Horrified at her blunt subject matter but not able to stop it in spite of herself, Sonia asked, "Whathellip; words?"
Diana focused on Sonia. "Didn't King Callum say them?"
"Umhellip;" Sonia mumbled.
"Oh, I forgot, you're human," Diana said. "lsquo;Are you mine?' Those are the words. It's like your lsquo;Will you take this manhellip;', if you say lsquo;yes', it's the same as lsquo;I do'." She smiled. "But you know that last part, surely."
Sonia didn't.
Well, she kind of did.
But she didn't.
Diana continued, "And then the fun stuff starts, unlike you humans, who have to wait for the party to be over. We just go for it right away. We have the party later."
Sonia stared at her trying to hide the fact she was appalled. Did they really just run a woman down and claim her?
"I still remember every second," Diana said wistfully. "It was the most beautiful day of my life."
Apparently, they did and the women liked it.
Then it hit her that Callum hadn't done that. He'd gone against the customs of his culture and he'd tried courting her first. He wasn't very good at it and he obviously didn't like to do it but he'd tried it.
Even as king who clearly, by his behavior, felt at liberty to do pretty much anything he wanted to do, he'd tried to give her a courtship.
It was only a week he'd given her but if his people found their mates, threw them to the ground and claimed them then a week to Callum would have felt like a year of dating.
Luckily (for him), he'd only had to wait a few days.
Still, Sonia didn't know what to make of that.
Diana broke into her thoughts. "Now, tell me about yours."
"Sorry?" Sonia asked in a shocked voice. She couldn't really mean she wanted Sonia to describe her claiming.
"Tell me all about your claiming. Everything," Diana encouraged.
She did want Sonia to describe her claiming.
"Umhellip;" Sonia hedged, "it's probably like your people's average, everyday, ermhellip; claiming."
Diana burst out laughing like Sonia was an award winning comedian on a sold out tour.
When Diana gained control of herself, she wiped her eyes and coaxed, "No, seriously. We're talking about King Callum here. Everyone is going to want to know about your claiming."
Sonia hesitated before she asked, "Is it usual for the king's story to be known like this?"
Diana nodded. "Everyone knows Mac and Regan's story. But yourshellip; I figure yours will be a winner considering it's Callum we're talking about."
"What does that mean?" Sonia queried.
But she knew.
Oh did she know.
Diana opened her mouth to speak but there came a knock on the door and Kerry stuck her head through.
"Regan bought enough champagne for customers too. We're ready to pop the cork and we need the lady of honor. Come on, Sonny!"
Then her head disappeared, Diana caught her eye, smiled and stood.
With no choice, Sonia stood too. As she did, she schooled her features, buried her sorrow and prepared to pretend this was a happy occasion full of smiles, shrieks of glee and bottles of champagne.
Upon arrival, Sonia found that Regan had not bought a bottle of champagne. She'd purchased twelve of them, all chilled, and a package of plastic champagne glasses.
They were all standing in front of the counter and Mabel was preparing to pop the cork on one when the bell over the door went. Out of habit every eye (but Regan's) went to the door.
"Hohellip; myhellip; gawd," Kerry breathed.
Kerry did this because Callum was walking in, followed by Ryon, a double threat of ultra tall, dark, handsome man. Callum's eyes were on Sonia and his mouth was engaged in a aiming a sexy, intimate grin in her direction.
Sonia felt her belly twist at the same time the pulse between her legs quickened.
With everyone frozen at the counter staring at him, Callum walked through with his natural, masculine grace. He came directly to Sonia and slid an arm around her shoulders, curling her front to his.
"Hey, baby doll," he murmured when she tipped her head back and his eyes hit hers.
In harmony, Sonia heard Mabel and Kerry emit lustful sighs.
"What's happening here?" Ryon asked.
Sonia began to look around Callum but his other hand came to her neck and he recaptured her attention with his thumb at her jaw, tilting her face back to his.
Then he bent his head and touched her lips.
The pulse strengthened between her legs as her belly dipped but her brain reminded her that this was all show.
Just a show.
"We're having champagne to celebrate Callum and Sonia's weekend elopement," Regan replied and Sonia watched Callum's eyebrows go up.
"We eloped?" he asked in a low voice only she could hear.
"Apparently," Sonia whispered back.
He grinned.
Sonia stared at his mouth.
He started chuckling.
She mentally shook herself and pulled against his arm.
Callum allowed this but only so far as turning away from her front and tucking her into his side.
"Then Ryon and I are just in time," Callum announced to the group.
Kerry and Mabel were staring at him with wide eyes.
Then Mabel breathed, "You're not hot. You're dreamy."
Everyone chuckled except Sonia, Mabel and Kerry. Mabel and Kerry because they were still entranced with all that was Callum. Sonia because she didn't think anything was humorous.
"Do you play basketball?" Kerry blurted.
"No," Callum answered.
"You're flipping tall," Kerry blurted again.
"Yes," Callum agreed with a thread of amusement in his deep voice.
Sonia had to do something about this. This could go on all day.
So she said, "Kerry, Mabel, quit drooling and meet my husband. Callum, these are my girls, Kerry and Mabel." She indicated each in turn. "Girls, this is my new husband, Callum." She gestured to Callum.
Callum's fingers curled around her shoulder flexed almost convulsively and definitely fiercely each time Sonia said the word "husband". Sonia thought that was a bit overkill considering no one but Sonia could feel his fingers on her shoulder.
"Ladies," Callum greeted.
Mabel tore her eyes from Callum and looked at Sonia.
"I can see why you hid him, Sonny," she observed. "I would hide him too. Good call, keeping him to yourself until you got the ball and chain on that leg."
There was more laughter even though no one, but Sonia, knew the proverbial ball and chain was worn by the wife this time. Then they heard a champagne cork pop.
Everyone looked to Ryon who'd done the deed.
"Let's stop talking and celebrate," he declared on a boom.
"Yee ha!" Kerry shouted.
Plastic glasses were passed around, even to the five customers browsing the shop. When everyone (including the customers) had a glass and were gathered close, they all turned to Callum and Sonia.
"To the newlyweds!" Mabel cried, lifting her glass.
Everyone but Callum and Sonia followed suit and shouted in gleeful harmony, "To the newlyweds!"
Sonia wished she could disappear.
Instead, she smiled.
Callum, on the other hand, much better at playing his part in this travesty, took her chin in his fingers, gently tipped her head back and he kissed her.
It was soft and sweet but it was also long.
Long enough for laughter and catcalls to ring out and long enough for it to build from soft and sweet to something else. Something that required Callum to drop his fingers from her chin, slant his head and drag her into his arms.
She was regretfully in a daze when his mouth broke from hers and his head moved, his temple sliding against her hair.
His lips at her ear, he murmured, "To the newlyweds."
Then his arms gave her an affectionate squeeze.
The hoots, laughter and giggles surrounding her penetrated her daze and Sonia closed her eyes against the pain in her heart.
Then in Callum's ear, she whispered, "To the newlyweds."
* * * * *
Sonia sat on her bed and massaged lotion into her feet, absently listening to the voices of Callum and his men downstairs.
She was running through her day in her mind in an effort to control the panic and, if she was honest (which she was not), the expectation of what the night might bring.
While the champagne celebration went on at Clear, Callum had explained that he'd arrived because he, too, was curious about her shop.
But also, he explained, because he disliked being parted from her.
She'd been gone less than an hour and he claimed he disliked being parted from her.
Really.
He said this after he'd firmly detached them from the group in a way that appeared he wished for them to have a moment to their newlywed selves. They were far enough away so no one could overhear which meant, to Sonia's way of thinking, without an audience, he said it with no purpose at all.
But he said it like he meant it.
Maybe, she thought, he was trying to convince himself.
Or maybe her.
Or maybe both of them.
She'd struggled with how to respond then she decided to give him a hug.
This worked. His arms closed around her and he gave her another affectionate squeeze. She made a point to remember that for future reference.
He and Ryon stayed for a while then Ryon gave Callum a look, Callum sighed with resignation, touched his mouth to Sonia's and they left.
Shortly after, to Sonia's surprise, Waring arrived at Clear on the errand of loading up Regan's four bags of purchases even though Sonia lived four blocks away (and Regan and she had walked) and nothing in the bags was that heavy.
Instead of packing up the bags and whisking them away for his dowager queen, he'd had a glass of champagne, managed cheekily to chat up both the enchanted Mabel and Kerry (who were staring at him with an amazement that was almost, but not quite, how they gazed at Callum) then he loaded up Regan's bags and took them away.
That was when Sonia realized that she'd suddenly acquired a number of new names on her Christmas Gift List and asked Regan if they could go to the mall. Regan's eyes lit, she instantly pulled her cell out of her big leather designer bag, hit some buttons and said into the phone, "Caleb, Sonia and I need a ride to the mall."
Why Caleb needed this information, Sonia didn't know.
It became clear ten minutes later when a shiny SUV pulled up outside Clear. Another man who was obviously one of Callum's people collected them (to Mabel and Kerry's delight as he, too, was enormously good-looking). His name was Nikolas. He seemed a bit (but not much) older than Waring but he was far more serious and thus didn't spend any time drinking champagne or chatting up Mabel or Kerry, much to their obvious dismay.
He took them to the mall where, with Regan's guidance, Sonia bought Caleb, Calder and Ryon Christmas presents and where she and Regan had a late lunch. This included a lovely, getting-to-know-you-better conversation that, luckily, didn't include Regan asking about Sonia's claiming. But, unfortunately, didn't include Sonia having enough courage to ask Regan about Diana's open curiosity about the same. Then he took them to the grocery store where Regan bought Sonia and Callum a mountain of very unhealthy food. Then he took them back to Sonia's house.
When Sonia alighted from the SUV and walked to the back of the vehicle to grab some bags, she heard Regan call her name.
She looked at her mother-in-law who was gazing at Sonia, perplexed.
"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" Regan asked.
Sonia, having the handles of two grocery bags in her hand, looked at Regan then at Nikolas then at Regan again.
"What do you mean?" she asked in return for it was readily apparent what she was doing.
Before she knew it, Nikolas had silently rid her of her bags and Regan came forward, tucking her arm through Sonia's and guiding Sonia toward the house.
Regan's head got close and she whispered, "Sweetie, you're queen. In company, queens don't carry bags."
At Sonia's horrified expression, Regan smiled an understanding smile and tugged her closer with a pull on her arm.
"It's been so very long, I forgot how strange it all was after I'd been claimed. Mac had only been a prince then but still, the life he claimed me into was very different to the simple life I'd lived," Regan remarked and patted Sonia's arm with her other hand. "But, I promise, you'll get used to it like I did."
Sonia wasn't sure she would and as the late afternoon wore into the evening she was certain of it.
This was because, when they arrived in the house, she found that Saint, Magnum, Caleb, Ryon and Callum had been joined by Julianna, Saint's mate. Julianna was a lovely woman with a bright smile and a quiet but friendly manner. She was smaller than most of Callum's people but still slightly taller than Sonia.
After Sonia met Julianna, while Nikolas carried in all their purchases, Callum claimed her, situating her in his lap and taking a moment to ask about her day.
While he did this, and she answered his quiet questions, Julianna put the groceries away in Sonia's kitchen.
Listening to Julianna move around in her kitchen, Sonia noticed Regan settle herself with a book on one of the couches in the living room while Nikolas built a fire.
And something about all of this didn't sit quite right with Sonia.
"Umhellip;" she started and turned her eyes to Callum, "maybe I should help Julianna."
Callum's brows went up then his smile grew wide.
Then he said something that caused her temper to rise and her palms to itch.
"Baby doll, when no one's around, your job is to take care of me." She stared at him (as this was the point where her temper started rising and her palms started itching) and he continued, "But when someone's around, their job is to take care of us."
Seriously?
He might be king buthellip;
Seriously?
He continued, "Saint called Julianna here to do that. It's her duty. She'd be offended if you went in and helped."
Sonia decided to keep on the subject she wanted to discuss.
"My job is to take care of you?"
He grinned. "I thought I explained that."
He had.
He had just not done it thoroughly.
"How, precisely and in all the varied forms, am I required to do that?"
His grin turned positively wolfish.
"I'm guessing you understand the most important part."
"Indeed," she rejoined with irritation and he chuckled before continuing.
"The other parts include you cooking for me, caring for our home, our clothes, if there's no one around to do it. Understanding my schedule and providing for it, Making certain I have what I need or want available to me so when ndash;"
"So," she broke in, "in other words, I'm to be your little wife?"
His best answer to that question was "no".
Instead, being Callum, his eyes, for some reason beginning to change to golden, he replied, "Yes."
"Did your people skip past the twentieth century?" Sonia enquired with sarcasm.
The gold obliterated the blue not, she sensed, due to anger but, she instinctively knew, with something else. Something that made that ever-present throb between her legs deepen and his face dipped close. "Baby doll, I'd really like to give you the opportunity to work out your anger right now but, regrettably, I've got things to do."
She stared then glared then asked, "What does that mean?"
She asked it, but she really didn't want to know.
However, he told her.
His face dipped even closer, veering to the left at the last minute, he said in her ear, "That means, you want rough play and I want to give it to you. But I'll have to give it to you later."
