and he could kick himself for it.
He'd lost his patience and his formidable temper and further, and most regrettably, forgotten that Sonia had no idea what was going on.
He'd told her some of it but she couldn't possibly understand his mind was on a plot hatched to abduct her, debase her and maybe even murder her. A plot which meant his people were at war, people he was responsible for and a war he had to win.
He'd had her a day.
Only a day.
For over well over three hundred years, he knew he'd find his mate and be bound to her. He'd always hoped she wouldn't be his queen which would mean his father's death but, like every wolf, he anticipated with great relish finding his mate.
Now he had her not even twenty-four hours and he'd f**ked it up with her.
Ryon had warned him, even so far as pleaded with him, that he needed to be gentle and tolerant with Sonia.
It wasn't simply that Callum didn't have time for this ridiculousness (which he didn't). Callum didn't date. He didn't court. He seized. Even if his mate wasn't under threat and his people weren't at war, he had little patience for courting and furthermore didn't like it.
And, obviously, he wasn't very good at it.
He was now king but he'd always been a prince. No one questioned him. Only a scarce few, all blood and all in his inner circle, talked back. People followed his orders and understood his position and he expected this, was entitled to it.
But Sonia didn't know that.
Any of it.
In her world, men asked women on dates. They went to dinners, movies, got to know each other through conversations.
With female humans, if he wanted them, Callum might buy them a drink then he'd find an opportunity to kiss them and that was all he had to do, always all he had to do. Then he'd take them to bed.
With female wolves, he never bothered with the drink.
And he'd been wrong about her.
She was fiery and spirited and whatever led her to lead her colorless life was lost here in this cabin.
Sonia, his mate, the woman fate had bound him to woke in his bed this morning.
Then she'd become naturally confused to be where she was, and with a stranger no less, after what had happened to her last night.
Then he'd freaked her out. She'd retreated into her shell. He'd foolishly lamented his fate but only to find she came out of that shell blazing and he had more fire and spirit than he knew what to do with.
His only excuse for tonight's behavior was watching her endure the torture of her injection and he wasn't even thinking about her need to take the injection in the first f**king place.
How she could do that every night of her life was a mystery.
How he'd endure giving her that pain, he had no clue.
All he knew was that he would find a way and she would never endure it alone again.
The thought that she had for decades tore at him.
He made her tea, poured himself a whisky and determined that he was going to rectify the situation as he walked back to the couch. She was lying on her side, pillow under her cheek, eyes on the fire, noticeably back in her shell.
Fuck, Callum thought.
He placed the drinks on the coffee table and bent to pull her up. He maneuvered himself behind her, his back up against the corner of the couch, one leg cocked against the couch's back. Sonia's back was resting against his chest and stomach, her h*ps tucked in his crotch, her bottom in the seat and he tangled his remaining leg with both of hers.
She held herself stiff. As she would.
"Grab the drinks, will you, honey?" he asked softly and without hesitation she leaned forward, got their drinks and handed him his whisky over her shoulder without looking at him.
Yes, totally f**ked it up.
He initiated damage control.
"I didn't like watching you suffer that injection," he admitted.
She hesitated only a moment before replying quietly, "Yes, I noticed that."
Callum continued, "But, this morning, I did like it when you called me lsquo;wolf'."
She remained silent but her body tensed further.
Callum carried on, "So much so, when you said it in anger, it pissed me off."
She took a sip of her tea before saying, "I noticed that too."
He slid his arm around her belly and gave her a squeeze.
He sipped his whisky.
Then he said, "You need to know what's going on and you need to know who I am which will explain why I behave the way I do."
More silence.
Callum sighed.
Then he spoke. "I've mentioned lsquo;my people' and lsquo;my culture'. What I mean when I say that is, my people are different from your people. We're a secret sect of society who has been living alongside humans since recorded history."
As he spoke, her body grew even tenser and he sensed her accelerated breathing.
She thought he was a nut.
He leaned forward, taking her with him and set his glass on the coffee table. He took away her tea and did the same. Then he brought them both back and wrapped both arms around her, one at her belly, one at her chest, fingers curled around her shoulder where he stroked her.
"Rest your head on my chest," he commanded and again without delay, she did as she was told.
She was giving in.
Immediately.
Callum felt his jaw get tight as his eyes rolled heavenward.
He decided to pull out the heavy artillery.
His arms grew tighter when he told her, "Your father was a friend to my people."
He body went rock-solid before she turned in his arms and tipped her face up to look at him.
"What?" she whispered but he saw her face was filled with wonder.
Callum could do nothing but stare.
Fuck, she was pretty but looking like thathellip;
Unbelievable.
He lifted a hand to trail the backs of his fingers against the soft skin of her cheek which she allowed, fortunately, while he answered, "Senator Arlington was a friend to our people. He was a liaison between the cultures. He was a good man. A respected man. And he was a friend of my father's."
"Really?" she breathed.
"Really, baby doll," he replied gently.
Heavy artillery was a good call apparently as she didn't pull away. Her body had relaxed into his and her face was still filled with wonder.
He shifted her thick hair away from her temple and tucked it behind her ear before he continued, "My father was king for many years. Five years ago, he was killed in battle." His eyes caught hers as she gasped and he finished, "Now, I'm king."
Her lips parted but she remained silent.
Callum went on, "The evening the future king is born, at midnight, the oracles speak. Just by speaking, they herald the future king but mostly they talk of his bride."
"This is an important part, little one," he told her.
She ignored him and asked, "Were you close?"
He nodded.
"Very?" she enquired.
Callum continued to nod.
The wonder slid from her features as they grew soft with unconcealed compassion.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know how that feels."
All right.
To pretty, fiery and spirited, he could add sweet.
Sonia Arlington could be incredibly sweet.
In order not to give into his sudden, forceful urge to take her to his bed and discover just how sweet she could be, he shifted some of her hair over her shoulder. He ran his fingers through it, never taking his eyes from hers while he said, "I know you do. Senator Arlington was a fine man and my father told me he loved you very much."
Pain sliced through her eyes briefly and his arms gave her a squeeze.
She took in a soft breath and stated, "So you think I'm your bride."
He grinned and replied, "You are my bride. The oracles foretold you."
She nodded and went on, "And your people think I'm your queen."
He felt his grin widen to a smile as he declared, "You are my queen."
"And this is why I'm important to you."
"Yes. The mate of any male of my people is important, important enough to lay down his life for her. But you're queen. Any one of my people would lay down their life for you."
She stared at him a moment, her eyes unreadable then she commented, "That's an awesome responsibility."
His hands moved under her arms to pull her up his chest so her face was closer to his and he teased, "And I know how that feels." He watched one side of her lips quirk up before he went on, "It's my duty to prepare you to take on that responsibility. Today has not been a good day, baby doll, but I promise you, from now on, I'll be more patient."
"This would be good," she whispered.
He grinned at her, pleased with his endeavors and even more pleased with the results, all the while wondering if it would be a tactical error to kiss her.
Then he thought, f**k it.
His fingers sifted into her hair and brought her face closer to his but before his mouth could capture her own, she spoke.
"Do all your people's eyes do that?"
"The gold?" he asked in return and she nodded. "In a way," he answered. "The eyes of those of us with royal blood go gold. Others, yellow or brown."
"So only your family has that pretty color?"
Yes, Sonia Arlington was definitely sweet.
He nodded as he pulled her face closer at the same time tilting his to hers. "Yes."
Her head resisted and there was resistance in her tone when she whispered, "Callum ndash;"
He ignored both and finally captured her lips.
She continued to resist, pushing her head against his hand and her hand against his chest.
He slanted his head, his mouth opened over hers and his tongue touched her lips.
They tasted sweet too.
He felt her mumbled, "Oh," against his tongue but used that opportunity to slide it between her lips.
His tongue touched hers, her head stopped pushing as did her hand and she melted into him, tilting her head, her hand sliding up to curl around his neck.
The kiss was not fiery or spirited.
It was simply, brilliantly, unforgettably, sweet.
And it stirred Callum in a way he'd never felt before.
Therefore, before he truly made a tactical error by exploring that feeling and pushing her too far after f**king up so royally that day, he broke his mouth from hers and tucked her cheek against his chest.
He slid his fingers through her hair and he could hear her breath was accelerated but she didn't pull away. She just lay in his arms, her cheek against his chest.
And he prayed his damage control worked.
She took in a satisfyingly fluttering breath before she asked, "Do you want your whisky?"
"Yes, little one."
She leaned forward, nabbed his whisky and handed it to him. She leaned again and hooked her mug with her finger.
Then Sonia lay silently, cocooned by his body with her cheek against his chest, occasionally lifting her head to sip her tea while he sipped his whisky, the fire burned and the snow fell outside.
Yes, he thought with relief, it appeared his damage control worked.
And, Callum thought, living a life like this with Sonia didn't yawn before him.
Instead, it might just be sweet.
Chapter Seven
Family
"Umhellip;" Sonia muttered.
"Quiet," Callum clipped.
Sonia tensed in Callum's arms.
It appeared her attempted escape had not been such a good idea.
She remained still, cradled in his arms as he marched angrily, no, furiously through the snow heading back toward the cabin.
She had made good her escape plan (kind of, before it was thwarted).
After their first very bad day which ended in a not-so-bad late evening, she decided to spend some time lulling him into a false sense of security before she got the hell out of there. She'd pretended, through his gentle explanations that he was king of a secret sect of society, to understand and acquiesce to his lunacy. And she found pretending wasn't hard to do because of said gentleness, his talk of her father (insane and maybe even mean, even though what he said about her Papa was nice) and his father (who he obviously missed, or convinced himself he did).
Although it wasn't hard to pretend during their chat, it was hard when she found out he expected her to sleep with him in the big bed.
Yes.
Sleep.
With.
Him.
She demurred (as anyone would!).
He insisted (but gently).
She demurred again.
He insisted (a bit more firmly).