She wanted rough play? What on earth was he talking about?
She didn't have the chance to ask, not that she wanted the answer to that question either.
Giving her a "we're done talking about this" squeeze, Callum dismissed her, turned his attention to the copious papers and files on her dining room table and the laptop pointed in his direction.
Regardless of his inattention to her, he still kept Sonia pinned to his lap.
And he did this for a good long while.
He did this while they ate dinner. A dinner which Julianna cooked in Sonia's kitchen and served in Sonia's dining room on Sonia's plates, using Sonia's cutlery and glasses and cleaned up after, again in Sonia's kitchen.
And he did this while the men talked, not only about the rebellion, the intelligence they were currently in the process of gathering and the strategy they were forming to quell it but about all things kingdom. What was happening in other regions. Saint's takeover and eventual clean up of the Western Territories. Invitations to official ceremonies and which ones Callum would take (none of them) and who would go in his stead (mostly Regan but also, surprisingly, once the rebellion was crushed, Ryon).
It was, she hated to admit, fascinating, this whole secret world that was obviously thriving but completely unknown amongst her world.
What was more fascinating was Callum's intense interest in all of it. Sonia had the sense that he didn't rule with a heavy hand but he certainly liked to have his finger on the pulse of absolutely everything. He was interested in what his people were doing, making sure that they were living peaceful, prosperous lives and he took his role as their leader very seriously.
Callum interrupted the proceedings only once, to guide Sonia upstairs with his hand firm in hers in order to take her to the bathroom to administer her injection. And this he did with now practiced ease, quickly but, as usual, she emerged from the burn snug in the circle of his arms and, if Sonia still had her scales, this would definitely be on the good side.
Regan left with a hearty good-bye and warm smile to Sonia.
Julianna who had, when she was not serving them, to Sonia's disgust, sat completely quiet in Saint's lap, left with Saint on a quiet farewell and a shy smile at Sonia.
The night wore on, Sonia sitting in Callum's lap, Callum seeming not to know she was there but doing things intermittently and unconsciously that made that damnable throb ache. Like fiddling with the charm on her claiming chain or occasionally drawing lazy circles with the tips of his long fingers at her hip.
Finally, when another man arrived (his name was Bodim), carrying large, scrolled up pieces of papers which, she saw when he spread them out on her table, were maps of the Western Territories with lots of markings on them, Callum's attention turned back to her.
Mouth again at her ear and voice lowered, he ordered, "Go to bed, little one."
His ordering her to go to bed, she thought, was bad.
Escape, she knew, was good.
She instantly made a move to slip off his lap but his hand tightened, stalling her progress.
His voice a barely audible murmur, he went on to command, "Don't wear anything to bed. I want you na**d when I join you."
She pressed her lips together, ignored the pulse that shot from the juncture of her legs straight to her ni**les and met the sexy serious look in his eyes (or seriously sexy look, she still didn't know which).
Without a word, Sonia slid from his lap and called her goodnights then she went upstairs and did exactly what she wanted to do.
This was investigating her catalogues and trawling the internet to find Regan's gift. She couldn't buy Regan a gift with Regan actually there, but she needed to buy Regan a gift. It was, indeed, Christmas and Regan was her mother-in-law.
She got distracted while online shopping for Regan and swerved down the road of shopping for Callum. She told herself this was because it was her queenly duty to buy her king Christmas gifts. But it really wasn't. He looked good in clothes and she found she enjoyed buying them for him. So much so, she searched for evidence of his size (and found his clothes hung in her closet, his toiletries put tidily away in her bathroom and noted Julianna had been busy) and in the end maybe went a bit overboard.
She eventually finished buying presents for all the new entries on her Christmas List, even Julianna and Diana, both of whom she found she liked tremendously, though she couldn't quite say why. She wrapped the ones she purchased for Callum's family that day and headed to bed.
She put on her nightgown and left on her panties, defying Callum's order to be naked. Firstly, because she didn't like sleeping naked, though she didn't mind it last night. Then again, she slept the sleep of abandoned contentment. Secondly, because she may be his queen and her duties may be extensive but he gosh darn couldn't tell her what to wear, especially not to bed. No, strike that, he couldn't tell her what to wear anytime.
She finished lotioning and oiling her face, feet, hands and cuticles. And, with the hum of deep, male voices plotting in her dining room (something Sonia vaguely recognized that was tremendously weird but she had had a lot of weird recently and now it didn't even penetrate), Sonia switched off her light. She cuddled her stuffed wolf and stared at her tree.
And she came to the realization, as the hum of voices and the twinkling of the lights lulled away her panic (and expectation), that she'd drifted through her thirty-seven years of life in a fog.
Losing her parents so young, knowing in an integral way she was more than a little bit strange and, if people knew the things she could do, they might even fear her, Sonia had never thought to dream.
Considering she had to hide her gifts from everyone, she never fantasized about who her husband would be, what their life would be like, how many children she'd have, because how would she go about living that kind of lie?
Therefore, she never considered living with another person and deciding who would do the cooking and who would take out the trash. She never thought about how she and her partner would argue and how they would make up. Where they'd go on vacation. If she'd get impatient with him watching too many sports on TV and if he'd get impatient because it took her too long to get ready. She never pictured a time when, together, they brought out the boxes of Christmas decorations and littered the house with them. Year by year adding precious memories, purchasing new ornaments to put on their tree and sharing moments that would be cherished.
She'd bought her white-picket fence farmhouse knowing she'd be the only one living in it and shrouding her disappointment that she was fated to live her life alone.
But now, she thought sleepily, having dreamed of Callum so long (an indication of her destiny before she even knew it was her destiny), she realized she did have fantasies of what her life would be like. They were as unobtainable as her dream Callum was (she thought then and she still did). But the feelings she had with Callum in those dreams, that was what she would have wanted to nurture in her real life, if it had been possible.
Not this.
Never this.
She took in a breath and let it out in one long, sad sigh, closed her eyes, clutched her wolf close and fell asleep.
* * * * *
She awoke with Callum's mouth between her legs over her panties, the urge already upon her, overwhelming her, wresting away her control.
She fought it with her mind but, even as she did, her h*ps pressed up to meet his mouth as she emitted a low whimper and the throb between her legs started to devour her.
Callum's mouth lifted away but his finger replaced it, drifting light as a feather against the fabric of her panties, causing a sensual torment.
"I thought I told you to go to bed naked," Callum's deep voice vibrated between her legs and she whimpered again. Her hands going to his hair to press him back. Her h*ps pushing against the light touch of his finger. Her ni**les, already hard, straining against the fabric of her nightgown causing such pleasure, it was torture.
"You defy me?" he asked, still denying her his mouth.
"Callum," she whispered.
"Answer me," he commanded and she pressed up again, seeking his mouth, keeping her silence, the Sonia she knew trying to beat back the Sonia that he created.
And failing.
He shifted her underwear aside and two fingers penetrated her, not gently, brutally, and she moaned at the beauty of it, needing it, wanting it, having throbbed for it all day.
"Answer me, Sonia," he demanded.
"Ihellip;" she whimpered and for a brief moment the Sonia she'd been her whole life surfaced, breaking through the urge. "You can't tell me what to wear."
His fingers slid out then they thrust back in and she moaned, the urge rushed back, stronger than before and she lifted her h*ps to meet them.
"My queen likes to play rough," he growled, sounding pleased.
"No, I ndash;" she began but his fingers pulled out and hooked at the gusset of her panties. With a vicious wrench, the fabric tore in several places and the panties were gone.
She gasped but his big hands slid along her inner thighs, gripping her behind her knees, lifting them to fully bent and spreading her legs wide, boldly exposing her.
Sonia felt vulnerable for a moment before his mouth came down on her and all feelings evaporated except the exquisite pulse accelerating between her legs.
He wasn't gentle with his mouth either. He was hungry, insatiable, feeding on her with his lips, his tongue, even his teeth, causing Sonia to lose any hold she had left on her true self as her body forced her to give into the urge.
She was panting, rocking her h*ps against his mouth, spreading her legs ever wider to give him access. Greedy for him, for what he could make her feel, reaching out and embracing the creature he could make her be. The creature, something buried inside her told her, she was meant to be.
She slid close to the edge, no longer scared of the enormity of it, ready to let it take her, needing for it to consume her so she could exist in her skin the way she was intended to. The way she only did in these times with Callum. She cried out and, the instant she did, his mouth disappeared and she was yanked from the edge.
"Callum!" she exclaimed her protest but he wasn't leaving her.
He was over her, his weight settling into her and she gloried in it. Feeling the promise of him a scant second before he reared his h*ps back and impaled her, f**king her like she loved it, slamming into her violently, filling her full, again and again and again.
His mouth captured hers and he gave her a devouring kiss, his tongue invading as his shaft drove mercilessly into her.
She wrapped her limbs around him and lifted her h*ps to meet his. Welcoming him. Taking him all the way in and loving the feel of him filling her full so much, she moaned recklessly against his tongue.
He pulled out and flipped her to her belly, yanking her up to her knees.
"Yes," she gasped.
This was it. This was right. This was who she was. This was who they were, Sonia and Callum.
Perfect.
Positioning himself between her legs, Callum leaned forward and gripped her hair, using it to yank her up to her hands.
She felt it then, the sensation that this was exactly Sonia. The Sonia she was supposed to be, in front of Callum on her hands and knees.
She held her breath and felt her thighs quiver in sweet anticipation, arching her back, tilting her behind, offering her sex to him brazenly.
He accepted her invitation and seated himself to the root as he yanked her hair back, arching her neck. But he needn't have done it for she threw her head back at the splendor of him.
Then he did it again.
And again.
And again.
She reared into his hips, greeting every plunge, feeling finally whole, finally right when she took him all.
The tension built and built until her blood was boiling. Until she felt she was going to come out of her skin. Until she cried out to her wolf and exploded in sheer bliss. Through her cl**ax she felt him impale her one last time and heard, as if from far away, the depth of his answering groan.
Just as last night, after, he rocked inside her, his shaft stroking her sex gently as his fingers drifted over the skin of her bottom, the small of her back, hooking her chain and tugging until it caught on her hips. This action of Callum's, last night and just then, she felt was profound. The reminder of the chain that signified she was finally his, just as she was always destined to be.
He twisted it so the links slid around her waist, the lightest of sensations making her shiver against him.
Then, his strokes coming slower and slower, finally he started to pull away.
"No," she whispered, pressing her h*ps back.
He stilled, thankfully still hard and staying inside. She'd never known a man to stay rock-hard that long afterwards.
"Baby doll?" he called.
She answered his call, using her mouth and her hips, still pressing into him, explaining her need. "I don't want to lose you."
He glided out and then back in one last time while murmuring, "My little one."
Then his h*ps forced her off her knees and her legs, of their own accord, opened wide so he could settle between them, his body both surrounding her and filling her deep.
His fingers moved the hair away from her face before he rested some his weight into his forearms in the bed at her sides, the rest of it settled into her.
She loved how big he was, his body, his shaft, how it surrounded her, filled her, became her whole world. It melted away her ever-present loneliness, making her feel, with Callum encasing her in his frame, filling her so deep, she'd never be lonesome again.
She tipped her bottom up into his groin, non-verbal indication of the intensity of her thoughts.
He pressed in deeper, giving her more of what she was seeking, filling her even fuller.
"You like this," he said softly in her ear.
It wasn't a question, it was a statement. There was an element of surprise but the low rumble of his voice revealed the depth of his approval.
Sonia didn't answer.
He pushed in further and she sighed contentedly.
She felt his smile against her ear.
"I like it too," he whispered. "It's everything we are." He slid out a bare inch then settled back in. "The connection, our connection, so f**king strong." There was a depth in his voice that slithered lazily through her system and then settled there in a way that felt like forever. He went on, "And it's everything I am to you." His arms moved in tighter at her sides. "Your protector," he ran his lips around the curve of her ear and she trembled underneath him before he murmured, "lift your ass for me, little one, I want to go deep," without hesitation, Sonia did as she was told and Callum did what he wanted, muttering, "and I'm also your possessor."
She shivered in delight at this last and his arms tightened all the more.
Her arms were cocked and under her body, pinned to the bed, but she reached out a hand, laced her fingers in his and tilted her head until her nose was resting against their hands.
She tipped her h*ps up again and mumbled, "For me, wolf, I just like to be full of you. It makes me feel whole. It, finally, makes me feel right."
She missed his answering growl because it was then Queen Sonia slid into an abandoned sleep. Surrounded, connected, protected, possessed, contented and beautifully full of her king.
* * * * *
Sonia's sleeping body was shifted, the nightgown pulled up. Her arms, unresisting, rising to make this task easy and the nightgown was swept away.
Then she was curled, pulled close, a strong arm circling her waist, molding her body down the side of Callum's hard one.
She rested her cheek against his pectoral and snaked an arm around his flat stomach.
She started to shift into sleep as he murmured, "The days, I can forget, baby doll. But the nightshellip;" his voice dropped to a hoarse growl, filled with intense feeling, "the nights will be torture knowing I won't have this for eternity."
Even if she was conscious enough to process his words, she wouldn't have understood them.
However, she wasn't conscious enough for he'd barely uttered his last word before she was asleep.
* * * * *
Soft and fleeting, the touch of fingers trailing the pinpricks on her upper bu**ocks drifted. The same when the fingers became lips, something about them Sonia couldn't hold onto but it felt as if the touch yearned to be healing.
Then Sonia was being lifted.
Then she was cradled in the warm cocoon of Callum sitting, back to the headboard, fully-clothed, in her bed.
Still half asleep in his arms, she nuzzled closer, burying her face in his neck.
His fingers invaded between her legs, toying, playing.
"The men are here."
"Mm," she replied, pressing into his hand, seeking even in her sleep.
"Sonia?" he called.
"Play with me before you go," she urged.
His arm about her tightened, his neck twisted and she felt his lips at her temple and then Callum did as she asked.
When she was finished, he lifted her again, settled her in bed and tucked her stuffed wolf in her arms.
Mostly asleep, she drifted further into sated oblivion.
Her eyes fluttered but remained closed when his lips glided along the curve of her ear, at the same time his hand went between her legs from behind and his fingers entered her again.
She lifted her bottom in reflexive invitation.
His fingers slid out, gliding lazily through the folds of her wetness, his mouth still at her ear, his voice husky when he stated admiringly, "Always in heat, my greedy, little queen."
Then his hand disappeared, her h*ps settled and Sonia clutched her wolf closer as Callum tucked her tight in the bedclothes and she drifted off to sleep.
* * * * *
And this was to be the rhythm of Sonia's life for a while.
Nights (and often during the days besides) being forced by the irresistible urge to "play" as she learned Callum called it. Sometimes rough, sometimes sweet but always ending up devoured by it. And, often in the nights, desperate to keep him close, to feel whole, sliding off her knees, Callum still inside, and falling asleep with his weight surrounding her, him filling her.
Mornings were spent cocooned in his arms as Callum gave her more of what her body craved and left her tucked safe in her bed in a way her mind wished it could truly be.
All of this leaving her feeling pampered, desired, protected and adored.
* * * * *
But Sonia spent her days steadfastly guarding her heart against a king who apparently wanted his queen to believe she was much desired, much adored, definitely pampered and even cherished.
Which meant that Sonia had to guard her heart with a growing ferocity that, the longer she did it, the more the bitterness built.
Chapter Thirteen
Party
"Callum, this is Jay and Jo, my neighbors from down the street, and their boys Jed and Jake," Sonia introduced Callum to the family who'd just arrived at her Christmas Party. "Guys, I'd like you to meet my new husband, Callum."
Callum heard Jo gasp and saw Jay's eyes grow wide in shock and this was about the same reaction as everyone had when they met him.
His fingers, resting at Sonia's hip, tensed reflexively.
Even though it was a human word that meant little to him as it meant little to many humans, he f**king loved it when Sonia called him "husband".
And tonight she'd been doing that a great deal.
The family recovered from their surprise and the man thrust his hand out to shake Callum's.
"We're the lsquo;J' family," he announced. Then, strangely, to Callum's way of thinking (but many things humans did Callum thought were strange), removed himself from the family legacy his wife clearly created by declaring with practiced embarrassment. "It was Jo's idea."
Callum's eyes went to Jo. "It's a good idea. My mother had the same. My brothers' names are Calder, Caleb and Calvin."
Sonia's body stiffened beside him which he completely ignored. She did this often for reasons sometimes unknown, sometimes she'd tell him. He had decided in the three weeks he'd known her that if it was important, she'd tell him which she didn't have the least problem doing. The other times weren't worth concerning himself with.
"You're the lsquo;Cal' family," Jo declared brightly, giving her husband an annoyed nudge with her elbow.
"We are," Callum stated proudly.
"Jed, Jake, your presents are under the tree," Sonia said, her eyes fond on the two young lads. "Go and ndash;"
She didn't finish. The boys raced to the tree, both of them ending their dash dropping to their knees on a skid.
"They love your presents best every year," Jo confided and Callum turned back to see she'd leaned toward Sonia. "It's giving me a complex," she added jokingly.
That night Callum learned many people loved Sonia's presents best every year. Indeed that night Callum learned Sonia gave everyone presents they loved best every year. He'd never seen anything like her casual generosity.
Another in a myriad of ways he'd found in the three weeks he'd had his queen that she was absolutely, f**king perfect.
"Um, it wasn't my skateboards I saw them racing each other on, fruitlessly I might add, through the snow on the sidewalks on Christmas day last year," Sonia replied on a smile.
"So!" Jay boomed, butting into the women's conversation and glancing between the two of them. "This is unexpected, though we've seen a lot of activity at your house lately," Jay informed them, eyes speculative, declaring openly his neighborly prying, something else humans did that mystified Callum. Wolves let other wolves be. If they wanted to share, which they usually did, they'd share. Uninvited inquisitiveness might get your throat torn out by another wolf's teeth, a strong deterrent. "Married!" Jay continued. "That's a big surprise. How did you two meet?"
Sonia tensed and opened her mouth to reply but, as usual that night, Callum got there before her.
"We didn't meet. I saw her and thought she was the prettiest woman I'd ever laid eyes on. I grabbed her, carried her up to my cabin in the mountains and spent three days talking her into marrying me. She agreed, we did the deed and came back down the mountain."
Callum liked this story.
He liked it because of the hilarious reactions of the humans.
"Youhellip; what?" Jay asked while Jo blinked at him, repeatedly and rapidly.
"He's joking!" Sonia exclaimed, going directly into damage control, as usual that night after he told this tale, leaning into him and patting his stomach. Now her pats were much harder than they were at the beginning of the evening but they were still puny, as female human pats tended to be. Or likely male ones, for that matter, though Callum had never been patted by a male, nor would he ever be. "We've known each other forever," she went on. "It almost feels like we knew each other since before we were born. I met him when I was seventeen. It's been an off and on, long-distance relationship. I never knew it would come to this but when he surprisingly asked me, I said yes right away. We decided not to waste any more time so we eloped."
Callum liked Sonia's story better.
What he liked best of all was that they were both, mostly, true.
Suddenly, Jo's eyes bugged out, she leaned forward and grasped Sonia's hand.
This party was not in the least like a party a wolf would throw. For one thing, no one had shown up smashed. For another thing, even though it started an hour ago, still no one was smashed. That said, he was enjoying himself immensely, mainly due to being with Sonia who was taking great pleasure in entertaining her friends and being with the people who clearly cared about her.
However, he was having more than a little difficulty with humans, female and male, touching his mate. The wolf's protective instinct of their mate was naturally strong. Callum's protective instinct for his queen was stronger. Callum's protective instinct for Sonia was immeasurable. You didn't approach a wolf's mate without permission, certainly not if you were a stranger to that wolf and you definitely didn't touch her.
Even so, tonight amongst Sonia's people, he couldn't give in to the instinct. If he had, her beautifully clinical living room would be littered with unconscious bodies.
"My God!" Jo cried. "Your ring is gorgeous!"
"Oh Lord," Jay told the ceiling as his eyes had rolled there. "Here we go."
Jo examined Sonia's ring closer, not taking her eyes from it but still managed to bicker. "Well it is, Jay," she yanked Sonia's hand toward her husband, "look at it."
Jay didn't look at Sonia's ring.
He turned aggrieved eyes to Callum, seeking male camaraderie. "She's always on me to buy her a bigger ring."
He didn't find his camaraderie as Callum replied abruptly, "So do it."
It was Jay's turn to blink, Sonia's turn to stiffen but Jo burst out laughing.
"I like him," she said to Sonia, releasing Sonia's hand and jerking her head at Callum. "If I didn't like all that was him," she boldly gestured to Callum from top-to-toe, "then I'd like his accent. If I didn't like that then I'd still like him."
Sonia relaxed and smiled at Jo, as did Callum, deciding that he also liked Jo.
"If you want to make nice with the men in the neighborhood," Jay advised with forced joviality, "you might want to take a little care."
"It's highly unlikely Sonia and I will be settling here," Callum announced.
Sonia went rock-solid at his side and Jed and Jake, who were rushing up to them with their unwrapped presents in their hands, skidded to a halt and the cheerful expressions on their faces melted.
"Sonny's moving?" Jed, or Jake, Callum didn't know which was which, whispered.
"We haven't decided yet," Sonia said swiftly with a radiant smile at the boy and quickly changed subjects. "So, what do you think? Do you like them?"
The boys, as children do, human or wolf, immediately remembered their presents. Their faces lit and Jake (or Jed), shouted, "They're awesome!"
Then both boys ran forward and gave her awkward yet genuine hugs which forced Callum to release her.
This he didn't mind. Children were no threat.
Further, he liked watching Sonia's relaxed, innate affection for the boys. Something which he hoped, very soon, he'd be witnessing between her and their own children.
"I'm hungry," Jay announced and then made another try at friendly discourse with Callum. "Sonia always puts on the best spread."
This, to Callum's way of thinking, wasn't true. Although there was a good deal of food and every bite-sized item he had tasted was appetizing, there wasn't enough meat, there wasn't enough cheese and there wasn't a single thing that required a knife and fork. Most people took a small, white, china plate and a napkin and saw them through.
The minute Callum had seen the caterers laying out the fare, he'd been alarmed. Although no one but the other wolves in attendance had his reaction.
Wolves did not do finger food.
"You'll undoubtedly not be disappointed this year," Callum told Jay with truthfulness.
"Go in, help yourselves." Sonia invited, giving Jed (or Jake) a playful cuff on the head and Jake (or Jed) a teasing shove on the shoulder as they walked toward the dining room table.
Then she seemed to be moving away from him, which Callum didn't like so he hooked an arm around her waist and curled her front to front. Her eyes lifted to his and he knew she was pissed.
He grinned.
Callum even liked it when she was angry. He was pleased his queen had spirit and fire. Immensely pleased.
Her gaze narrowed on his grin and when her eyes came back to his she irately commanded, "Would you stop telling that story?"
"No," he calmly replied.
She growled low in her throat.
Callum chuckled low in his.
Then she suddenly asked, "Who's Calvin?"
He felt the pain slash through his gut, his arm tightened convulsively around her and his grin died.
"My brother," he replied tersely.
At his instantaneous reaction, sweet Sonia's eyes were no longer narrowed but searching.
Then, her voice much softer, she enquired, "Brother?"
"Died. In battle. Years ago." His words were short and curt and he didn't try to gentle them because this effort would be impossible.
Her body jerked lightly in his arm then it, too, went soft and settled against his.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
He was too, more than he could say.
Callum didn't reply.
"I shouldn't have asked but I was surprised. You'd never mentioned him," she told him.
"He was the youngest of us, we didn't protect him. It's not a subject we discuss."
He felt her heave a fluttering, little sigh and she lifted a hand and curled her fingers around his neck, murmuring, "Callum."
He wished he'd had her years ago when Calvin fell. That sweet sigh, the touch at his neck, the feel of her yielding body pressed to his, the murmur of his name would have gone far in soothing the grief. He knew this because it was something it did now.
He gave her waist a squeeze and informed her, "It was years ago."
"It's still fresh," she said softly.
"It'll always be fresh," Callum replied, his voice no longer clipped but quiet. "He was my brother."
She slowly closed her eyes.
Then she wrapped her arms around him, pressed her cheek to his chest and held him close.
He closed his eyes and marked the crown of her head with his temple, pulling her even closer.
He opened his eyes and saw they had a mixed human and wolf audience, all of whom were watching either avidly (the wolves) or covertly (the humans) and the fact made him exceedingly pleased.
One of her shop girls, he was thinking Kerry (or Mabel, he was too focused on Sonia calling him husband for the first time to pay much attention when they were introduced) approached.
"Umhellip;" she began tentatively. "Sonny? The caterer wants to talk to you. Something about salmon in puff pastry? She sounded like it was urgent." The girl's mischievous eyes went to Callum and Sonia turned in his arms to face the newcomer as she remarked, "Though, urgent and puff pastry to me don't go together."
He couldn't agree more with her statement and Callum decided he liked this girl. You could see it in the light of her eyes, the fullness of her smile, the depth of her laughter and the loving way she gazed at Sonia ndash; she fed on life, like a wolf.
Sonia detached from Callum and mumbled, "Thanks, Kerry. I better go see what that's about." She walked away with a distracted smile in his and Kerry's direction, muttering, "I didn't even order salmon in puff pastry."
Kerry's eyes tipped up to him and she grinned.
Then her grin grew hard and she said, "I know you're a big guy and you could probably break me in two." This, Callum thought, though she couldn't know, was exactly true. "But make her happy, will you? I don't know why, though considering your story she was probably waiting for you to stop dicking around," she informed him baldly (and courageously). "But she's been alone a long time. She deserves to be happy. In fact, I don't know if I know anyone who deserves it more."
She gave him a look that clearly said she would not be happy if he didn't do as she asked, even though she knew her displeasure would be lost on him.
Yes, Callum decided, he liked her a great deal.
She tilted her head to the side, the seriousness going out of her eyes, the hardness going away from her mouth, and announced, "One thing I can say for you, you convinced Sonny to have beer. Always wine and champagne and cocktails. A girl needs a beer. Which I'm getting right now. You need one?"
Callum shook his head but grinned at her.
Then, with another bright smile, she wandered off while Callum thought that he didn't like her a great deal. He seriously f**king liked her.