She gave in.
Fortunately, this was relatively easy considering he was busy with the fires. This tugged at her heartstrings as she remembered her father doing the same thing. He was always at the fires in order to keep his family warm when they were at the cabin. In the bathroom, she had changed into one of her lacy, sexy, silky nightgowns and slid into bed before he'd gotten a glimpse of her.
Unfortunately, after he changed in the bathroom and walked out wearing nothing but a pair of navy flannel pajama bottoms, she got a full on view of his chest. His massive, defined, muscular chest, complete with a furring of hair that was spread in a tempting array across his chest and down his belly. Chest hair that only the hand of God could have created after which, God could only remark, "My work here is done." Callum's chest hair was justhellip; thathellip; perfect.
He'd slid into bed beside her and she was certain his big body would take most of the space (it didn't, she had a nice, comfy section all her own).
He called a soft goodnight to which she'd replied in turn.
Then she held herself tense waiting for him to try something.
He didn't.
He lay on his back and she listened as his breathing grew steady.
It took a while but finally Sonia fell asleep.
Unfortunately when she woke up, she found he'd turned his back to her but she'd turned into him and was spooning him all down his length. Close to his length. Her knees cocked in his, her h*ps snuggled in his, her arm around his waist, her torso against his back but her forehead was pressed to his shoulder blade.
She started to pull away. Before she could succeed in this, however, his fingers curled around her wrist and kept her where she was.
"I, umhellip; need to go to the bathroom," she told the smoothly muscled skin of his back.
He released her wrist but rolled, she scooted back to avoid his big body but before she could scoot out of reach, his arm tagged her waist and he pulled her mostly underneath him.
Her eyes caught his and his were tawny.
Good goodness, but she liked it when his eyes went tawny (even though she told herself she didn't).
"Look forward to waking up like that every day, baby doll," he muttered, his voice hoarse with sleep.
Sonia gulped.
Callum smiled.
Her heart clutched at his smile.
His head dropped down and to the side, he rubbed his temple against hers and then he let her go.
That day couldn't have been more different than the one before.
They did not fight.
They ate way too much and way too fatty foods.
They talked. About his father, her father and the fact they'd been long-time friends (supposedly). About his kingdom which, apparently, was world-wide and included armies and territories which were overseen by governors and all sorts of other stuff.
Seriously, he had a vivid imagination. It was fascinating but it was insane.
Though, deep down, the more he talked and the pride and fondness in his voice made her want to believe this world was real.
And he talked about her queendom. Essentially, she had nothing to do except the small duties of being at his side all the time and supporting him in everything he wished to do.
Even though she asked, he said they'd get into "the war" later.
Most of the talking happened while they were cuddling, either Sonia sitting in his lap or both of them stretched on the couch with Sonia in his arms.
Indeed, his informing her that his people were "affectionate" was an understatement. He was the touchiest person she'd ever met.
Gregor, nor Yuri, touched, hugged or cuddled. They were often coolly affectionate but not in any physical way.
But with Callum, even when they weren't cuddling he found ways to touch her. Like while she was cooking, he'd get close, put a hand to her waist and look over her shoulder at the food she was preparing. Or when she was playing solitaire on his computer, he walked up behind her, wrapped his arm around her chest, pulled her back to his front and held her there for long moments before bending, rubbing his temple against hers and letting her go.
He never said anything. He just touched.
He was, all day, as he promised, entirely different ndash; patient and tender, sometimes teasing and sweet.
Especially when he gave her the injection. His reaction was no less severe and her reaction to his soothing embrace was no less deep.
Obviously, since he did have men (he, again, talked to them on the phone often that day and she'd even met the cheeky but deferential Waring), she decided he was a leader of a cult or something. Somehow, he'd locked onto her as his "mate" and, being the leader, had convinced his people she was their queen.
They had resources. That was also obvious. Even small as it was, her family's cabin was outfitted spectacularly. His and her clothes were outdoorsy but they were of an excellent brand and very high quality. His cell phone and computer were top of the line. The kitchen was not only stocked to the gills, everything in it was the finest you could buy ndash; from the appliances, to the utensils, pots and pans even the food.
She didn't believe a word he said about her father but she reckoned, in his loopy mind, he did.
It was sad that this glorious man was obviously not well.
But it was scary that, as the day progressed, something was telling her she didn't care.
She understood how he recruited his followers. Because he was the kind of man you followed, even if he was insane.
There was something about him. It was more than the fact that he was incredibly good-looking (but that helped). More than the sharp intelligence in his blue eyes. More than the rich depth of his attractively accented voice. More than his manner filled with absolute confidence and exhibited through every movement of his powerful body and every word he spoke.
It was the quiet yet fierce force of his personality which was compelling and nearly impossible to resist.
As the day wore on Sonia found she wanted to believe in his world, to be a part of it, even (Lord forbid) the ridiculous but appealing idea of being his queen.
She was even trying to find ways to sort it in her brain. Telling herself seeing him in dreams for years meant they were supposed to be together just like he said they were. That maybe she was his queen. That maybe he was her handsome wolf.
But the logical side of her brain which was fighting the battle of its life against Callum's captivating pull told her there were no such things as secret sects with kings and queens and wars.
He was just a madman who kidnapped her, maybe murdered men while doing it (even bad men, but still) and he intended to make her his "mate" without her getting a word in edgewise.
Therefore, long after she heard his breathing even the second night, she made good her escape.
It scared her silly, trying to creep around silently getting prepared and out the backdoor but she did it.
Even with four pairs of thick socks on, walking in his boots was clumsy and time-consuming, it was freezing and the snow was only gently falling, which meant she had to waste precious time covering her tracks.
But even though she remembered the cave being only a short, maybe twenty minute walk away from the cabin, it took her what felt like hours to get there.
She didn't light a fire because she had no idea how but also because she didn't want him to see it.
Instead, she carefully unbundled her medicine and food, wrapped herself in the woolly blanket she brought (and she was still chilled to the bone within minutes) and stayed awake until dawn touched the sky.
She fell into an exhausted sleep while considering her next step.
Then she sensed him.
Instantly awake and alert, she jumped up but his large form was filling the mouth of the cave before she even got the blanket off her shoulders.
She stared at him.
That was impossible. When she'd sensed him, he hadn't been close.
How did he get there so fast? He couldn't sense her and no one could move that fast. He had to know about the cave.
"You knew about the cave," she whispered.
"Quiet," his voice was even and calm.
She squared her shoulders, faced off with him and told him courageously, "I don't want to go back."
"Quiet!" he roared, his voice not even or calm in the slightest.
Sonia went still.
Callum strode forward, snatched up her medicine, wrapped her in the blanket, picked her up in his arms and strode angrily from the cave.
So much for her escape attempt. She only managed to stay away a few hours.
Seriously, she was in trouble.
And she was in even more trouble because she didn't know whether to be frightened out of her mind that he found her orhellip; elated.
They were nearing the cabin and she knew instantly there were people inside.
So shocked at this, forgetting to hide her gift, she whispered, "Callum, there are people ndash;"
"Quiet."
"But ndash;"
His arms grew so tight they almost, but not quite, hurt.
She thought it prudent to be quiet so she did.
He walked right in the porch door through to the cabin's backdoor and straight into the cabin.
There were four people there. All tall. All looking a lot like Callum, three even had sky blue eyes but one had green. One was a woman.
They were all staring at Callum and Sonia with knowing, amused expressions on their faces.
Callum ignored them and tossed Sonia on the bed.
Sonia bounced then settled and looked up at Callum's handsome but enraged face, not knowing what to do or if she'd live long enough to do it.
Callum's voice was back to even and calm when he stated, "So yesterday was a lie."
Knowing this voice heralded the scary roar if she said the wrong thing, Sonia decided not to speak at all.
And anyway, they had an audience.
Were they going to do this in front of an audience?
"Answer me," Callum demanded.
Apparently they were going to do this in front of an audience.
"Umhellip;" Sonia muttered.
"Answer me!"
There it was, the roar.
Okay, maybe he was a murdering, kidnapping madman and there was a better way to play it. She just didn't know what that was and she was so angry, she didn't care.
She threw off the blanket and got to her knees, shouting, "You kidnapped me!"
"I told you, Sonia ndash;"
"I know what you told me!" she interrupted on a shriek. "That I'm your mate, your queen, yadda, yadda, yadda. Do I get a say in this?" she demanded.
"No you bloody well don't!" he shouted back.
"Well, that's unacceptable!" she yelled. "It's even insane!"
"I take you down the mountain, I put you in your house, I take away your guard, you'll be kidnapped and killed within days," he clipped.
"Seriously," she muttered scornfully.
"Seriously," he shot back.
"I ndash;" she started.
"Do you forget what happened three nights ago?" he demanded.
"Of course not!" she snapped.
"The threat is real," he informed her.
"Only if you didn't set it up to make me think it was real," she shot back.
His whole body jerked before he thundered, "Why in f**king hell would I do that?"
"To make me go along with your crazy plan!" she answered.
Callum growled, his head twisted to the side and he bit out, "I should have seized her, taken her to a castle and bedded her. This would have been finished within hours, not f**king days and not with this ridiculous garbage. But no, I listened to you."
"Don't drag me into this," the green-eyed man said, grinning ear-to-ear like their show was enormously amusing.
"Sonia, darlin'," one of the blue-eyed men was speaking to her and she moved her gaze to his, "what Callum says is true. You're his queen and you're under threat."
"You would say that," Sonia returned. "He's brainwashed you. I hate to be the one to tell you this but you're a member of his cult."
All of them, including Callum, stared at her like she'd lost her mind.
She didn't know much about brainwashing but they said brutal interventions were often the way to go when someone was addicted to something, even the charisma of another person so she forged ahead.
Anyway, she was already screwed. She had nothing to lose.
"I don't blame you," she went on. "He can be pretty charming and charismatic. Still, he's not a well man."
The newcomers all burst out laughing.