He noticed Sonia rounding the dining room table and decided for perhaps the fiftieth time that night he liked what she was wearing. A skintight, winter white turtleneck that had opalescent beading around the shoulders and down the chest which gave the impression of sparkling snow. She'd paired this with a matching, slim skirt that came to her knees and cupped her ass so perfectly, it had to be made for her. She was wearing outrageously sexy, high, stiletto-heeled, gray snakeskin pumps. She had her hair loose in a sleek fall past her shoulders and down her back but a pretty, wide, velvet ribbon was threaded through it, holding the thick locks away from her face.
She looked like a sophisticated snow angel.
His claiming chain hung outside her skirt (she always wore it visible, at his command) and her wedding rings sparkled on her finger. Both of which, even the rings, being his, Callum felt a fierce pride that she, Sonia, his mate, his queen, dressed in that f**king sexy outfit, was displaying for all her friends and his family to see.
The minute he saw her emerge down the stairs earlier that evening, he'd decided to try to find some way to f**k her with that skirt on.
If that failed, he was definitely f**king her while she was wearing those boots.
He knew every man in this room would envy him that opportunity.
And he f**king loved that.
She stopped at the outer end of the table and was talking with one of the women who came to cater her party. The woman was gesticulating wildly and Sonia was looking at the table in charming bafflement as Caleb slid up beside him.
"Stop flirting with Sonia's shop girls, brother," Caleb muttered jokingly and Callum watched, his eyes instantly narrowing and his body immediately alert, as Sonia's shoulders shrugged slightly up.
It was a fleeting, sparse movement but it was there and further, her head had slanted with a nearly imperceptible jerk, moving her ear to point toward where Callum and Caleb were standing.
"Cal?" Caleb called.
"Quiet," Callum ordered, his enjoyment of the evening eroding.
Sonia had these kind of reactions and often. Callum started noticing it the day after their first full day and night in this house. A human might not notice but Callum definitely did.
Callum and Caleb were standing across the expanse of the wide living room, well away from the dining room table. Even without the distance, there was soft Christmas music playing, numerous people in the room creating a loud buzz of conversation and Caleb had muttered his joke under his breath.
But Callum would bet his immortal life she could f**king hear it.
And now, with her ear pointed toward them, she was listening.
It wasn't just her heightened sense of hearing, it was more.
For instance, when they played, it didn't happen often, but she'd run her nose along the skin of his neck or the whiskers on his jaw. Once he'd even heard and felt her taking in the scent of his hair.
Female humans didn't do that, not any that he'd met.
She-wolves, however, like wolves, did it all the time, during play or just affectionately with their mate. Your mate or partner's scent was a massive aphrodisiac but it was another way your senses recognized a loved one. It was one of the reasons their mingled essence between her legs was so important. It was part of the claiming ritual for the male to coat the female with it, spreading their intermingled scent, a physical representation of their connection, to mark his territory after the claiming.
Further, he'd also noticed on more than one occasion Sonia tilting her head or making a face when she'd smelled something pleasant or unpleasant. Something Callum also smelled but not something any human would sense.
She had exceptional eyesight as well, something he noticed when she was sitting beside him while he was driving and she drew in a sharp, barely audible breath when a car skidded on a patch of ice in front of them. The car, however, was far ahead. A wolf could see it, but a human? Not in his experience.
And there was the way that she liked to play. She certainly responded to him when he was gentle with her but she came alive when he was rough. He'd never, not once in his experience, knew a human to get off the way Sonia did with Callum. He was careful to make certain all his partners enjoyed his play but the depth of her craving, the intensity of her participation and her cl**axes were unreal for a human, if not a wolf.
He'd put that down to their connection but now, he was questioning it.
Because she was still human.
Lastly, the way they fell asleep most nights, from the first night after the claiming.
It was common practice for wolves, especially wolf mates, to sleep while their bodies were connected. The male on top, the female on top, spooned or the way Sonia liked to be connected to Callum, with Callum over her and Sonia on her belly.
It was just the wolves' way.
The first time he'd done it, he'd been so lost in the experience they'd shared, he hadn't thought of it. It was natural to him as wolf but he would never have done it with a human. Not only because his other human partners were not his mate but because they wouldn't find it comfortable and might even find it painful.
Later that night when he awoke still connected to her, his weight bearing her little body into the bed, he'd cursed himself. He'd drawn away and pulled her close. Since that first time, he always woke shortly after and, without the cursing, rolled to his back and pulled her to his side.
The next day after the first time, from their talk in the morning, and especially that night, he was surprised and delighted to find she liked it. They didn't sleep that way every night but, if he ended their play f**king her on her hands and knees, they always did and it was always Sonia that lured Callum to her.
One night, she'd even demanded it. Hands flying back to grasp his hips, her sex convulsing tight to trap his cock, she'd slid her knees down and drew him with her between her spreading legs.
It had been the most arousing thing a female had ever done and he'd instantly had an overwhelming urge to take her again. So he did, up on his hands, his h*ps pistoning into her, her belly to the bed, her legs spread wide, her ass tipped up just enough so she could take all of him and her moans and cries muffled by the pillow.
It had been, as it always was with Sonia, f**king magnificent.
What it hadn't been was anything near to anything he'd ever had with a female human.
And none of it made any sense.
Callum, being proudly wolf and being royal, did not spend a great deal of time with humans. He didn't avoid them but his duties, the consistent skirmishes and simply because he preferred the company of his brethren, meant he'd spent the vast majority of his life with wolves. Even though, if he caught the scent or liked the look of a female human he wouldn't hesitate in taking her, until Sonia, he preferred she-wolves and they made up the bulk of his bed partners.
Perhaps this was something human he just didn't know.
And what Callum didn't know, he didn't like.
Especially when it came to Sonia.
"Callum?" Caleb called, catching his attention as Callum kept his eyes on Sonia and he saw her force herself to relax.
She was hiding it. His instincts screamed it.
So perhaps it wasn't just something he didn't know. Perhaps it was something else entirely.
"Five minutes ago, you were wrapped in your queen's arms," Ryon noted, smiling as he approached the brothers. "Now you're scowling. What's up?"
Callum looked at his cousin.
Ryon.
His cousin, on the other hand, preferred female humans to she-wolves though he didn't shy away from wolves. He also enjoyed spending time in the human world.
If it was something Callum didn't know, Ryon might be able to tell him.
He started to open his mouth but thought better of it when a memory pierced his consciousness and his eyes slashed across the room to the vampire.
Gregor was standing by the Christmas tree talking with one of Sonia's neighbors who Callum had met and who Callum had not bothered to remember their name.
Two and a half weeks ago, Yuri had interrupted their post-play cuddle and, when Callum finally sensed him, his head jerked to the door at the same time as Sonia's. He hadn't been paying attention for obvious reasons but looking back, she'd appeared deeply surprised that Yuri was there.
Not only because it was surprising, and tremendously rude, that Yuri would interrupt them but also because she'd not sensed him until the last second which was something, just as it was for Callum, that was unusual for her to miss.
And later Gregor had wanted a private word with Callum that Sonia couldn't overhear and didn't take him to another room.
He took him for a walk and didn't speak for a block and a half.
Gregor didn't speak because he needed the distance so Sonia couldn't hear.
Callum sliced his eyes to Ryon and said, "I need to walk."
Ryon's head jerked and his gaze narrowed.
"Walk?" Caleb asked and Callum looked to his brother. "What are you on about? We're at Sonny's party. You can't leave. This is important to her."
It annoyed him that Caleb called Sonia "Sonny" when he wasn't calling her "sis". It annoyed him more that Ryon did it (without the "sis"). The only one who'd taken to doing this that didn't annoy him was Regan.
There was no reason why this annoyed him outside of the fact it was a familiarity that was greeted with radiant warmth from his mate and she returned it, having fallen into the habit of affectionately (and adorably) calling Caleb "bro" and Ryon "cuz".
This annoyed him more because she didn't use any endearments with Callum, even though he used them frequently with her. The only endearment she'd ever uttered was "wolf" and that was only when he was f**king her or playing with her.
He scowled at his brother and ordered, "Tell Sonia I'll be back in a while."
Caleb opened his mouth but Callum jerked his head to Ryon and walked directly to the entry, grabbed his coat and strode out the door.
Ryon was at his side within moments.
Callum didn't speak for a block and a half.
"Cal, what the f**k?" Ryon asked with irritation.
"The vampires are hiding something," Callum answered.
"What?"
"About Sonia, they're hiding something."
"That's mad, Cal, they can't ndash;"
Callum stopped abruptly, turned to his cousin and asked, "Do you remember Miranda?"
Miranda was a she-wolf who had, regrettably, lost her mate. It had been centuries ago, Callum and Ryon were barely battle ready, much less battle worn and Ryon, who shared features with Miranda's mate, had been her grief-stricken rebound. He'd not been virgin but she'd still initiated him to many aspects of play and she'd done it thoroughly. She missed her mate and she taught Ryon everything her mate had done to her and Ryon had been a grateful student and a willing replacement.
It was the first time either of them knew that the instinct to stay connected after play and into sleep was wolfish.
"What does she ndash;?" Ryon started.
Callum cut him off, "Remember how she liked you to sleep with her?"
Ryon's expression altered, it became roguish. He grinned and replied, "I remember a lot of things about Miranda. I still visit her from time to time."
Losing patience, Callum resisted the urge to growl and yanked the conversation back on track. "Sleep, Ry, not play. Do you remember how she liked to sleep with you? On her belly, you over her, connected?"
Ryon kept grinning as well as missing the point. "She still likes that. One of my favorite parts about her, the reason I always go back."
"Sonia likes it too," Callum informed him tersely and Ryon's grin died. "She likes it a good f**king deal."
"You didn'thellip;" Ryon started. "You f**king didn'thellip;" he growled then spat, "Cal, she's f**king tiny."
"I know that," Callum clipped. "I won't go into how I initiated her to it but she likes it. Have you ever done that with a human?"
"In a sense but I've never slept like that," Ryon bit back. "I'd f**king crush her."
"Have you ever had a human play as rough as a wolf?" Callum pushed.
Ryon's head jerked slightly in surprise at the question and he answered, "No."
"Not even close?" Callum pressed.
"Not even close."
"You ever play with a human as rough as you would with a wolf?" Callum persisted.
Ryon's face grew dark with anger. "Please tell me ndash;"
Callum got close. "She wants it that way, Ryon. She f**king loves it. You ever know a human, in your vast experience, who likes it like that?"
"That's impossible, she couldn't even take it."
"She takes it, Ry," Callum retorted. "She takes all of it." Ryon's eyebrows shot up at this shocking revelation. "And if I don't give it to her, she begs me for it."
"Jesus," Ryon breathed, staring at Callum. "How lucky can you f**king get?"
Callum didn't have time to share all the ways he was lucky to have Sonia, only some of them having to do with how she liked to play.
"That isn't my point."
"What's your point?" Ryon asked.
"That's not it, there's more," Callum informed him. "She's got heightened senses. Not as heightened as a vampire or a wolf when he's transformed but, as far as I can gather, it's close to what a wolf has in human form."
Ryon couldn't hide his response, he reared back whispering, "You're f**king joking."
"I'm not and she's hiding it and the vampires know about it. You ever experience anything like that with a human?"
"Never."
"Sense it? Get the barest, f**king inkling of it?" Callum clipped.
"No, Cal, not ever."
Callum looked away, hissing, "Fuck!"
He didn't like what he was thinking but he couldn't help thinking it primarily because it was the only thing that made sense.
Callum had decided to give Sonia her Christmas before he launched his offensive to quell the rebellion.
He did this for two reasons.
One, he and his men had made a significant effort to hide the extent of their intelligence, something Calder had taken over gathering (and doing a great job at it, as normal) from the rebel leaders. The rebellion thought they were still gathering information and planning their offensive. They had no idea Callum's attack was coming. They had no idea Callum knew as much as he knew and therefore had planned as thoroughly as he'd planned. They had no idea that Callum knew that they were still amassing and planning their attack for after the New Year. Fuck, even Nikolas, one of their chiefs, Callum had asked to escort his queen and his mother to the mall (under the constant, hidden, guard of four other wolves who followed their every move, that was) in order to hide his knowledge at the depth of their infiltration. Callum spending time enjoying his Christmas with his new mate would make them think he lost focus or wasn't taking them seriously and it would, he hoped, lull them into a sense of security.
And two, Sonia loved Christmas and Callum wanted Sonia to have her Christmas.
It was now the night before Christmas Eve. They were moving on the rebellion on Boxing Day.
There was a lot on his mind, including the fact that the rebels fought dirty and losses, on both sides, would likely be high.
He didn't need this shit now.
His eyes came back to Ryon's. "The minute this shit is over with the rebellion, I want you, personally, with no one knowing about it, to investigate Sonia's disease. I want to know what it is. I want to know the incidence. I want to know what it does to her body. And I want to know exactly what's in that f**king injection, how it works and how long she's been taking it. If you have to torture her f**king doctor, do it, but get me what I want."
"You don't think Sonny ndash;" Ryon started and it took everything Callum had to beat back the urge to strike at Ryon even thinking what he was going to say, much less saying it.