Callum scowled at her a moment before dropping his head back and saying to the ceiling, "Bloody hell."
"Sonia," the woman called and Sonia looked at her. "Sweetheart, I'm Regan, Callum's mother."
Sonia's mouth dropped open at this news.
She looked like Callum, for certain. But she had to be his sister, not his mother. In fact, she looked even younger than he was.
"What?" Sonia breathed.
Regan came forward. "Let me show you something, sweetheart," she said softly.
She had a big, designer, leather handbag over her shoulder and from it she pulled a framed photo. When Regan got close to her, she turned the photo to face Sonia. It was a picture of her mother and father's wedding day.
Standing by her mother was a tall, dignified man who looked like every man in this room, but most especially Callum. Standing by her father was the woman standing in front of her.
"Holy cow," she whispered then she looked at the woman who, from the day her parents were married decades ago, to that very day in the cabin, appeared not to have aged a moment and announced the obvious, "Photos can be altered."
"I'd known Cherise Mayfair Arlington for what seems forever," Regan declared. "She was a dear friend."
Oh no. This wasn't fair.
"Don't ndash;" Sonia warned.
"She liked pink and dressed you up in it as often as she could," Regan went on and Sonia's heart slid up her throat when she heard these words.
"Don't ndash;" Sonia repeated but that one word sounded choked.
Regan interrupted her, "Lassiter liked blue and he detested pink ndash;"
Sonia cut her off. "This isn't even nice."
It wasn't nice, them using her parents against her.
Though what Regan said was true. Her father was always trying to talk her mother out of dressing her in pink and he was always buying clothes for her that were blue. It was a silly little argument that they bickered about good-naturedly the entire, albeit heartbreakingly short, life she'd led with them in it.
No one could know that from doing research on her.
Sonia had even forgotten it.
"You haven't aged a day from that picture," Sonia accused.
Regan took in a breath and replied, "Our people age slowly."
She could say that again.
Regan moved slightly closer and pressed emotionally deeper. "Every Sunday, Lassiter made you pancakes in the shapes of stars."
Sonia's heart clutched.
Now, really. How did she know that?
No one could know that.
Except her father and mother and both of them were dead.
Sonia scuttled back on the bed, whispering, "Stop it."
Regan's voice grew sad and fond when she said, "Cherise told me your favorite book was The Giving Tree."
"Stop."
"She said she read it to you night after night."
"Stop."
"It was the only book you wanted to hear."
Sonia felt the edge of the bed and halted, staring at the woman.
Her eyes had gone tawny.
And it hit her, belatedly, that that wasn't natural, eyes that changed like that. No one's eyes did that. It was one thing for the hue to change, say, if you were wearing a certain color. But for the color to change completely? To that attractive but inexplicable shade which was not from nature or any nature that Sonia knew?
And it wasn't natural for dream men to come alive.
That didn't happen. To anyone.
Ever.
Her gaze slid through the ensemble ndash; all inordinately tall, all dark, all gorgeous, all with clear, intelligent eyes. Just like Waring last night.
Just like Callum.
Holy cow.
These people weren't like her people.
These people were of a different culture. They belonged to a secret sect of society who lived alongside humans.
Her gaze moved to Callum who was watching her closely, the anger gone from his face replaced with something profoundly gentle.
"I know this is hard for you to take in but Callum and you have been linked through eternity, even before you both existed, even before you were cells in a womb," Regan continued softly. "You're destined for each other, connected to each other. It's the way of our people. You're lifemates and, Sonia, that's a beautiful thing. Your mother and father were good friends to our people. They accepted us. They would have been so happy you were to be among us. So very happy. I promise you that, sweetheart."
As Regan spoke, Sonia never took her eyes from Callum.
"I dreamed of you," she whispered and watched as his body grew visibly taut. "Since I was a teenager, I dreamed of you."
The others started moving away but neither she nor Callum moved a muscle.
Finally, he said softly, "You know me."
"In my dreams, you've been coming to me for twenty years."
"You know me," he repeated.
Sonia nodded a jerky, frightened nod. "When I woke up the other day, I thought it was another dream."
Vaguely she heard the backdoor close.
"Do you understand you're mine?" he asked.
It was then that she did.
It sang through her soul. It made her feel whole again after being fragmented since a Christmas Eve thirty-one years ago.
No, it made her feel truly whole like she'd never felt in her life.
And, at the same exact time, it scared her senseless.
She swallowed.
Then she nodded again.
"You understand you're my queen?"
"I'm scared," she admitted freely. She had no idea why but she was scared. Of him, of the fact that his crazy stories were real, she was under threat, she belonged to him, his people were at war and she was their queen.
How did one even go about being a queen?
"I'll take care of you," he replied gently.
She gazed at him long moments before nodding again.
His body relaxed.
Then, his eyes golden and shimmering, he said quietly, "Come to your wolf, baby doll."
On trembling limbs which were moving of their own accord, she scooted off the bed, rounded it and slowly walked to him.
When she was in reaching distance he snatched her roughly in his arms and held her close. She trembled in his embrace, terrified at the overwhelming uncertainty of her future.
He sensed it and promised again, "I'll take care of you."
She nodded, her cheek sliding against his chest.
He rubbed his temple against the top of her head then held her tight until the tremors slid away.
Finally, he asked, "Are you okay?"
She nodded again, not making her lie audible.
He tipped her face to his with a fist under her chin.
"I have to do something. I'll be back in a short while. My family will take care of you while I'm gone."
Sonia nodded again.
He bent his neck and placed his temple against hers.
"We'll have a beautiful life, you and me. I'll see to it."
"Okay," she whispered.
He squeezed her tight then he let her go.
Then he was gone.
She stared into the space he'd just occupied, her mind blank.
From afar, she heard his deep voice say, "Let's run," and then she heard the answering, amused, "Fuck, yeah."
And she thought, because he was different maybe she could even tell him she was different. He above all would understand. He would never make her feel weird.
Then her mind filled with memories of hundreds of dreams of her handsome wolf.
Her "lifemate".
Her destiny.
And those dreamshellip;
Her dreams...
In some magical way, those dreams foretold her future of a beautiful, strong man who would hold her and tease her and accept her and make her feel loved.
She closed her eyes as gladness washed over her.
Then she realized in an unwelcome intrusion on her unbound joy that she had to use the bathroom.
She was finished and had a hand on the handle of the bathroom door when she heard the murmuring voices, voices that were talking outside.
"No, seriously, Regan, is he nuts?" Caleb repeated.
"You can never know who you'll be attracted to."
"A monk would be attracted to Sonia, she's f**king seriously pretty," Caleb returned and, understanding these words (and hoping she did not), Sonia's body went solid. "Not to mention, she's pretty freaking funny," Caleb finished.
"You know your brother's tastes don't tend to stray down Sonia's way."
"Even so, it's nuts. Did you see her?"
"I saw her."
"Ryon said Callum seemed impatient for the mating, wanted to get it over with so he could get on with taking down the rebellion," Caleb went on and Sonia's briefly buoyant heart lurched before Caleb mumbled, "Fuck me."
"Caleb ndash;"
"It was me, I wouldn't be shitty I was forced to spend a week with that woman in a remote cabin explaining the ways of our culture to her. It was me and I was alone with her in a remote cabin, I'd draw it out so long, it'd take a year."
"Well, it isn't you," Regan retorted firmly.
"No, it isn't and a damned shame it isn't." He paused and went on sharply, "Not for me, Regan, for her. Woman like that? She deserves a man who wants her not the mate the oracles foretold would be his queen."
Oh dear lord, Sonia thought as her lurching heart turned to stone.
"Perhaps he'll grow an attraction to her," Regan suggested.
"Oh, he'll do his duty to his people, Mac made sure of that," Caleb clipped. "The oracles said it was Sonia, Callum will mate with Sonia. The end. Every one of us expects to find the other half to our soul. Not Cal. Duty first, heart second." There was a pause and then the kicker as a finish, "Maybe, if he's lucky, as a human, she'll understand his need to f**k around on her with his kind."
Sonia sucked in breath.
"Caleb!" Regan snapped. "You don't know he'll do that. She's his mate and ndash;"
"It's Callum we're talking about, isn't it?" Caleb returned sarcastically.
Sonia rested her forehead on the bathroom door.
"I'm not talking about this anymore," Regan replied. "I'm going to go and get to know my soon-to-be daughter-in-law."
"I'm gonna run," Caleb returned irately.
"You do that, you need it," Regan retorted.
Sonia turned her back to the door and slid down it until her bottom hit the floor. Then she rested her temple on her knee as she wound her arms around her calves.
Evidently, the cosmos wasn't done with her.
So it gave her the handsome, charismatic king of a secret sect of eye-color-changing, slow-aging people as her destined mate.
But it also made it so that king didn't want her.
And, apparently, he was a philanderer (even his brother said so!).
Somewhere in her heart at every moment she missed her mother and father.
It was only times like these when that slightly dulled ache grew and blossomed and twisted and reminded her how truly alone she was in the world.
Not that she often found, and lost, her dream man in the span of minutes.
But Sonia Arlington had lost a lot in her life.
This was just the last in long line of it.
And, unfortunately, she'd never gotten used to it.
* * * * *
Sonia was in the kitchen with Regan watching Callum arrange greenery and lights on the mantels of the fireplaces.
The Christmas decorations were Ryon's idea.
After Sonia experienced her latest life trauma, she composed herself (she hoped), came out of the bathroom and she and Regan made breakfast for what Regan called "The Boys". "The Boys", Regan informed Sonia, were Calder and Caleb, Callum's younger brothers, and Ryon, his cousin.
Regan was really nice, talky and chatty in a motherly way that was a little bit weird (okay, it was a lot weird) considering she looked like their sister.
Still, she took great pains letting Sonia know she was welcoming her into the bosom of her brood with open arms.