"Not a chance," Callum gritted out. "Every night, I tell her it's time to take her injection and every night I watch her eyes go blank. Sonia's eyes are never blank but to hide her distress at her nightly agony, they gohellip; fuckinghellip; blank. And every night I give her that injection and every night it's like she's dying in my arms and not in a quiet, pass behind the veil kind of way but in a tortured, agonizing kind of way. I've never seen anything like it in my life. It's hideous. She wouldn't do that to herself if she didn't have to, no one would."
"Then what are you thinking?" Ryon asked.
"She wouldn't do it to herself," Callum explained, "but a f**king vampire would do it to her."
Ryon's face went hard for he knew it was true.
Vampires could be ruthless.
"I don't know what their game is or even if they're playing it. But, if The Prophesies go down the way they've been foretold, then ndash;" Callum stated.
Ryon cut him off. "I'll investigate. Don't jump to any conclusions before we know."
Callum was a lucky wolf in many ways, not just having Sonia, but also a wise father, a loving mother, fiercely loyal brothers and Ryon, far more even-tempered and level-headed than Callum, as his advisor and friend.
Ryon got closer. "Lassiter wanted his daughter raised by them instead of us and you know why. Mac agreed and made the allegiance. And Cal, you know, Mac was no fool."
Callum looked away, lifted his hand to his neck and gave it a squeeze.
His father was anything but a fool.
Then it hit him.
Callum dropped his arm and looked at his cousin. "Do you remember the conversation I had with Gregor that I told you about?"
"The info about Lucien?" Ryon asked.
Callum's mouth went hard at the memory and bit out, "And the rest."
Ryon nodded. "I remember."
"Gregor doesn't want to lose her, thinks of her as a daughter or at least he wanted me to believe that and he was pretty f**king convincing. Perhaps this injection isn't for a deadly blood disease. Perhaps it isn't for some nefarious reason, doinghellip; whatever, to Sonia, my queen, a treachery against the alliance. Perhaps it's vampiric. Perhaps they've concocted something that will lengthen her life."
"Vampire saliva is pretty powerful but it doesn't heighten senses," Ryon commented.
"And humans don't react to vampire saliva the way Sonia reacts to that injection. They aren't injecting her with that, it's something else. Wolves don't need medicines and I can't say I've a lot of experience with witnessing humans taking treatments but I can't imagine their medicines regularly cause those kinds of reactions," Callum's gaze turned intense on his cousin. "When I say it's bad, Ryon, I mean it's bad."
Ryon's eyes flashed briefly before his thoughts turned and they gentled. "Poor Sonny."
This was said with feeling, too much of it. More than would be offered to Ryon's queen, even a member of his family. Callum again wondered at it at the same time he didn't like it.
However, he'd have a word with his cousin later, after all of his problems were sorted.
"The minute we deal with this f**king situation in Mona's territory, I'm taking Sonia to Scotland," he announced.
"Of course."
"I want any time she spends with Gregor or Yuri or any vampire monitored," Callum ordered.
"It's done."
Then Callum said what he had to say so he could let it go and not leap out of his skin, into the wolf and tear Gregor and Yuri asunder the minute he walked back into Sonia's house. This would cause an immortal incident which could tip the scales of The Prophesies far sooner than expected.
"I find out they've been doing that to her then deceiving her to doing it to herself for thirty-one years, I swear, Ry ndash;"
Ryon cut him off yet again, stating fiercely, "You'll have my teeth at your back."
They held each other's gazes for several long moments, Callum trying to decide if Ryon's loyal declaration was for his benefit or Sonia's.
Then Callum let it go and nodded.
"Fuck, I wish I could run," he muttered curtly, turning back toward Sonia's house. "It's too long I've spent in this goddamned city."
"You'll be home soon," Ryon replied, walking beside him. "And when you go, you'll be taking back your queen."
At least that was something to look forward to, so much so, Callum looked to his cousin and smiled.
Ryon returned his smile and stopped walking. Callum stopped with him.
"Speaking of your queenhellip;" Ryon started and trailed off.
Callum automatically braced.
Ryon studied him a moment before asking, "Is everything okay with you two?"
Callum relaxed and grinned before stating, "Perfect."
And they were perfect. Not just their play, which happened as frequently as he could manage and Sonia always greeted it with eagerness, but everything that was them was perfect.
They settled in a rhythm of life that pleased Callum very much.
He allowed her to go to Clear for two or three hours a day but kept her close any other time. Mostly in his lap, liking her near, liking her scent. The sound of her steady breathing. The sight of her elegant profile if he just twisted his neck to look at it. Her sweet ass snug in his lap, his chain within reach so he could toy with the charm she loved so much and he could have the physical reminder of their bond in his fingers.
She didn't mind this, had settled into it nicely, in fact. As her reward, he often allowed her to do things around the house or go shopping with his mother or, if they were at the mansion, to wander freely so she could talk to and get to know her wolves. This last he'd noted, as Sonia was very sociable and sweet, she'd charmed the lot of them as Callum knew she would do.
She would often stiffen and inform him of what displeased her (or not, depending) but she was Sonia. That was her way.
They did not fight as they did in the beginning. She had clearly accepted her destiny, in fact, she'd embraced it.
Ryon's eyebrows went up, taking Callum out of his thoughts when he enquired, "You're certain?"
Callum turned fully to Ryon and demanded, "What are you driving at?"
Ryon blew out a sigh and noted, "Regardless of her heightened abilities, she's still human."
"Yes, Ry, she's still human," Callum remarked with strained patience.
"And female humans are not like she-wolves."
"No, they aren't." Although Sonia, Callum thought, in many ways very much was.
"Cal," Ryon went on patiently, "ours is a whole other world for her. A different culture, all of it but mostly the way a male is with his mate, what he expects of her. I've been watching Sonia, she's settled quickly, too quickly. It's strange for a human and it makes me uncomfortable."
Callum felt his gut get tight. "What makes me uncomfortable is you watching her."
Ryon's body went visibly solid and his voice was threaded with angry affront when he whispered, "You insult me, my king."
Callum studied his cousin then he reminded him, "She's my mate."
"Understood," Ryon replied, "more than probably you know."
"What does that mean?"
"That means we've grown up together, closer than brothers and I've wanted this for you for over three hundred years," Ryon clipped. "And I don't want you to f**k it up."
Suddenly angry at Ryon's unwelcome and unfathomable implication, Callum leaned in and declared, "I'm not f**king it up."
Ryon pulled in an annoyed breath and explained, "Cal, she-wolves don't hide their emotions. You know where you stand. They're pissed, they come at you. They feel playful, they jump you. They need affection, they nuzzle you. They want something, they ask for it and you get it for them. Female humans are not like that. They communicate in a kind ofhellip; a kind ofhellip;" he hesitated before snapping out the word, "code that only they understand. Half the time, you'll never have any f**king clue what's going on in their heads. Female humans' minds are like the answer to the meaning of life, impossible to decipher."
"Sonia has no problems sharing what's on her mind," Callum informed his cousin, wondering, not for the first time, especially if this was true, why Ryon bothered with humans.
"You might think that but, with a female human, you'll never know for sure," Ryon retorted.
"That's ridiculous," Callum scoffed because it bloody well was.
"That's human," Ryon returned. "I know you haven't enlightened her about the wolf within, which I understand and you know I agree she should be in the bosom of our people when that knowledge is shared. But, have you been instructing her?"
"In what?"
"In everything," Ryon replied. "Jesus, Cal, it's like moving to a new country but without the physical location changing. Everything is different. Our traditions, our personality traits, our behavior." He threw his arm out in the direction of Sonia's farmhouse. "That party, for instance. That is not a wolf party and, as delightful as her outfit is, that is not how wolves dress." He came closer to Callum and dropped his voice lower. "Everything we are, she needs to understand. She may be experiencing things that are confusing her, even alarming her, and she'd never let on. She'd just let them build and build until it either explodes or turns to resentment, against you, our people, her new life. Even the smallest thing, Callum, she might not understand. Female humans need communication, a lot of it. It's f**king annoying but, trust me, you're better off giving it to her than suffering the consequences."
Callum stared at his cousin, disliking (intensely) what he was hearing but also smart enough to know Ryon knew what he was talking about. He'd spent a lot of time in female human company whereas Callum took what he wanted and moved on. He'd never played their games but he knew they had them.
And furthermore, this conversation, and Ryon's coaching, went a long way to dispel his disquiet at Ryon's attention to his mate.
"Fucking hell," Callum finally muttered then yielded, "I'll talk to her."
"Smart," Ryon nodded.
Callum sighed at adding yet another issue to the list he would have to sort.
Then they walked together back to Sonia's house.
After they'd taken off their coats, Ryon made his way instantly to Caleb while Callum went to Sonia. She was standing amongst a group of her friends, listening and smiling and he approached her from behind.
He knew she knew he was there because he saw, nearly imperceptibly but it was there, her body grow tight before he was even close. Understanding it now, he'd likely notice these actions far more and he began cataloguing them.
He used his smile aimed at her friends to hide his unrest, came up to her from behind and slid an arm around her waist, placing his mouth at her ear.
"It's time for your injection, baby doll," he muttered in a voice for only Sonia to hear.
He was pleased he couldn't see her eyes, even though he felt her body tense. Seeing her eyes go blank, night after night, was like dying a little death.
She turned to him, her gaze at his shoulder, and nodded, murmuring her apologies as he led her away, up the stairs, to the bathroom.
She waited obediently as he loaded the syringe.
When it was ready, she turned her back to him, one of his arms slid around her belly as he instructed gently, "Lift your skirt for me, little one."
She shimmied it up her hips, as she did so, exposing a pair of sexy, white, lace panties he'd ordered her to go with his mother and buy (about a second after he'd gathered her unattractive undergarments and thrown them in the trash). She was also wearing lace-topped, thigh high stockings.
Regardless of his chore, he still felt his groin tighten at the sight.
Swiftly, so as not to prolong her apprehension, he administered the injection.
Facing the basin, the minute the toxin entered her body, both of her hands flew out to clutch the basin and her head lowered. She sucked in a tortured breath and her pretty face twisted with suffering. Callum dropped the syringe into the sink, yanked her skirt down and wrapped his arms around her, trying to tear his eyes from the mirror that exposed her pain and failing.
His body absorbed the tortured shudders rending their way through hers until she unconsciously dragged in calming breaths as the pain slowly burned itself out.
When it was over, she lifted her head until it rested on his shoulder, her cheek against his. His chin was lowered to her and her hands glided along his forearms until her arms were crossed and her fingers curled around his wrists.
"I even feel it in my hair," she whispered, the ghost of pain veining her voice and Callum's scalp stung unpleasantly in hearing the comprehensiveness of his mate's pain.
He buried his face in her neck.
"Baby doll," he murmured there as there was nothing more that he could do.
And he f**king hated the feeling of powerlessness that was thrust on him night after night.
Her fingers tightened on his wrists and she said softly, "It's over, Callum."
It wasn't over. It would happen again the next night and the night after that.
If it was indeed a disease, it would happen until he stood beside her burning pyre.
He didn't respond, just tensed his arms, drawing her closer.
"We have guests." she reminded him.
He took in breath through his nose, her scent, already surrounding him, intensifying and his body relaxed at the smell and her uttering the fact that they had guests.
She did not say "I" but "we".
Callum liked that.
He nodded and lifted his head, his eyes catching hers in the mirror where she, who'd endured it, gave him, who'd only witnessed it, a reassuring smile.
Then he stood holding her while she reapplied her lipstick and unnecessarily rearranged her thick, beautiful hair.
Then he led her downstairs and stood at her side as she entertained, having lost his enjoyment of the evening and as it continued finding himself losing his patience as his need for her grew.
She, however, continued to enjoy it and that was the only reason Callum could endure.
It was late. The caterers had swept away their wares, leaving the house tidy but Sonia still wandered it. Finding a discarded napkin here, the remains of wrapping paper there and throwing them away while Callum shut down the house for the night.
When he guided her up the stairs, he led her to the bathroom deciding that he'd give them a better memory of a space that had become, for him, as it had to be for her, dreaded.
At first she was confused and hesitant but that melted, as Sonia always did, when he gently placed her hands on the basin, ordered her to keep them there and yanked up her skirt. He pulled down her panties and she stepped out of them before he commanded she open her legs. He saw, reflected in the mirror, her face grow hungry and his need for her deepened before she did as she was told and, at once, as her reward, he slid his hand between her legs from behind, giving her what she craved.
Callum watched her in the mirror thinking distractedly, because he so liked what he saw, that he'd have to have a room paneled in mirrors at his castle in Scotland. The vision of her growing excitement erasing the earlier, painful one as he brought her to orgasm with his fingers. Then, while she was still moaning her uninhibited release, he watched as he entered her and f**ked her, her skirt bunched at her hips, her sweet ass willingly tilting up to take all of him. And he kept watching as he brought her to orgasm again moments before he had his own.
Then, keeping Sonia impaled on his cock, he gazed in the mirror, her hooded eyes, he noted, doing the same, as he slowly disrobed her, baring her beautiful, little body still intimately connected to his. Once she was na**d against him, he took his time, running his hands along the skin of her midriff, her belly, her sides and up to her br**sts as he, and Sonia, watched the trail of his hands and as he, alone, felt her sex shudder around his c**k in response to their travels. And he held her, his forearms crossed, his hands cupping her br**sts, his thumbs idly stroking her ni**les, his shaft still hard and buried to the root, as he memorized the look of them together. The smell of their mingled essence. The beautiful feel and sight of all that was her.