As they made huge, fluffy pancakes for the men, she told Sonia stories about her Momma and Papa which was the only nice thing that had happened in this mess, Regan knowing and having stories about Sonia's parents. It was something Sonia hadn't had for years and she appreciated greatly. Although Gregor was supposed to be their very best friend, he disliked talking about them and, eventually, Sonia stopped bringing them up.
When Sonia told Regan this, Regan's mouth got tight in a way that made Sonia curious.
"What?" she asked Callum's mother.
Regan slid the bacon around in the skillet with a fork and muttered, "It's justhellip;" She looked at Sonia with a carefully closed face and finished, "I've known Gregor too, for a long time. He didn't get along with my husband."
"Oh," was all Sonia said because it was obvious Regan didn't want to talk about it. As she wouldn't, considering Gregor didn't get along with her dead husband.
This was also not a surprise. Gregor didn't get along with hardly anybody.
Callum, Ryon and Calder came back and Sonia heard it before Regan did.
She also heard who she would later know was Calder mutter before they walked into the house, "This is brilliant. Fuck her tonight, you can bring her down the mountain and we can stop dicking around with this shit."
Sonia's heart twisted.
There you go. More proof she was just a kingly duty for Callum.
"Jesus, Calder," Ryon (she would recognize later) muttered back, his voice sounding annoyed.
She didn't let on she heard but strangely Regan gave Calder a look when he sauntered in with the pack. A severe motherly look that made Calder ask, "What?"
To which Regan answered, "You know what."
When Callum entered, he came directly to Sonia and curled an arm around her, bringing her body front-to-front with his.
"How you doing, honey?" he asked the top of her hair.
"Okay," she lied to his chest and hoped it sounded like the truth.
It obviously didn't because he pulled back and looked at her with searching eyes.
She didn't know what to do to hide her thoughts from those intelligent eyes so she used the only escape route available to her as she couldn't run to a car and drive to the ends of the earth. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in massive chest.
This was the right thing to do. His body relaxed but his arms tightened around her and he gave her a squeeze.
She found out during breakfast that Callum and his father before him had been protecting her since her parents died. Ryon was what they called "the lead" of Sonia's "detail".
This meant they knew practically everything about her (except her injection). They knew about Gregor, Yuri, her schooling, her friends (such as they were), her shop, her house, everything.
This explained those benign presences Sonia felt since her parents died and she felt a strange sense of relief that she finally knew what they were. However, she told herself she didn't feel a not-so-strange sense of warmth that Callum and his father had taken great pains to protect her since her parents died (but she did feel it).
Therefore, after breakfast, Ryon walked up to where Sonia was standing at the counter, scooting her pancake remains around on her plate. There were a lot of them, Regan made delicious pancakes but Sonia wasn't hungry.
He slid an arm around her shoulders, tucked her into his side and teased, "As an apology for stalking you for thirty years, I told Regan you clearly had a thing for Christmas." She looked up at him and he grinned down at her at which time she noticed he was nearly as good-looking as Callum. "Regan likes to shop, as those clothes you're wearing lay testament to." Sonia glanced at Regan in surprise and gratitude at learning Regan had supplied her wardrobe. She looked back to Ryon when he finished, "She ran out and got some decorations so you could have little bit of Christmas while you're stuck up here. They're out in the car."
This was such a nice thing to do, Sonia's mood lifted instantly and she had no idea just how much her expression brightened.
She also had no idea how much it transformed her "seriously pretty" face.
She further had no idea that Callum could see her plainly from where he was leaning at the end of the counter.
And no idea the intensity of the response Callum felt at seeing her expression.
She also didn't know that she'd never, not once, looked at Callum with her expression shining and unguarded. She didn't even cotton on when Ryon's body went solid and he stared at her like he'd never seen a female before.
"Really?" she breathed. "You did that for me?"
He jolted at her words, a slow, gorgeous smile spread on his face and he replied, "Really."
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Anything for my queen," he mumbled, his green eyes going soft.
Not knowing what to do but having been told by Callum that his people were affectionate, she gave him a little, hurried and uncomfortable hug around his middle.
To this, Ryon dropped his head and rubbed his temple along her hair.
That temple thing, she thought, must be some sort of Callum's People Gesture.
However, a split second after Ryon did it, Callum's voice cracked through the room with, "Ry, f**king hell. Seriously?"
Ryon pulled away and looked at Callum who was scowling at them.
"She's difficult to resist," Ryon replied strangely but with an open, roguish grin.
"Try harder," Callum returned, his voice flinty, clearly not finding whatever they were talking about amusing.
Ryon gave her a squeeze and let her go. Then the men went out to their SUV to get the Christmas decorations and Caleb came back.
Caleb still seemed in a surly mood but he gave Sonia a welcome to the family hug before tucking into his own pancakes.
They didn't bring a tree and all the trimmings. But they did bring boughs for the mantels, Christmas lights, pretty, playful ornaments and knickknacks of Santa Clauses, reindeers and snowmen to put in the greenery. There were also matching fun candlestick holders for the coffee table with festive, wonderful-smelling green and red candles. And last, a big, plump, snowman cookie jar that Regan told Sonia they were going to fill by baking Christmas cookies.
The women got down to baking while the men drank coffee (Calder and Ryon) or dealt with the boughs and lights (Callum and Caleb).
It didn't take long but when it was all arranged, while Regan was rolling out dough and Sonia was cutting out gingerbread men, it transformed the space to almost magical.
And baking Christmas cookies like she did with her Momma in that same kitchen so many years ago, with Christmas decorations in the house, jovial male voices and Regan's musical one mingling around her, suddenly cut deeply through Sonia.
Therefore, Sonia froze mid-gingerbread man when Callum plugged in the lights to the mantel in the living room and she didn't know she sucked in breath.
Regan heard it and her head turned to Sonia. "Sonia? Sweetheart?"
Sonia stared at the greenery on the mantel twinkling with lights and dangling with lively, lovely ornaments and she remembered her mother's decorated mantels in that very room.
"Sonia?" Regan called again but Sonia didn't move.
It was too much. All of it.
Too much to take.
"Callum, something's wrong with ndash;" Regan started but Sonia was already drawn away from the dough, the cookie cutter pulled from her hand and she was being turned toward Callum's big body.
"Little one, look at me," he demanded.
Automatically she tipped her head back to look at him.
He took one look at her face and asked, "Jesus, honey, what's the matter?"
She didn't delay in replying. "The last time I was here, my Momma's decorations were on that mantel."
She barely finished talking before she was yanked into his embrace and when his warm body surrounded her, she lost it.
She burst into loud, wracking sobs. It was embarrassing and it was weak but it was also understandable.
Her life was terrible.
It had once been perfect when her mother and father were alive. Idyllic. Wonderful. She had been protected. She had been loved. She had been told she should be proud of who she was and the gifted things she could do. And she had lived her young life knowing her Momma and Papa were proud of her and those gifts.
Since then all she had was Gregor who wasn't exactly loving, if he was always gruffly kind. And Yuri who was also gruffly kind but decided not to be her brother-type-figure but instead wanted since she turned twenty-one (and he made no bones about it) to be her lover-and-husband-type-figure.
And without anyone knowing what she could do, much less being proud, she felt she was weird.
Because of that she had to hide her gifts and therefore had no true friends who knew her down to her every secret.
She tipped her head back and wailed to Callum, "Now what do I do?"
He didn't answer likely because he wasn't in her head and didn't know what she was on about.
Instead, he picked her up cradled in his arms and carried her to a chair, arranging her body in his lap, her face in his neck then his arms tight around her.
"Well?" she demanded loudly into his neck.
"You cry it out, baby doll," he answered. "Then, together, we'll get on with it."
Easy for him to say.
He was king. He could do whatever he wanted to do.
She was queen which meant she just followed him around while he did whatever he wanted to do. Even though he didn't want her, he would, if what Caleb alluded was true, find someone he did want.
Deciding to forget they were in the room (though she didn't actually forget they were in the room), she declared, "Your family's going to think I'm a loon."
"Since they're all pretty nuts," Callum replied calmly, "you'll fit in."
She jerked her head back, glared at him and demanded to know, "What are your people going to think of me?"
His big hand came to the side of her face and his thumb rubbed away the streaming tears.
Then his eyes went to hers and he replied, "They're going to love you."
How? She thought. He was never going to love her.
She decided to use the tactic that worked at hiding her thoughts earlier and buried her face in his neck.
Then she did as he suggested and cried it out.
While she did this, she heard Regan working silently in the kitchen and the men went out the back to let her have her moment.
When she smelled gingerbread man cookies baking, she took a shaky breath, got herself under control and told Callum's neck, "I'm all right now."
His hand sifted into her hair and twisted, using it to pull her head back gently and his blue eyes scanned her face.
Then he said something in a quiet but firm voice that made her world tilt crazily.
"You've got a lot to get used to, baby doll, but I asked my family to come up here to show you that you've got family now to help you get used to it. The people in this cabin will fight and die for you. And they would never want to see you struggle, no matter what you're struggling with. Know that in our soul and never forget it."
She blinked at him (what else could she do!) and blurted, "I think your culture is very intense."
His lips tipped up in a grin and he replied in a now teasing tone, "You're learning."
It was time to move on and away from Callum who, when he was sweet (and intense and teasing) she could forget he was with her out of kingly duty.
"I want a gingerbread man cookie," she announced.
His grin turned into a smile, she hated it that she loved his smile and while she was thinking that, he replied, "Me too."
* * * * *
Sonia wandered the room in her sexy, lacy, satiny nightgown, quickly turning off lamps and blowing out the fragrant candles.
Callum was in the bathroom changing for bed. His family had left just a little while ago.
Or, she should say, he kicked his family out just a little while ago.
While she was hugging Regan good-bye, she heard Callum, who had walked with the men down the path to the SUV, speaking to his cousin.
"I see you do that again, Ry, it won't make me happy."
Ryon's voice was good-humored when he replied, "Relax, Cal."
"I'll relax knowing I'm never again going to stand in my kitchen watching my cousin mark my mate," Callum returned.
The good humor left his tone when Ryon retorted, "I said relax."
"She's your queen," Callum clipped.
"She's also Sonia," Ryon bit back. "Don't f**king forget that, brother."
Callum had no retort then again, she was just his queen to him.
Sonia didn't let on she was hearing anything and anyway, she didn't know what marking meant. She reckoned it was the temple thing but she could swear Regan heard them too. Though she couldn't, the men were muttering under their breath and definitely not close. She could swear this because Regan's mouth got a motherly tightness which she tried to hide when she smiled her final good-bye.
Callum and Sonia barely got back through the front door before he dragged her to the bathroom to give her the injection.
So that was why he threw his family out. Not because he was desperate to be alone with his mate after she'd accepted him.
Well, she figured he wouldn't want his destined by the oracles queen dying of a rare blood disorder. What would his people think?
She got under the covers and told herself she didn't feel delicious anticipation that Callum was soon to be coming out bare-chested (when she did feel it).
He came into the room moments later and she watched in what she told herself wasn't avid fascination (when it was) as he went directly to the mantel to unplug the Christmas lights.
"Don't!" she blurted and he turned to her in question. "I like to sleep with them on. Can you sleep with them on?" she finished.
"I've slept in rain and snow and mud," he told her. "I can sleep with Christmas lights on."
Why on earth was he sleeping in rain and snow and mud?
She wanted to know but she didn't ask.
She didn't ask because he came directly to bed and, unlike the two nights before where he kept his distance, he curled right into her. Spooning her body with his arm around her waist, his face went into her neck.
Her body grew stiff.
Good goodness, he wanted to have sex. Mate with her so in the eyes of his people she'd be his queen and then he could stop "dicking around" up here with her.
Holy cow.
"Relax, honey," he said into her neck, pulling her closer.
She did not think so.
"I'm really tired," she told him.
"Then sleep," he said back.
Did he think he could have sex with her while she was sleeping?
Oh good goodness!
"Actually," she said quickly, "I thought maybe we could talk."
This seemed to be perfectly all right with him because he pulled his face out of her neck, rested his head on the pillow and cuddled her closer.
He chuckled into the back of her hair and then said softly, "Baby doll, you've had another tough day. Thwarted escape, coming to terms with your destiny, meeting the in-laws, emotional breakdowns. I'm not going to come onto you after a day like that."
Well, that was a relief. It was even nice.
And, actually, sweet.
Luckily, he spoke, pulling her thoughts away from him being sweet. "Why do you want the Christmas lights on?"
"I like sleeping with them on," she told him.
"Yes, I guessed that. You had them on in your bedroom at your house too. I'm asking why?"
She shrugged, willing to talk but she'd never be willing to let him in and replied, "I just like Christmas."
He was silent a moment and then he sighed.
"We'll let that go for now."
At last, something to be thankful for. Callum, at least, was going to let her keep her own thoughts to herself.
For now.
"I'll try something else," he said.
She expressed her thanks to the cosmos too soon.
Callum went on, "You want to tell me why your entire house is clinical and pristine and not anywhere someone would want to spend time but your bedroom is the opposite?"
"My house is lovely," she retorted.
"It is," he agreed. "In a clinical, pristine, not anywhere someone would want to spend time kind of way."
Her body got stiff again. "Callum."
"But you're bedroom," he broke in. "That's a place you want to stay awhile."
She felt her pulse quicken on the thought that Callum thought her bedroom was somewhere he wanted to stay awhile.
However, he probably wanted to do it in someone else's company.
She decided to let him in just a little bit in order to get this over with.
"Gregor can behellip;" she tried to find the word, "daunting and he has a lot of opinions that he doesn't mind sharing."
"What's that got to do with your house?"
"He didn't like me buying that house so, to shut him up, I decorated it in a way he'd like," she answered. "But my bedroom is mine. It's my private space, a space where I can be who I'm meant to be."
His arm curled tighter around her belly and she felt his face in her hair.
"You can be who you're meant to be everywhere, honey. Just do it. Who gives a f**k about Gregor's opinion?"
"I do. He raised me. I owe him," she replied.
Callum's face came out of her hair and he said firmly, "You don't owe that man dick."
"I know you don't like him," she whispered, finding it bizarre in the extreme he knew so much about her and that their lives had been intermingled for so long and in different ways, none of which she knew about. "Your Mom told me your Dad didn't get along with him. But, for all this time, he was all I had. And he wasn't great at it, but I knew he tried hard and he took care of me. You might not like him, Callum, but he means something to me, he took care of me and he did the best he could."
There was silence then she felt his face burrow back into her hair and he thankfully let it go.
"Your bedroom reminds me of this cabin when I first bought it," he told her.
"I'm not surprised." She was still whispering. "I always thought of this place as home. I guess, with my bedroom, I was trying to recreate a little bit of home."
He pulled her ever deeper into his body but lifted his head to nuzzle her with his temple.
When he stopped, he muttered in her ear, "You're home now." Then he kissed her neck softly which made a happy shiver run from her neck, down her spine.
She was far from home, she knew.
She'd never be home again, she knew that too.
But, as ever, this was as good as it was going to get.
On that thought, she relaxed into him. He read her mood, stopped talking and, shortly after, with the Christmas lights twinkling, she fell asleep in Callum's arms.
Chapter Eight
Wolf
Sonia heard a strange noise like claws clicking on wood floors and her eyes opened.
She was in the cabin, the green, red and white Christmas lights twinkling from the mantel in front of her casting a cheerful glow to the dark room.
Her puppy was wandering across the room. He stopped and shook his massive body as if shaking off wet or cold. Then he started to lean back on his powerfully muscled haunches as if preparing to sit.
Or leap.
But he didn't when she whispered, "Puppy."
His body stopped its movement, he came alert and his massive head swung to face her.
This was a dream, she knew.
Her father told her that wounded or sick animals often disappeared in order to die with dignity.
Her puppy had been filled with dignity.
And she'd known, the moment he looked in her eyes that night, if he didn't have to, he'd never leave her.
But he'd been bleeding.
So when Gregor gently shook her awake that Christmas morning after her parents died and she found her puppy gone, she knew he'd stolen away in order to die.
Even if he hadn't, that was over thirty years ago. He'd been a full grown wolf then. He couldn't have survived thirty years.
Therefore, this was definitely a dream.
Sleepily, her arm fell toward him and she whispered, "Come here, handsome."
More than half asleep, her eyelids slowly lowered but she felt the thick, soft fur of his muzzle glide almost lovingly along her fingertips. It was cold and damp, as if he'd just come in from a run in the snow.
"My puppy," she sighed drowsily and moved her fingers over his muzzle to his head in a loving caress.
Eyes still closed, she finished her stroke before she tucked her hand under her cheek.
"I wish you'd bring me my handsome wolf. I miss him," she murmured as slumber started to invade.
She did wish that. Her dream Callum loved her, her. He didn't simply feel a duty to his queen and if she couldn't have him in the real world, she'd take what she could get in her dreams.
She felt the bed depress on either side of her just as she smelled an attractive, musky scent the likes of which she'd never smelled. She fought the permeating sleep and her eyes fluttered open.
Callum was there, not King Callum, her handsome wolf. He was leaned over, hands in the bed on either side of her. She knew this Callum was hers because his beautiful face in the twinkling lights showed a mixture of tenderness and desire, a look he'd given her many times before.
"There you are," she whispered, her hand drifting to his sinewy forearm, finding his skin cold under her light touch.
"Sonia," he murmured.
Still closer to asleep than awake, she shifted the covers off her body and invited, "Let's get you warm."
Her eyes drifted closed again as he hesitated then she felt him move into the bed. She fell to her back as he put a knee to her opposite side, shifted over her body and settled mostly along her length, flicking the covers back over them when he was done.
She turned into him, wrapping her arms around him and hooking her thigh over his hip.
"You're so cold," she muttered, snuggling into his body which was so cool it felt almost moist.
"Sonia."
She nuzzled closer, seduced at the same time calmed by that beautiful aroma and she muttered a drowsy, "Mm?"
His arms slid around her as he said, "Baby doll, I'm not your dream."
Sonia didn't answer because that was silly.
This was her dream. Even if it was in the cabin, it started with her puppy visiting her, always.
She burrowed deeper into his big body.
"Honey," he called as she drifted back to sleep. "I want to make sure you know we're not in one of your dreams."
"Yes we are," she told him. Sleep overcoming her, she finished on a whispered sigh, "My puppy always brings you to me."
She was nearly asleep so didn't register his body tightening.
One of her hands drifted up his back to rest between his shoulder blades. The other glided down to rest on his tight behind.
"I'm glad I'm still going to have my dreams," she muttered as she pulled his hard h*ps to hers just as she fitted her soft ones to his.
She was skating on the edge of dreamland when she felt his body shaking and his deep voice filled with amusement murmuring, "I'm glad too."
She slipped over the edge into sleep.
* * * * *
Sonia woke up in Callum's arms, hers around him, her thigh hooked on his hip.
Taking in her position, the soft bed, the cocoon of warmth they made, his hard frame, her entire body melted.
"Morning, little one."
Her head slowly tipped back and she looked into his sky blue eyes.
He was very awake and, for some reason, smiling at her.
"Morning," she mumbled, immediately lost in the clear blue of his smiling eyes.
Then her gaze drifted down and she got lost in the beauty of his smiling lips framed by his dark, thick whiskers.
Those lips moved. "This isn't a dream, baby doll."
The residue of sleep vaporized, reality intruded and her eyes snapped back to his.
"I know that," she lied.
"You didn't last night," he replied.
Sonia stared. Then the events of the night before came to her.
Holy cow!
"Umhellip;" she began, her thoughts awhirl but she stopped speaking when he rolled into her, mostly on top of her, his thigh now between hers and her thoughts focused on one thing. "Callum ndash;" she started to protest.