She twisted her neck and, with her lips against his skin, he watched in the mirror as she whispered there, "How do you stay so hard so long?"
"Sensory incentive," he replied softly (and truthfully).
She emitted a fluttering sigh.
He smiled.
Then he lifted her off his shaft, turned her, seated her on the basin and lazily pulled off her boots and slid off her stockings.
Then he carried her to bed, his sweet little Sonia, took off his clothes, joined her and pulled her close, on their sides, his face in her hair, her ass snug in his crotch, his body pressed to the length of hers.
His voice was gentle when he asked, "Did you have a good night, my little one?"
"Yes," she whispered sleepily, hesitated, then enquired, "Did you?"
"Yes," he answered and his arms gave her a squeeze. "I liked the way it ended the best."
"Figures," she mumbled seconds before she fell asleep.
He should have felt contentment but these were his worst times. In the dark, Sonia near, her body relaxed in his arms. These were the times he knew he'd miss most when she was gone.
He didn't seethe against her aging, the onset of wrinkles, her gorgeous hair turning gray.
He seethed against the knowledge that one day, she'd be gone.
As with every night since the claiming, King Callum fell asleep with his queen forced to come to uneasy terms with this vile knowledge of his future.
Chapter Fourteen
Christmas
Sonia's body was trapped between the back of the far more comfortable couch in her upstairs television room and the length of Callum's frame. Her head was resting on his chest. Her arm was draped around his stomach. Her gaze was on the television.
In this position, late Christmas Eve, King Callum watched the movie White Christmas for the first time.
The detritus of their feeding frenzy was on the table in front of them, something, to his surprise, which was Sonia's idea.
One of the things she had made no bones about since they met was her dislike of the wolf diet. But that morning when he'd asked how she traditionally spent her Christmas Eve and Christmas day, she'd told him in a tentative, almost, to his surprise (and foreboding) shy way, that both days were the only days of the calendar year where she ate what she wanted, how much she wanted and didn't worry about it.
Callum hid the displeasure he felt at these words, a displeasure he felt for three reasons.
First, she'd been shy in relating this information to him. Why Sonia would be shy, considering they were lifemates, she'd been claimed, she spent most of her days in his lap and all of her nights full of his cock, he couldn't imagine.
Second, because her shyness made him realize that he'd never bothered to ask her anything about herself, her likes, dislikes, what she enjoyed doing, what she did not. So, he supposed, it wasn't unusual that she would be shy because she was being asked to share about herself which was new to her. At least doing it with him was.
She needed to fit into his life, this was true. But she was also an important part of his. He'd had a lot on his mind but, regardless if it was inadvertent, the extent of his callousness shook him. Further, he wondered, as Ryon suggested, if under the surface of Sonia's acceptance of her fate, something else lurked.
Last, because she so rigidly controlled her eating which was one of his most disliked human traits and one he would be fully breaking her of after the holidays.
Wolves didn't count calories and they were not obsessively tidy as Sonia also was. Contradictory to humans, even though a wolf's life could last eternity, they didn't squander them on trivial things. They lived them to their fullest, every day enjoying what life had to offer and never sweating the small stuff.
While in bed that morning, her eyes riveted to his chest, her fingers absentmindedly sifting through the dark hair there, she'd explained (while he hid his displeasure, and, later, unrest) that Christmas Eve, she relaxed, read a book, watched movies and ate whatever she wanted. Christmas morning, she opened her presents which she kept for some reason she didn't share under her upstairs tree. Then she went to Gregor's in the afternoon and had a late afternoon dinner with him and Yuri before she came home.
This news was, Callum thought, somehow gloomy. Although she related it in a way that seemed straightforward, it didn't change the fact that most of her beloved holiday she spent alone and none of it, to his way of thinking, sounded very much fun.
This was also not the way of the wolf, not ever, but definitely not on Christmas.
And Callum determined, watching her eyes follow her fingers, even if his queen was used to her lonely Christmases, she'd have them that way no longer.
From that day on, they would be vastly different.
And Callum set about making that so.
When she was finished talking, he'd turned to her and made love to her. He'd done it slowly, taking his time, building the hunger and when her moans slid back to whimpers, he sated it. After, still wrapped in her limbs, their bodies connected, he took the time he rarely took (because he rarely had it) to coddle her. His hands drifting idly on her skin. His nose taking in the scent of her. His lips trailing her neck, her ear, her face and, as he did so, her limbs tightened around him protectively, lovingly and he growled his approval against her skin.
After they got out of bed, she made breakfast for them and they showered. When she was dressing and doing whatever else it was she did while preparing for her day, he placed calls, making arrangements and seeking information.
When she came down the stairs dressed in a long sleeve t-shirt and jeans, he sent her back up to dress warmer.
Without a peep, she did as she was told.
Then he took her to a sporting goods store and bought what they needed.
Then he took her sledding.
She'd been shocked through this, to the point she didn't speak.
But once they hit the crowded, public sledding hill and she was amongst the children and parents with their own sleighs, she'd thrown herself into it with abandon.
Callum stood at the top of the hill watching her challenge the kids who always took her up on it and then race them down the hill, always letting them win. He'd saunter down and drag the sled back up for her, Sonia climbing by his side, his arm around her shoulders, hers light around his waist as she exchanged loud, animated replays amongst her new friends. And then she'd find her next mark and challenge another child and down she'd go again, giggling all the way.
Honest to God, if he didn't know differently, watching her unabashed glee, he'd swear she was wolf.
After she'd exhausted herself, he'd taken her to the snack shop and they sat outside, Sonia in his lap. As they sat, the children giggled at them and men and women surreptitiously glanced their way (some with curiosity, most, he noted, both male and female, with envy) while they drank hot cocoa.
Then he took her home, challenged her to a board game that they played sitting on the floor in her living room by a fire he built. They played while they ate a late lunch and he beat her, soundly, to which she pouted, magnificently, so he gave her another chance and played her again and beat her again. But he purposefully didn't do it so decisively the second time.
Then she eschewed dinner, preparing a feast of unhealthy snack foods which he approved of thoroughly. While Sonia did that, Callum checked the garage to ascertain if Regan had seen to his requests and, as ever, considering shopping was involved, his mother had accomplished her mission admirably. They carted the food upstairs and nibbled on it voraciously at first, trailing off as Sonia first put in Elf, another film he had not seen as he didn't often waste time sitting around watching human movies then Scrooged which he had seen but only parts of it.
And finally, as the night grew late, Sonia slid in the movie she explained to him she watched last every year on Christmas Eve, White Christmas.
Elf, Callum found, was roaringly funny. Scrooged was also funny and clever but he liked White Christmas best. It was humorous, it was sweet, it had a depth of emotion, not to mention the man called Bing could f**king sing and the lodge they were in through most of the movie reminded him of home.
Close to the end of the film, he felt her body tense and saw her hand snake from around him to fist as she brought it to her mouth. He lifted his head to see she was silently crying, having trouble holding back her sobs at a scene she'd watched dozens of times before but, obviously, it never failed to move her.
He found that moment, Sonia tucked into him on Christmas Eve silently weeping against his chest, somehow touching and right then he determined it was another new tradition and he'd have it every year. Without a word, he lifted a hand to cradle her face, his thumb trailing through her tears as he watched the General's soldiers declaring their unceasing loyalty and he thought the end of White Christmas was the f**king best.
He used the remote to switch off the television when it was finished and Sonia immediately moved to exit the couch.
His arm tightened, keeping her where she was.
"Honey, where are you going?"
Her head tipped back to look at him.
"Wellhellip;" she started then for some reason looked beyond his ear to the arm of the couch his head was resting on. "After White Christmas, I clean up the mess and go to bed."
Callum turned his head, his eyes hit the clock on the DVD player and he saw it was quarter to midnight.
Nearly Christmas.
And he decided on another new tradition.
His other arm circled her and he pulled her up his chest so they were eye-to-eye.
"Why do you watch White Christmas last every year?"
She took a fluttering breath, something she did often, something he liked because always it denoted she was feeling something deep and he liked the fact that his queen felt deeply.
Then she answered, "Because I watched it with my parents every year. They loved it." She swallowed, seeming both nervous and uncertain and she gazed into his eyes as if trying to read him which was odd. She was a female human who, according to Ryon, communicated in code. He was wolf and therefore, with his mate at least, an open book. She must have found what she was seeking for she went on, "If I watch it, it means, before I go to bed on Christmas Eve, I'm remembering them. They're fresh in my mind which is the only way I can ever really have them."
Having lost Mac and Calvin, understanding her sense of bereavement and hoping to soothe her grief as she had done his, his hand went to her neck, his fingers slid in her hair and he pulled her face down to touch her lips to his.
She relaxed in his arms and he decided, with no small sense of triumph that he'd succeeded in his endeavor.
He slid her back down his body with his arm about her and tucked her cheek to his chest with his other hand.
Then he asked, "Would you like to know how my people spend Christmas?"
She didn't answer at first, just pulled in a soft, surprised breath and he cursed himself again for his insensitivity because Ryon was right. She needed information about the culture she'd be living amongst for the rest of her days and she didn't need to get it by being suddenly confronted with it in all of its, to her, peculiarity.
His fingers tensed in her hair then relaxed and slid through it, and again, and again, petting her while he spoke.
"We start on first December with the parties. Everyone throws one. It's like a war to have the best party so people will want to come to yours. There's one to attend every day, sometimes you'll attend two or even three. They aren't like yours. They're a little louder, a little wilder and my people don't only have them at night, they like celebrating anytime. They have them during the day as well. Enormous luncheons with so much food, you need a nap afterward. Full-on breakfasts, which always lead eventually to trips to the pub and then, even later, stumbling home highly inebriated while singing Christmas songs."
He heard a surprised giggle escape her throat, sounding strangled and he realized he'd never, not once in over three weeks, made her laugh.
Not once.
Fucking hell, but he'd been buried so deep with everything else, with his mate, he'd been a thoughtless bastard.
She tipped her head back and her eyes were alight when she asked, "You stumble home drunk singing Christmas songs?"
He grinned down at her, enchanted more than usual at his queen when her eyes were lit like that, and admitted, "It's been known to happen."
She pressed her lips together but he felt her body shake with laughter.
"My people like to sing," he informed her easily. "They like it best when they're shitfaced."
She burst out laughing and dropped her forehead to his chest.
There were many things he'd experienced with Sonia in the last three weeks that Callum f**king loved.
But nothing was better than feeling Sonia's body rocking with laughter, the sound of it rumbling into his chest, while she was in his arms.
She eventually gulped back her giggles, lifted her head and encouraged, "Go on."
His hand dropped to her neck and his thumb caressed the underside of her jaw as he continued, "Christmas Eve is spent, with strict adherence to tradition, at one member of the extended family's house. You arrive for breakfast and stay through to long past darkness falling."
"Do you have a lot of extended family?" she asked.
He didn't wish to scare her with the real numbers so he answered, "A fair few, more than attended your party last night."
Her eyes grew huge and she breathed, "That's a long time to have a bunch of people around, especially if you have to feed them."
"At the end of the evening, before anyone goes home, it's also tradition for the women to fight over who'll get to host it the next year." He grinned at her. "Sometimes it gets vicious."
She smiled back, not knowing that what he said was literal.
She-wolves could transform and they did it often, mostly to run with their mates. There were those few with that bent (in other words, their fated lifemate and their taste in play partners ran to their own gender) who were warriors and good ones.
However, most other times, she-wolves stayed in human form.
Unless they were fighting drunkenly, thus much less in control of the transformation, over who would host Christmas Eve.
Blood was shed more often than not.
Callum decided not to share that with Sonia.
Instead, he said, "During the day, the women cook, chat and play cards at the kitchen table."
She rolled her eyes and mumbled, "Of course they do."
He lifted his head and touched his mouth to hers until he saw her eyes roll back then he sat back and continued, "The males have a rugby tournament or some sort of sport outdoors," he grinned and informed her, "the more brutal, the better."
"Not surprising," she noted without rancor, "intense, as with everything else, even on Christmas Eve."
His thumb slid over her lower lip because he wanted it to, not to stop her from talking but she did so and he started again. "We all get together for an evening feast, usually getting drunk again then we have group games that pretty much descend into pandemonium. The women fight it out as to who will host the next year and then everyone goes home."
"Except for the all day cooking and vicious battle that ends the night, it sounds kind of fun," she quipped, her lips tipped up at the ends.
"It is," he replied truthfully. "Family is all-important. That's why finding your mate it fundamental to our existence." His voice dipped lower and his arm grew tighter. "It heralds the time when we can start our own."
Her expression changed swiftly. Starting with shock then shifting to gentleness mixed with yearning, straight to alarmed and ending in what he was surprised to see was openly false curiosity.
"What do you do for Christmas?" she asked, changing the subject almost desperately and he wanted to understand what had been going on in that head of hers but he thought it prudent to let it go.