He cut her off, saying casually but with a smile in his voice, "I'm curious about these dreams."
Her eyes went wide before she could control her reaction and the smile in his voice hit his lips.
"You see, twice you thought you were in one and twice, when you thought you were, you came onto me," he informed her.
Oh good goodness.
She decided instantly that she didn't want to dream of him anymore. Never again. It was too confusing and it was going to get her into trouble.
She tried to slide away.
He rolled over her so he was now totally on top of her but he put his forearms into the bed beside her to take off some of his considerable weight.
Even so, he was close, his body covering hers. She could feel the hair on his chest grazing her nightgown.
Her breath started getting heavy as the realization dawned that maybe her dreams weren't going to get her into trouble.
They might already have.
To her mortification, he went on as if he was musing, "The first time you came on strong." His face came close but veered to her side. He didn't rub his temple along hers. Instead, he brushed her earlobe with his nose. "And I liked it a lot," he murmured in her ear.
"Callum ndash;" she began.
He interrupted her again, his head lifting, the tawny spikes slowly invading the blue of his eyes. "The second time, you were sleepy and sweet." His mouth descended and, against her lips, he declared, "I liked that too." Sonia watched close up as his eyes turned fully golden. "A lot," he finished.
"Callum ndash;"
"So, tell me, baby doll, what do we do in your dreams?"
It was then she realized that, yes, she was seriously, deeply, in trouble.
"Callum ndash;"
"Do we do this?" he asked, his lips leaving hers to slide across her cheek to her ear, down her jaw. She felt the shiver slither lazily along her skin as his lips came back to hers and brushed them softly.
"I think ndash;" she started, her lips moving under his.
He cut her off again. "And do we do this?"
He came off his forearms and his big, warm hands glided down her sides and in, over the small of her back and then down over her bottom as he gave her more of his weight, something which her body adored and therefore it automatically melted under his.
Oh my lord, she thought and bit her lip
Then she tried again. "Callum, can I ndash;?"
"And do we do this?" he repeated before his head slanted and his lips took hers in a sweet, light kiss.
She tried to move her head away but since it was resting on a pillow she had no room to move.
His mouth broke from hers briefly to mutter, "And this."
"Cal ndash;"
Tactical error. Opening her mouth was a very bad idea. For this time he didn't give her a sweet, light kiss.
This time, his tongue invaded her mouth and he gave her a deep, searing kiss.
Regardless of what her body was coaxing her to do, Sonia managed to resist but without room for her head to move, her hands went to his shoulders and pushed.
Callum, on the other hand, managed to insist. He ignored her hands and gave her more of his weight, cupping her bottom and pulling her h*ps deeper to his.
She felt his hardness against her and the urge instantly came over her.
Primal, animal, an urge she felt sometimes in her dreams. An urge that she had often felt budding with other lovers and they liked it which meant they were always difficult to get rid of.
This one, though, didn't bud, causing her to behave slightly shameless.
It bloomed, causing her to behave highly wanton.
It was so strong, even though she tried to fight it, even though she vaguely feared it, with Callum covering her, his hardness pressed against her, his talented tongue invading her mouth, she was no match.
With a whimper, she capitulated. Her hands stopped pushing at his shoulders and her arms curled around his neck, pulling him even closer.
Then her tongue tangled with his.
His head slanted further, he growled into her mouth and she felt it blister a path straight between her legs.
Her control annihilated and she gave into the urge.
She fully opened her legs in invitation and his h*ps fell through. She kissed him back as her h*ps lifted, pressing insistently against his hardness.
In return, he ground his h*ps against hers and another, sharper, whimper escaped her throat as her nails grazed down his back.
His mouth tore from hers but it didn't leave her skin. It went down, over her jaw, down her neck, as his hand came up, sliding along her nightgown, up her side, her ribcage, covering her breast.
Sonia arched into it, searching, demanding.
His thumb slid over her nipple and her neck bowed, the whimper turning to a deep, hungry moan.
Callum came back, buried his face in her neck, his husky voice sounding at the skin below her ear.
"You like that?" he asked, his thumb repeating the gesture and Sonia repeated the moan. "You like it," he muttered and his thumb was joined with a finger, giving her nipple a rough, glorious squeeze.
"Callum," she breathed, fire racing from nipple to between her legs, her head twisting round, her mouth searching for his.
He didn't disappoint. He gave her his mouth.
She gave him her kiss.
Planting a foot in the bed, she rolled him (and he let her) settling her body on his big one, she embarked on a frenzied discovery. The taste of his whiskered jaw, his neck, the feel of his chest under her hands. She couldn't get enough in fast enough to suit and the more she had, the hungrier she became.
He allowed this then his hand twisted in her hair with a rough demanding pull that caused a delicious pain. He forced her mouth to his and gave her his kiss. Deeper, wetter, longer and Sonia couldn't stop herself from rubbing her most sensitive part the length of his rigid shaft.
"Jesus, baby doll," he groaned against her mouth, his hands coming to her hips, grasping her nightgown. She lifted up, wanting it to be gone, needing to feel his chest against her bared br**sts.
He didn't hesitate. He yanked it off and tossed it away. His heated, tawny eyes fell to her body straddling his, his hands drifting across her ribcage and up but she dropped her chest and pressed it to his. His rough hair teased her ni**les and it felt so great, her h*ps reflexively ground into his.
His hands found her br**sts, thumbs grazing her ni**les, fingers joining for a heady roll. Then he pushed her back and up, one hand tormenting her nipple, the other cupping her breast and maneuvering her to his mouth where his lips closed over her nipple and pulled.
His mouth on her felt so good, her back arched to demand more but her head dropped down to watch him suckling as her arm flew out to the headboard to hold on.
Her body shuddered at the beauty of the sight and the sensations.
He switched br**sts and she made a harsh noise as she ground deeper into his body. His hand left her breast and plunged into her panties, finding her and it was so fantastic, she bucked against his fingers.
The minute she did, she was flying through the air, landing on her back, Callum pressed to her. His hand went back in her panties, his fingers twitching, vibrating at the exact, perfect spot.
God, she'd never felt anything like that.
And it felt good.
Her arms circled him, her nails grazed his back, her h*ps undulated against his fingers, all the while her eyes were locked to his.
Her hand moved around, across his belly, down into his pajamas and she found him.
And he was huge, thick, long and beautiful.
She had to have him.
Now.
"Wolf," she breathed her demand. "I want you inside me."
His eyes flashed and he slid a finger inside.
She gasped and ground down on his hand.
"In heat," he murmured, his voice guttural and supremely satisfied.
"Wolfhellip;" A sliver of pleading pierced her tone as his words in her dream were uttered in real life.
His finger slid out of her but only to flick insistently against her sweet spot.
"You need to be ready for me."
She knew she did. She'd felt him. He was not your average man in any sense.
"I'm ready," she whispered.
"Little one ndash;"
Her hand stroked then it fisted around him and she pulled him to her.
"Callum," she insisted, "I'm ready."
"Baby doll ndash;"
Her hand tightened, he groaned, she stroked and tugged and he groaned again.
Her mouth went to his and she demanded, "Fuck me, wolf."
Callum needed no further coaxing.
He moved and her panties were gone in a flash, whipped down her legs. His pajamas were pulled down his own.
Then he rolled into her, she wrapped her limbs around his massive body and felt the promise of him.
"Wolfhellip;" Sonia breathed.
His h*ps reared back, her body tensed in delicious anticipation and then he thrust inside, impaling her, seating himself to the root, filling her so full, so deep, she could swear he touched her womb.
He stopped and dropped his forehead to hers, his breathing labored.
In a tone filled with marvel, he murmured, "You took all of me."
She did and every inch of him was wonderful.
"I'm made for you," she whispered back and watched up close as his golden eyes glittered.
Then his mouth captured hers and he kissed her wet and hot while he f**ked her, deep, rough, fast and hard and she loved every stroke, every jolt. Her body, feeling right, feeling whole, gloried in it.
He rolled them until he was on his back, Sonia straddling him and she took over, riding him with abandon, back arched, h*ps wild.
Lost in what they were doing, lost in him, full of him.
He curled up. An arm going around her waist, taking her out of her rhythm and focusing her on the beauty that was him, his face hard with almost savage desire before she lost sight of him as he twisted his torso to the nightstand. She ground her h*ps into his and watched as he opened the drawer and pulled out a long, slim, blue, beaten-leather case. He flicked it open with his thumb and drew out a length of delicate gold chain.
He tossed the case away and his eyes came to hers.
"Sonia," his voice was rough, "are you mine?"
Lost in the moment, immediately, she replied, "I'm yours."
He made swift work of wrapping the gold chain around her waist and fastening it. She saw a small charm she couldn't make out dangling from it as it settled above her hips.
His hands spanned those h*ps and his mouth went to hers.
But his eyes were open and the gold was so intense, it seemed to be glowing and alive.
Then he said something that settled in her brain, her heart and sliced a heated path down to their connected bodies.
"Baby doll, you're about to be claimed."
Before she could utter a noise, he moved her. Pulling her off him, he tossed her to the side on her belly. He shifted to his knees between her legs and violently yanked up her h*ps so she was on her knees but her head and torso were still in the bed.
His big hands wrapped around her hips, he impaled her on his shaft, again and again. It was wild, beautiful. Her head snapped back, her hair flying over her shoulders as she came up on her hands and reared her h*ps back with greedy need into his thrusting ones.
He leaned over her and fisted his fingers in her hair, muttering huskily, "That's it."
He was right. That was it. In fact, it was everything. The whole world.
She felt it coming.
And it was so huge, she feared it.
So she fought it.
"Callum ndash;" she whispered, sudden panic in her voice.
He pulled her upright using her hair but he released it and his arms went around her, one hand slid to her breast and the one slid between her legs as he continued to plunge in and out of her.