The mood, he sensed, was still light. He wanted that for himself but, getting the impression he'd given her a good day, mostly he wanted it for Sonia.
"You share the morning with your mate and your children, if you have them. You open your presents, you have breakfast." He grinned wolfishly. "You make love while the children are playing." She bit her lip and he went on, "Then the direct family gets together in the afternoons and we stay together into the evening, feasting, drinking, playing games. Nothing formal, everything relaxed. We have fireworks and a glass of warm, mulled wine at midnight then, if you aren't already home, you go home."
Her expression shifted back to gentle and he knew it was sincere as her body had molded to his.
"That sounds very fun," she said softly before she made a comical disgusted face, "except mulled wine."
"We'll get you champagne," he murmured, thinking of next Christmas and Sonia standing in his arms but amongst his brethren, wrapped tight in the furs he'd give her, drinking champagne with her face tipped to the stars and the multi-colored bursts of fireworks lighting her skin and hair.
Definitely something to look forward to.
"I'd prefer champagne," she murmured back, gazing at him curiously but matching his tone as if attentive to his mood.
His eyes slid to the clock and he noted the time.
His arm brought her ever closer as his hand slid into her hair, tenderly fisting and twisting, he brought her lips to his.
And he gave her a kiss that communicated the promise that her lonely Christmases past were a memory and that her every Christmas of the future would start justhellip; likehellip; this.
Her eyes were dazed when his mouth broke from hers, her breathing unsteady and she glanced adorably unfocused toward the clock, taking in a deep breath.
When her eyes refocused, she sighed and looked back at him.
He waited, uncharacteristically patiently, as her green eyes searched his face then looked deep into his, again like she was trying to read him and she doubted what she saw.
Finally, she whispered, "Merry Christmas, Callum."
He was disappointed she didn't call him "wolf" or any other sweet nothing she could dream up.
Even so, his disappointment didn't last long since it was time for bed and the next new tradition Callum was going to introduce.
It was one Sonia liked a great deal.
And, at the end of that, she not only called him "my wolf".
She screamed it.
* * * * *
Callum woke when he felt Sonia move out of his arms.
His eyes opened as his ears heard her tortured whimper.
His body froze when he saw her.
"Jesus, honey, what the f**k?" he clipped, his hand reaching out to her body which was still under the covers but up on all fours, her head bent low, her breathing erratic.
She reared violently away from him the instant the tips of his fingers glanced her skin but even so he felt the tremendous heat. It felt like she was roasting.
"Sonia," his voice was sharper with his concern, "what the f**k?"
She didn't lift her head when she panted her extreme understatement, "Cal, something's wrong."
She moved then emitted an almost animal whine and froze.
He slid as close to her as he dared and her breaths became gasps. She sounded like she was fighting for air.
"I'm calling an ambulance," he announced.
"No!" she cried then gasped, "The syringe, did you fill the syringe?"
"Yes."
"Full, Cal. Did you use it all?"
"Of course I f**king did."
Her head twisted slowly and she looked at him, her eyes hazy but her voice was terrified when she whispered, "This is what it felt like when I didn't take the injection. This is the burn. This is me boiling out of my skin," she gasped then whimpered, terror stark in her tone like she didn't know whether to scream or wail. "Cal, this has never happened while I've been taking the medication. Something's wrong."
Dread settled in his gut with the weight of an anvil and he declared again, "I'm calling an ambulance."
"They won't know how to treat me!" she cried. "The ER people won't have even heard of this," she moaned. "I've always been scared this would happen." Then she released that animalistic whine again and Callum felt it score through his system.
"Your doctor," he said suddenly.
She lifted her head and asked vaguely, "What?"
"Baby doll, your doctor will know what to do. Do you have his number?"
"In my phone, in my ndash;"
She didn't finish for Callum was out of bed and bounding down the stairs, literally. He planted a palm into the railing and leaped over the side coming to rest agilely on his feet on the landing. He did the same again from there and landed at the foot of the stairs.
He found her phone in her bag, the number in the phone and he rang it while he took the stairs, three at a time, going back up.
While Sonia, who'd thrown off the covers, looked to be fighting the battle of her life in the bed, Callum went through the rigmarole of phoning the on-call doctor who was not, regrettably, Sonia's physician. This man took too long (in other words, more than ten seconds) to promise to contact Sonia's doctor and they would be in touch urgently. The only positive thing that came from this was the fact that the on-call doctor seemed familiar with the lethal importance of Sonia's illness and didn't sound like he was f**king around.
Unable to touch her even to soothe her, Callum went to the bathroom and threw a towel in the tub, drenching it with cold water and not bothering to ring it out. He carried it to the bedroom and carefully threw it over her back.
"Yes," she whimpered her relief, falling down to child's pose under the large, wet towel, her arms stretched out in front of her.
Her phone rang and Callum snatched it from the receiver.
"Dr. Mortenson?" he clipped into the mouthpiece.
"You're Sonia Arlington's husband?" a man replied.
"Yes," Callum ground out. "Is this Dr. Mortenson?"
"Yes, son. My colleague said she's having a turn?"
A turn? He called this a f**king turn?
"She's boiling to the touch and says she's coming out of her skin."
"Did she teach you how to administer an injection?"
"Yes," Callum bit off curtly.
"Then give her an injection."
"I did that five hours ago."
"Do it again," he replied calmly. "I'll stay on the line."
Callum wasted no time. When he returned to their bedroom, she'd thrown off the towel and was on all fours again, keening low as she battled the pain.
"It's okay, baby doll, just hold tight for me," he cooed and sunk the needle into the flesh of her buttock as swiftly as he could.
She cried out, arching her back, her neck, her hair flying over her shoulders. Then she shifted, rounding her back, her head falling between her arms, her moan going low, distinct, guttural and absolutely terrifying to hear.
He snatched the phone to his ear. Frustrated beyond anything he'd ever experienced at his impotence in the face of his mate's agony, Callum clipped, "She's worse."
"I'm counting down, son, stay with me, one minute, thirty-five seconds," and then he counted down in Callum's ear, every five seconds, as Sonia dropped to the bed and started writhing.
"Doctor ndash;" Callum's voice was vibrating with fury.
"You can probably touch her now," the doctor said quietly then went on. "Forty-five secondshellip;"
Callum dropped the phone and cautiously approached his mate who had stopped twisting. Reaching out slowly, he touched her skin which was clammy with sweat but no longer scalding to the touch.
He slid his fingers across her skin to touch her with his full hand and she didn't cry out so he carefully gathered her into his arms and sat with her in the bed, his back to the headboard, Sonia cradled against him.
"I'm okay," she whispered into his neck and at once his hand snaked out and snatched the phone.
"I'll want to know why this happened," Callum said into the phone.
"She's better now?" Dr. Mortenson queried in response.
"I said, I'll want to know why this happened," Callum repeated.
Dr. Mortenson sighed. "Bodies are magnificent and terrible things, son. It could be Sonia's built up a tolerance to the drug; she's been using it for years. But there are changes in life and in your body all the time. She may be releasing more, or less, hormones. She may have suffered a shock that caused a physical response in her system which triggered a change in the efficacy of the drug. Even if she's living under significantly higher amounts of stress and anxiety or depression, say the loss of a loved one, the body has physical manifestations to all of those and all of them will interact with the medication. I'll want to do blood work and she'll need two daily injections, morning and evening, until I'm happy with what I see."
Fucking hell, now he had to give her two of those bloody injections?
And worse, Sonia had to take them?
"When can she come in for the tests?" he demanded to know.
"Anytime you want. Go to St. Vincent's Hospital, give them my name. I'll send the orders. They'll draw up the blood. Is she peaceful now?"
Callum looked down at Sonia who had wrapped her arm around his body, her other hand was cocked between them resting on his chest, her cheek on her hand. Her eyes, though, were on him. They were troubled but not fevered and delirious.
"She's peaceful."
"Smart girl, teaching you to give her injection. Well done, son. We'll meet soon, I hope. Merry Christmas."
Then the bastard hung up on him.
Callum used all of his control not to throw the phone across the room. Instead he touched the button for off and slid it into its receiver.
Then he slid his fingers through Sonia's hair, took in a deep breath to regain his composure and asked, "You okay, my little one?"
"Umhellip; outside of being scared out of my mind?" she queried dryly. "Yes."
He had no response to that so didn't make one.
"What did Dr. Mortenson say?" she enquired.
"He wants tests," Callum replied, deciding to share the happy news that she needed two injections per day later.
She nodded.
"He also said it was a smart that you taught me how to give an injection," he teased with mock arrogance, wishing to lift the mood and soothe away the troubled look in his queen's eyes. Giving her a wary squeeze of his arms, he went on, "It's lucky you were so keen to do that, baby doll."
"Shut up, Cal," she muttered in mock annoyance, not able to hide her relief.
But he froze.
She'd called him Cal and she'd done it more than once.
Something about that made him want to howl with victory as if he'd won an epic battle.
Instead, he gave her another careful squeeze.
Her head tilted down and she snuggled closer.
Then she shared, "All my life, that's been my greatest fear. All my life, I feared that would happen. When I didn't take the injection as a teen, I had to crawl to the bathroom. It seemed to take forever, it probably did. I had to stop and breathe, over and over, to get control of my limbs again. It hurt so much."
Callum so disliked her words he wished she'd stop talking but he kept this wish to himself.
"I'd always been so scared." Her voice hitched as if she was fighting tears and he wanted to tip her face to his and comfort her but he let her go, sensing she needed to get this out but sensing more it was something he was going to want to hear.
He wasn't wrong.
"You want to know what I feared the most?" she whispered brokenly.
"What, baby doll?" he asked quietly.
"That it would happen when I was alone," she turned, lifted up and tucked her face into his neck while her other arm curled around him and she pressed to him tight. "I'm so happy I wasn't alone." She tilted her head back until her lips were at his jaw and she whispered, "You knew what to do. Thank you, my handsome wolf, for taking care of me."
He felt like howling his victory at that moment too.
Again, he didn't.
Instead, he tipped his head down and he kissed her, softly and tenderly, tasting the tears on her lips.
He broke the kiss but didn't break the connection of their lips when he muttered, "Always, my little one."
She closed her eyes tight and nodded.
He picked her up and walked to her guest bedroom, throwing back the covers, placing her in bed, joining her there, turning her to his body and pulling the covers over them.
"Umhellip;" she muttered. "What are you doing?"
"The bed's drenched, the towel ndash;"
"Oh," she mumbled before he finished.
"Sleep, baby doll, and when you wake up, it'll be Christmas."
She nodded, her head sliding on his chest.
He waited until her breath evened out which took some time and he wasn't surprised. She'd been through an ordeal. Waking from sleep in the throes of it, she wouldn't be eager to go back regardless of the fact that she drifted off quickly every night since the claiming.
For Callum, who only needed five hours of sleep a night normally, he sacrificed a few to lay alert for another episode.
And as he did so, he allowed his mind to process the fact that she called him "Cal".
And he replayed, again and again, her voice whispering, "my handsome wolf".
And when he finally allowed himself to join Sonia in sleep, regardless of their recent drama, he did it with a smile.
* * * * *
Callum's fingers brushed Sonia's hair away from her neck.
Then he leaned to her ear and said, "Wake up, honey. It's Christmas."
Her eyes fluttered but stayed closed. Then he watched her sniff and they opened.
She came up on an arm, her fingers clutching the covers to her br**sts and stared at the coffee mug in his hand.
She looked at him sitting beside her on the bed and breathed, her voice husky with sleep and surprise, "You made coffee?
He grinned at her and replied, "I was a bachelor for many years, Sonia. I know how to make coffee," and he handed her the mug.
Her eyes grew wide but she sat up in bed, tucking the covers around to conceal her body, and took it.
He put his hands in the bed on either side of her h*ps and lowered his face so it was close to hers. "Now, my queen, say lsquo;Merry Christmas' to your king."
She blinked then whispered, "Merry Christmas."
He touched his lips to hers and whispered back, "Merry Christmas."
Then he pulled away, leaned down and picked up the lavishly wrapped box he'd brought into the room.
Her eyes didn't go wide this time. They nearly popped out of her head.
"What's that?" Sonia uttered on a choked cry.
He set it in her lap and reached for his own mug which he'd placed on the nightstand, saying, "Telling you, I think, would break about fifteen Christmas commandments."
She watched him sip from his mug like she'd never seen him before.
When she seemed unwilling to move, he prompted, "Open it."
She hesitated a moment, as if she'd never had a present bestowed on her and had no idea what to do, then set aside her mug and opened the box.
She pulled out a wisp of dove gray satin, shook it out along the bed and stared at it.
It was a full-length nightgown with thin straps that criss-crossed at the back and a full skirt that settled on the bed luxuriously.
"It'shellip; it's ndash;" she stammered.
Callum cut her off, informing her, "Every Christmas morning, when we were pups, Mac and Regan left pillowcases stuffed full at the end of our beds." Her mesmerized gaze slowly swung to him as he kept talking. "We were allowed to tear into them immediately. In them was candy, toys, all sorts, but always a new pair of pajamas that we had to put on before going downstairs to unwrap the presents under the tree." He gently pulled the soft fabric from her fingers and ordered, "Lift your arms, baby doll."