"Give into it," he coaxed in her ear, his breathing heavy.
She continued fighting it. It was too big, huge. It would destroy her.
But it was creeping in, invading, taking over. She wasn't going to be able to hold it back.
"I can't," she breathed.
"Submit." It was a command now. He meant to be obeyed. Every movement he made demanded it.
"Callum," she whispered, frantically fighting, and losing. "It's coming."
Then it came.
Her head reared back and her body bucked as it overwhelmed her, driving through her as he drove inside her, shattering her.
He twisted her head so his mouth was on hers, taking more, draining her.
In his arms, impaled on his shaft, with his mouth on hers, everything that was him claiming everything that was her, Sonia cried out sharply against his mouth. The noise pierced the air as she shuddered uncontrollably through the longest, hardest, most luxuriously consuming cl**ax she'd ever had in her life.
At the same time Callum's arms circled her, possessing, protecting. One at her belly, one at her chest, he pressed her down as he drove up into her one last time and the guttural roar of his orgasm mingled with her piercing cry.
After, his breath thick in her ear, her own coming in slowing pants, he didn't move. Callum held her connected to him like he never wanted to let her go.
Then his hand drifted down, his fingers trailing the gold chain at her hips, he tweaked the charm that hung there, while doing so flicking his fingers against the sensitive skin at her hipbone.
Then his h*ps moved, pulling out briefly and surging back in one last time, a movement that cut through her delightfully, making her moan.
Finally, he announced, his voice husky but firm in her ear, "You're claimed."
She felt claimed, completely claimed, so claimed she felt owned.
Sonia shivered in his arms.
Those arms grew tight and he buried his face in her neck.
Before Sonia could catch a thought, he lifted her off him and set her gently on her knees in the bed but kept her held close.
Then he did something unusual. Something strange and poignant and beautiful. Something that messed with her mind and tore at her heart.
His arm around her waist moved, his hand drifting around, back, and down to cup her between her legs from behind.
Then he rubbed his palm against her.
Her h*ps bucked and she whimpered.
Then he sniffed.
She froze.
"God, baby doll," he groaned in her ear. "I wish you could smell us," he went on, his hand gliding reverently through their combined wetness seeping between her legs. "Perfect," he kept going. "Magnificent."
She could smell them.
And he was absolutely right.
He dipped low, his hand sliding up to her belly then down, over the inside of one thigh then the other, coating her.
She trembled against him.
This must be something else his people did.
It was shocking, it was intense but it was also sexy and oddly sweet.
His hand left her and his arm wrapped around her again as his mouth went back to her ear.
"That's us I bathed you with, little one. Us," he growled, the intensity of his tone proving the moment was profound. "And we'rehellip; fuckinghellip; beautiful."
"Callum ndash;" she started but didn't finish.
He fell to the bed, taking her with him and arranging her body full on top of his.
He slid his fingers into her hair and tucked her face in his neck. Leaving his hand in her hair, his other hand cupped her behind.
"You weren't blonde, honey, after that, I'd think you were one of my own," he commented, his voice clearly content.
"What?" she whispered against the skin of his neck, not processing his words. After what happened, not processing anything but the fact that she was absolutely, seriously, totally in trouble.
"There are no blondes in my culture," he explained. "And my people are passionate, far more than most humans, and they like to play." His fingers dug into her bottom. "You, obviously, like to play." His hand slid up from her bottom to wrap around her waist and give her a squeeze. "This pleases me," he muttered this last sounding pleased.
Very pleased.
Even smug.
Sonia didn't know what just happened or even how it happened or even why she let it go that far.
"Callum ndash;"
He cut her off. "Is that how it was in your dreams?"
"Umhellip; no, not quite," she answered automatically, lifting her head to look at him, trying to ignore the fact that he looked content and pleased and smug and it was a great look that did serious things to her innards and she started again, "Callum ndash;"
He lifted his head and brushed her lips with his as he gave her another squeeze with his arms.
"So what was it like in your dreams?" he asked, grinning at her.
She was so panicked, so desperate to get the conversation on track though she didn't know what that track was yet. She hoped to do some serious back pedaling even if she couldn't imagine how she'd manage that considering she was na**d in his arms and she'd just begged him to f**k her, she answered immediately, "Well, there was no gold chain and no sex and ndash;"
His brows shot up and he interrupted her again with, "No sex?"
"No, we just talk for a while and get started with, umhellip; things and then I always wake up," she replied hurriedly. "Listen ndash;"
He broke in. "Things?"
"You know, start ha**ng s*x and then I wake up," she told him then went on, "Callum, I'd like to talk ndash;"
But he wasn't listening, he was chuckling then he tucked her face into his neck again and tightened his arms.
"What's funny?" she asked his neck.
"Poor baby," he murmured, his tone low but playful. "Twenty years I've been teasing you." He rolled into her, his head came up to look at her, his hands started to glide along her skin and his voice was husky when he finished, "I've got a lot to make up for."
"Callum ndash;"
She stopped speaking when he grinned again and it was so wicked, so satisfied, so unbelievably arrogant and knowing, she could do nothing but stare.
"You called me lsquo;wolf'," he stated.
Her body went tight.
Callum kept talking or, more accurately, teasing, "Nice to know I can cut through one of your grudges with a few kisses."
At his words, she forgot everything instantly and snapped, "It was more than a few kisses and, anyway, I was not myself."
"If that wasn't you, honey, then I'll do everything I have to do to keep the Sonia I just f**ked. The Sonia who came for me so hard I thought her shrieks were going to blow out the f**king windows."
She'd been wrong two days ago.
He wasn't a big, bossy jerk.
He was an arrogant bastard.
She tried to push away, shoving at his shoulders, saying, "Of all the arrogant ndash;"
She was writhing beneath him when he cut her off, burying his face in her neck, "That's it, baby doll, fight me. This should be fun."
She growled low in her throat.
He chuckled low in his.
She bucked and pushed away.
He caught her h*ps and hauled her under him, rolling his own h*ps until she was forced to spread her legs.
She stilled, her eyes locked on his and she cried, "Get off me!"
"No, honey," he grinned at her, all haughty, arrogant king, "I'm going to get in you."
She gave his shoulders a mighty heave and his cell rang on the nightstand.
Both their heads twisted to it and both their eyes narrowed on it but for entirely different reasons.
"Fucking hell," he muttered, reaching a long arm out to nab it.
"Get off me," she demanded again as he looked at its display.
"Settle for a minute, little one," he ordered distractedly.
"Gethellip; offhellip; me!" she snapped and his eyes sliced to hers.
"Settle," he commanded, his voice a sharp, regal *****.
She settled because, apparently, King Not to Be Denied Due to Royal Birth Callum was lying between her legs.
He put his phone to his ear and said, "Callum."
Since she was close, she could hear the entire conversation.
"Cal, brother, you need to come down the mountain."
It was Calder.
"For f**k's sake, why?" Callum clipped.
"You remember what we talked about yesterday?" Calder enquired.
"Yes," Callum answered tersely.
"Well, we flipped that brother. He's talking. Talking a lot. This territory is infested. It's far more dicked up than we imagined. Mona'shellip; hell, I don't know what Mona's been doing but whatever the f**k it is, it's not her job. Someone has to deal with her and we need to start making moves or this shit is going to start traveling," Calder answered.
"How bad is it?" Callum asked.
"The scale doesn't go up to this bad," Calder replied and Sonia watched Callum close his eyes even as she saw his face set hard before he opened them when Calder kept speaking. "Pack up your mate and bring her ass down the mountain. I'm sure you'll find time to do her here. We got more important shit to see to."
Callum's eyes came to her but she stared at his shoulder angrily at the same time pretending she wasn't hearing a thing.
"The deed's done," Callum announced and it took everything Sonia had not to react to his words.
Good goodness.
Now she was a "deed" to be "done".
Well, he'd done it all right.
"Hallelujah," Calder hooted. "I knew it wouldn't take you long," he noted with deep respect before finishing, "Now, let's get to work."
"We'll be down by early afternoon," Callum returned.
"We'll have everything ready," Calder replied. "Later."
Sonia watched as Callum flipped his phone shut and his eyes went to her.
"I'm sorry, honey, we've got to cut this short and get back to the real world," he told her and, she had to give it to him, he sounded disappointed.
But she couldn't help but think how convenient all this was.
Callum (and his brothers) making it clear (several times) that his time in the cabin with her was something he considered a frustrating annoyance. In fact he, himself, referred to it as a "farce".
Callum and his brother's talk about whatever-it-was yesterday.
This morning, Callum wasted no time in seducing her, claiming her and then his brother called to say it was imperative he get back down the mountain.
Royal duty sorted, time to wage war.
"Sonia?" he called and she focused on his handsome face. "We don't have a lot of time. We need to shower and go."
"Right," she whispered, her gaze drifting away while she felt something important curl up in the region of her heart.
"Baby doll," he murmured and she looked back to him. "We'll come back. As soon as we can. All right?"
He leaned down, brushed his mouth against hers and then knifed up, taking her with him.
She started to reach for her nightgown but with his hand in hers, he tugged her around the bed (yes, naked!) heading toward the bathroom.
"Callum," she called, trying to yank away her hand. "You shower first, I'll start packing."
"We leave the clothes and food up here. I've people that see to the cabin. And we're showering together," he announced and her heart skidded to a halt as he pulled her in the bathroom, let her go and twisted immediately to the shower to turn on the taps.
"Umhellip;" she began but gulped back whatever her next words were going to be when his hands came to her h*ps and he hauled her to his body.
"I know this is a lot and I know it's fast," he stated abruptly. "But, soon, you'll be used to me, my body, the fact that I want you na**d in my bed every night and na**d in my shower every morning and na**d anytime you don't have to wear clothes. So, it's best that you start getting used to it now."
She gawked at him.
How much worse could it get?
As suddenly as he grabbed her, he let her go and stepped into the shower, clearly having no time to waste.
She stared at him, clearly having no say in the matter.
With nothing for it because, she was learning quickly, when King Callum wanted something, King Callum got it, her hands went to the chain still hanging at her h*ps and she started twirling it around to find the clasp.
"What the f**k are you doing?" Callum bit out from the shower and her head jerked up.
"I'm taking this off before I shower," she told him, her voice small in the face of his sudden anger.
He stepped right back out of the shower (getting water everywhere, incidentally), picked her up, put her in the shower and joined her, not hesitating in reaching for the shampoo.
"That's a claiming chain, Sonia," he informed her. "Once it's put on, you never take it off."
She blinked up at him as the water fell on her and asked stupidly, "What?"
He turned his attention from squirting shampoo in his big palm to her.
"It's a claiming chain. You humans have wedding rings, my people have claiming chains."
Her mouth dropped open.
She closed it.
His words repeated in her head and her mouth dropped open again.
Then she whispered, "You're saying you married me this morning?"
He barely looked at her as he pivoted her out from under the spray and put himself in her place.
"Bound you to me, yes. For life. Same thing," he replied distractedly, mind on other things, not just informing her of the usually joyous fact that that morning they'd essentially been wed.
She stood frozen and stared as he massaged the shampoo in his hair.
And she stood this way for a while.
He'd rinsed and, when he saw her standing there, his eyes narrowed.
Then he said, using a voice filled with strained patience, "Get a move on, honey. There's things to do."
She jolted out of her shocked stupor and automatically reached for her shampoo.
There were things to do.
Those things didn't include Sonia having a moment to process the fact that in three days her life had been turned on its head.
She used to have a quiet life, working in a shop she loved, living in a farmhouse amongst neighbors who were good people. It wasn't a great life. It was a lonely life. But there were moments of contentment and even happiness.
Now she was queen to an unknown people. She was the destined mate to a man she barely knew but she did know he didn't want her. And she'd just, essentially, gotten married to him.
As that thing that curled up in her heart tightened and prepared to die, Sonia commenced showering, naked, with her husband, a man she met three days before and she wasn't even certain she liked.
And she hurried through it.
Because he had things to do.
Chapter Nine
Duty
Callum pulled his SUV into the sweeping drive of The Territorial Mansion.
As he did he realized during the two and a half hour drive his mind was so focused on what was happening amongst his people, and what he had to do about it, both imminently and in the near future, he'd not said a word to Sonia.
He glanced toward her in the passenger seat and noted her eyes were studying the mansion with curiosity.
Fuck, she was pretty, sitting beside him, wearing an ice-blue thermal, a pale pink, quilted vest with a collar that framed the elegant line of her neck, a woolly pastel green scarf wrapped around that neck and dangling down the front and slightly faded jeans that rode low on her h*ps and cupped her ass brilliantly. He'd given her the tan leather, low-heeled boots his mother bought her that he'd kept outside in the truck and she'd chosen a belt that matched.
At the cabin, while he called Ryon and Caleb to brief them on what he wanted them to do prior to his arrival, he'd allowed her time to put on a light coat of makeup and dry her thick blonde hair so it fell in sleek, gleaming waves down her shoulders and back.
Examining her loveliness, the casual flair with which she wore her clothes, remembering their morning, knowing his chain hung about her hips, still hearing her heated cries and feeling her pulsating around his c**k with her uninhibited orgasm, Callum felt elated.
Today, his people were going to meet their queen.
And she was f**king perfect.
"We're here," he told her, slowing as they approached the wide-stepped entry to the mansion.
"Where'shellip;" she hesitated, still staring at the building, "here?"
"Territorial Mansion of the Western Territories of the Americas," he replied absentmindedly. Then his thoughts moved from the pleasant ones of Sonia to the unpleasant ones of what he would soon be forced to do, not knowing his words would sound preposterous to her as, to him, they did not.
He knifed out of the car and to his vague displeasure saw she'd alighted without his assistance by the time he rounded the back to her side.
He looked up to the building and saw two of his warriors standing guard.
They appeared to be standing outside chatting as the Mansion, even though it had extensive walled gardens and its function was governmental, was ensconced within the city and open for passersby to see. Humans thought it housed a large, wealthy family with a goodly number of friends though the United States Government knew differently. But humans had no idea its purpose and therefore soldiers guarding the doors would seem unusual. When amongst humans, wolves did their utmost to appear "normal" and, because of that, the men, who were guards, looked like they were having a casual chat.
Callum guided Sonia away from her opened door and closed it. Then he took her hand and led her up the stairs.
His two soldiers bowed their heads briefly to their king and queen, their eyes inquisitive on Sonia, grins on their faces.
Sonia automatically smiled back and nodded, not regally, sociably. As if she was walking down the street, caught a passerby's eye and gave them a warm, neighborly smile.
At her gesture, his warriors' grins turned to wide smiles.
Callum's hand tightened in hers.
Yes, Callum thought, his people were going to love her.
They entered the large entryway that led to a long, wide hall.
Ryon and Caleb were walking toward them. Caleb was carrying a thin, manila folder.
"All's ready," Caleb called.
"I'll want to read the briefing report before I go in," Callum replied.
Caleb nodded and he and Ryon turned and walked back a short distance toward a closed door. They opened it, stepped through and Callum and Sonia followed.
It was Mona's office, complete with baronial desk, gleaming wood floors on which large, thick, expensive Persian rugs lay, priceless antique furniture and heavy, ornate curtains at the tall, wide windows.
He saw Sonia looking around, her eyes wide taking in the opulence. Seeing what his mate saw, Callum distractedly noted with some scorn that Mona's penchant toward lavishness was evident in the government building she'd overseen creating. These were not the usual surroundings of a wolf, nothing like it.
He stopped them close to Mona's desk, leaned a hip against it, brought Sonia in close, dropped her hand and held his own out for the file which Caleb gave him.
His mother had stood by his father's side in everything. This was the queen's purpose, a physical show of support to the king as well as the demonstration of the solidarity of all wolves.
Regan had been with Mac during strategy sessions and on campaigns. Though she didn't fight, she also didn't complain when her accommodation was just a tent or two beds pushed together in a barrack with blankets strung around them for privacy. Also she had been at his side during summits, diplomatic assemblies and war tribunals.
As queen, Regan performed her duties silently. Her presence was all that was required. Her understanding of events would be important during the private times she shared with Mac. She could hardly offer him what he needed if she didn't know what was happening.
There were times of separation but they were brief and they were rare.
Sonia, Callum had decided, would do the same.
Without a word, he opened the file and began reading the report.
Then he felt Sonia move away and heard her say softly, "Hi Ryon."
He glanced up and saw Sonia lift up on her toes and press her cheek to Ryon's then she leaned back and tipped her head to smile up at him.
"Hey there, Sonia," Ryon smiled down at her in turn. "How are you handling this? It's all a bit weird, isn't it?"
"Umhellip;" she mumbled, the smile never leaving her face and the way she said her next words pointedly reflected they were an understatement, "A bit."
Ryon chuckled.
Sonia's smile brightened.
Callum's jaw tightened.
Ryon had a way with female humans, Callum knew that.
He just didn't appreciate, at all, Ryon using it with Callum's very recently, and definitely spectacularly claimed bride.
But it was something his cousin didn't hesitate doing, either yesterday or now. It was also something Sonia responded to and further, it was something Callum didn't f**king like.
Before he could say anything, Sonia turned to Caleb and said, "Hi Caleb."
She leaned into Callum's brother and gave him a cheek touch and a smile as well but it was nowhere near as fond as the one she gave Ryon.
Still, Callum noted that even Caleb was grinning down at her with a rapt expression on his face, as if bewitched.
"Hey there, sis." Caleb made a reply that caused Sonia's body to twitch.
Then she whispered wistfully, "I've never really been a lsquo;sis'."
"You are now."
Then Caleb received a bright smile from Callum's bride.
Callum felt his temper rising and because of this when he said, "Sonia," her name lashed through the room sharp and annoyed.
She started and turned to him, her eyes confused, her face growing pale.
"Come here," Callum ordered and she hesitated briefly but moved to his side.
Both Ryon and Caleb looked at him. Ryon with annoyance. Caleb, Callum was surprised to see, with barely concealed anger.
He ignored their expressions, looked down at Sonia and instructed, "The queen belongs at the king's side."
"I was three feet away," she replied quietly, her face growing even paler.
"The queen belongs at the king's side," he repeated, watched her swallow and felt the air around them growing thick, this coming from his family.
His gaze sliced through his brethren, nonverbally making his displeasure known, and he looked back down at the papers.
He read the three page report and the words erased Sonia, Ryon and Caleb from his mind.
He flipped the folder shut and looked at Ryon.
"Bloody hell, Mona's an idiot," he remarked.
"Always was," Ryon returned.
"Mac f**ked up, installing her as Governor of this Territory," Callum noted with frustration, handing the file back to Caleb.
Mac had left him with a rebellion which, in a year with studied brutality, he'd quashed, forcing their signature on a treaty they vowed never to sign and, four short years later, they broke.
Other than that, and the occasional insurrection which was normal amongst intense, temperamental and often quarrelling wolves, Mac's realm was peaceful and ordered.
There was no mess.
Except Mona.
"He thought it was a diplomatic move," Ryon replied, his eyes sliding to Sonia. "Titium was displeased with what went on." Ryon looked back at Callum. "And he'd make a formidable enemy."
Callum knew this.
During their brief fling ages ago, something which Callum engaged in regularly, a fact he thought Mona understood as every she-wolf did, she'd become infatuated with him. Because of her obsession, scraping her off had been unpleasant and eventually diplomatically sensitive.
Titium, Governor of Europe and a highly respected warrior, had spoiled his daughter. What she wanted, Titium gave her. Unfortunately, Mona was ambitious as well as obsessive. In order for her to leave his son alone, Mac had installed her as Governor of the then sparsely populated Western Territories of America.