Almost dreamily, she lifted her arms and he slid the nightgown over her head then put his hands under her arms and lifted her free of the bed, placing her on her feet in front of him. The nightgown glided down her body to swirl elegantly to her ankles.
A perfect fit.
His mother could definitely shop.
He allowed his hands to slide across the cool material that covered her warm, soft body then he bent down and picked up another box wrapped in the same extravagant manner, bigger than the first.
He gave it to her murmuring, "Now this."
She gazed at him looking baffled a moment before she took the box, placed it on the bed and tore off the wrapping. She pulled it open and gasped. Her fingers fisted in the material in the box and she lifted the winter white cashmere robe to her face. She was holding it in both hands against her nose and mouth so, when she turned to him, all he could see was the amazement shining in her green eyes.
He couldn't stop his chuckle as he pulled her into his arms, looked down at her and teased, "Honey, are you going to eat it or wear it?"
She pulled the robe from her mouth and muttered worshipfully, "Wear it. Definitely wear it."
Still chuckling at the tone of her voice, he touched his forehead to hers and released her so she could don her robe.
Clutching the lapels across her chest, she raised bright eyes to his, "Ihellip; this is sohellip; Ihellip; I don't know what to say, Callum."
He felt disappointment nag at him when she used his full name. She'd called him Cal last night.
He beat the feeling back, hoping, in time, it would come again.
He curled a hand at her neck, using his thumb to stroke the underside of her jaw and prompted, "Do you like them?"
She nodded enthusiastically.
He grinned and finished, "That's all you need to say."
She moved forward the step that separated them and slid her arms around him, her cheek at his chest, her arms going tight.
His hand at her jaw shifted into her hair and held her face against him.
"Now this is definitely better than a nod," he told her, his voice gruff.
She emitted a short, happy giggle, keeping his body tight in her arms and tipped back her head to look at him. "I'm being very rude. I should say thank you."
"I don't know. This doesn't feel rude," he teased and she giggled quietly again.
"Can I give you your gifts now?" she asked and his eyebrows went up.
"Do you think that's all you're going to get?"
She blinked again, adorably, and then breathed, "There's more?"
Callum used her hair to tip her head back, bent his own and against her lips he murmured, "Yes, baby doll, there's more."
Then he gave her a Good Morning Merry Christmas kiss.
She was blinking again when he lifted his lips form hers.
He was chuckling again when he let her go, reached beyond her to nab her coffee cup and he handed it to her. Then he grabbed her hand and guided her into their bedroom.
Callum had been up awhile. Long enough not only to make coffee but also to deal with the mess the soggy towel made of their bed and collect the presents his mother had stashed in the garage yesterday while they were sledding and place them under the tree.
When they arrived in the room, Sonia stared at the tree like a thirty-seven year old girl who just learned there was a Santa Claus.
Sonia's shining eyes came to his and she smiled, "I'm guessing this means you like Christmas too?"
He slid an arm around her shoulders and grinned down at her. "All my people enjoy any occasion that gives them an excuse to celebrate. But this," he gestured to the tree, "is because you like Christmas so much."
Her expression changed and she was gazing at him like she did last night, like she was trying to read him, understand him, assess the validity of his words.
And, just as she did last night, she must have liked what she saw for she melted into him.
"Let's have Christmas," she suggested in a soft voice with soft eyes looking up at him.
"Let's have Christmas," he agreed on a murmur, bending his head to touch his mouth to hers.
He went to the bed, threw all her pillows on the floor by the tree and they sat on them, Sonia declaring excitedly that this year she got to "play Santa Claus".
"You can do it next year," she assured him as she started organizing packages with what appeared to be unbridled joy.
Watching her, Callum decided that next year, and every year, since she obviously had so much fun doing it, Sonia would play Santa Claus.
Callum found, to his delighted surprise, that she was far more generous with him than any of her friends and neighbors. Callum also found that she liked clothes a great deal more than he suspected seeing as she hadn't worn the same outfit twice in the three weeks they'd been together. He had new cords, shirts, belts, jeans, sweaters and even a new, stylish, brown leather jacket with a thick, insulating layer which would be perfect when they got back to Scotland. Clearly, these gifts were what were in the copious deliveries that she rushed to the door to confiscate from whichever of his wolves had accepted it before she ran upstairs with the packages but came back down empty-handed.
His mother had followed the same bent, buying Sonia a variety of new clothing except, unlike her normal gear, all of this was more durable and meant to be layered for easier use going in and outside in cold temperatures. Regan also bought her bath salts, lotions and things to wear in her hair.
Sitting amongst the discarded paper, ribbon, bows and boxes with piles of stash by both of them, Callum looked around and muttered, "We're going to need another year to use all this stuff."
Sonia, sitting with her ass to her calves, leaned forward and beamed, "I know! Isn't it great?"
What was great, Callum thought, looking in his queen's shining, happy eyes, was that they were done unwrapping and now they could move onto an even more enjoyable part of the morning.
Therefore, he reached for her and pulled her off her calves, into his arms and buried his face in her neck.
His lips trailing up to her ear, he heard her say, "You're not quite done."
He lifted his head and looked at her only to see she suddenly appeared apprehensive.
"What is it?" he asked cautiously, not happy that the shining light had died in her eyes and anxiety had replaced it.
"You have one more present," she whispered like she didn't want to say the words.
She took a deep breath, pulled out of his arms, stood up and started digging in the branches of the tree. She found what she was looking for and gracefully dropped to her knees. She held out a small wrapped box topped with a large bow that engulfed it.
He took it and unwrapped it while she spoke uncertainly, "I didn't know, you know, if I should but I thoughthellip;" She hesitated. "Well, then I thought I should. But now, I'm thinkinghellip;" She paused again as he pulled the jeweler's box out of the wrapping, allowing the paper to fall unheeded to the floor and flipped the box open with his thumb "You don't have to wear it!" she finished on a strangled cry.
In the box was a wide, simple, gold, human man's wedding band.
Staring at the often neglected symbol of another culture's connection between male and female, Callum felt something shift in him so huge it was as if the entire room moved. His chest tightened as did his gut but his mind blanked of everything but that f**king ring.
His eyes moved to Sonia.
"You don't have to wear it," she repeated on a whisper.
He used his forefinger to lift the ring from its satin bed, dropped the box but pointed his finger at Sonia.
"Put it on me," he ordered, his voice so thick it was almost harsh.
She studied him uneasily for a moment before scooting forward on her knees, taking the ring from his forefinger and grasping his left hand. Then she slid the ring on his ring finger.
He stared at the gold gleaming against his skin.
"It fits," she said softly and his eyes moved to hers "Umhellip;" she mumbled, "Merry Christmas."
Before his brain told his body to do it, Callum surged up, his arms going around her, taking her with him as he propelled them to the floor, twisting so he landed on his back and Sonia on him.
Then he wrapped his hand in her hair and crushed her mouth down on his in a bruising, possessive kiss as he rolled his weight onto hers, pillows cushioning them, wrapping paper crinkling all around.
Then he took his wife on the floor amongst discarded Christmas paper and boxes and he did that in a bruising, possessive way that she could not misread or misunderstand.
Even so, when it was over, their breathing had steadied, her limbs were wrapped around him and he was still seated inside her but up with his forearm in the pillow he'd tucked under her head. He was running the tips of his fingers across the features of her face, she still asked tentatively, "I take it you like the ring."
His eyes captured hers and he growled, "Yes, I f**king like it."
The doubt clouding her eyes disappeared, a hint of a smile touched her mouth and she whispered, "I'm glad you like it."
He was bending his head to kiss her again, her head was tilting to let him when the doorbell rang.
Callum stopped his descent.
Sonia blinked up at him. "Who could that be?"
He knew who it was.
"Our family," he replied and when her eyes grew wide he explained simply, "It's Christmas."
The doorbell rang again and when it did Callum regretted his decision to give her the exact opposite of her lonesome Christmases past.
That was until he felt her hand at the side of his head, her thumb sweeping along his cheekbone and he heard her soft voice say, "No, it's the best Christmas I've had in years."
Callum gazed at the tender gratitude gleaming in his mate's eyes only a second before he slanted his head and did what he'd intended to do moments before.
The doorbell rang three more times before the door was opened.
* * * * *
"Fucking hell, Cal, is that a wedding band?" Calder practically shouted at him from across the dining room table.
His family, and hers, had arrived bearing shopping bags stuffed full of even more presents. Everyone got a cup of coffee while Callum started a fire in the fireplace in the living room, Ryon started one in the dining room and Sonia turned on Christmas music. Then they had Christmas around Sonia's downstairs tree before Sonia and Callum went upstairs and dressed in all new clothes. After that, Regan and Sonia made breakfast. It was Sonia's recipe. Crepes filled with cream cheese sweetened and flavored with almonds and citrus, drenched in a sweet, slightly alcoholic citrus syrup and sprinkled with roasted almonds. His wife, he was pleased to note, when she had a mind to do it, could cook. It was f**king glorious.
Calder's exclamation came after breakfast while everyone was still seated at the table.
Sonia was walking back into the room with full mugs of coffee for the both of them and she stopped dead at Calder's words as everyone at the table, which was littered with their breakfast dishes, turned to look at Callum's left hand.
"Yes," Callum replied calmly, pushed his chair back and reached forward, snagging Sonia with an arm around her h*ps and pulling her to him at the same time he divested her of his mug of coffee.
"Our males don't wear wedding bands," Caleb declared, his eyes looking at the ring as if it was a rotting sinew wound around his finger.
"One of them does," Callum returned firmly, carefully seating Sonia's stiff body in his lap under the studiously remote gaze of Gregor and the openly annoyed gaze of Yuri as well as everyone else.
"For God's sake, why?" Calder demanded to know.
"Because, this morning, for Christmas, Sonia gave it to me," Callum answered.
"It's not our way," Caleb announced dismissively.
"Maybe not, but it's our way," Callum stated forcefully, making his point by drawing Sonia nearer and beginning to lose his patience as Sonia's body didn't lose its rigidity. "My mate is human. This is their symbol. It means something to Sonia therefore it means something to me."
"But, what happens when ndash;" Caleb started but Callum cut his brother off, knowing what he was going to say. Their males didn't ever wear rings because they'd lose them if they needed to transform or the rings might do harm during the change to wolf.
"Caleb, let it go," Callum ordered.
"But ndash;" Caleb began again.
"Let it go," Callum bit out.
Caleb snapped his mouth shut.
"You don't have to wear it," Sonia said quietly and Callum's head twisted to look at her.
"Did you buy it to sit in a box?" Callum asked.
"Wellhellip;" she started hesitantly. "No."
"You bought it because you wanted me to wear it," he stated and she pulled in breath then nodded. "So I'm going to f**king wear it." His gaze sliced through his brothers and he warned, "Not another word."
Caleb and Calder both looked away.
Regan and Ryon both stared at Callum and Sonia and they were grinning broadly.
Gregor's lips were twitching.
Yuri looked like he'd just drunk a mouthful of sour milk.
It was Yuri's look that dissipated Callum's temper and once he relaxed, Sonia relaxed against him.
"What's going to be funny is," Regan began, still smiling but now at Caleb and Calder, "when you two find your lifemates and you two find out what's important and what's not. Then we get to give you a hard time by reminding you of your behavior right about now."
"Regan," Callum cautioned, "the subject is closed."
"I just want to declare the right to say lsquo;I told you so' at a later date," Regan shot back and Sonia emitted a soft, stifled laugh.
Callum decided that since the festive mood had been put on hold for a while, he might as well go with it and get what he had to do over with.
He looked at Ryon and informed him, "Sonia had a turn last night."
Sonia got stiff in his arms again and murmured, "Callum."
But Ryon was no longer smiling as he queried, "A turn?"
He said these two words at the same time Gregor said them and Yuri's body grew visibly tight.
"That's what her doctor called it," Callum told them. "A turn."
"Really, it isn't necessary to alarm them. It wasn't that bad," Sonia put in and, at that, Callum's head twisted to look at her again.
"It wasn't that bad?" Callum asked in a dangerous voice.
"Wellhellip;" she drew out the word as her eyes grew wider upon looking at his face.
Then, astutely, she shut her mouth.
"What happened?" Gregor queried on a barely there snap.
"Her blood heated and she was in extreme pain. She couldn't even endure touch," Callum informed the vampire and Gregor's eyes went to Sonia.
In an openly paternal voice denoting barely controlled patience, he said, "As I've explained time and again, my dear, you must not miss an injection."
"I didn't," Sonia replied, Gregor's eyes narrowed and Callum watched him closely.
"That's impossible," Gregor noted. "The doctor assured me that, as long as you take the injection, you'll feel no physical manifestation of the disease."
"It's not impossible because it happened last night," Callum put in and Gregor's mouth got hard.
"I'll be having a word with Dr. Mortenson then. This won't do," Gregor snapped. Definitely snapped, his patience was strained beyond his capacity to control it and his anger was palpable.
Both of which, coming from Gregor, were surprising responses.
He either cared about Sonia, Callum thought, and cared a great deal or he was angry that whatever he was injecting her with wasn't working or side effects had developed that would make Sonia, and Callum, question the treatment.
"The doctor has ordered blood work which Sonia and I are going to the hospital to see to shortly," Callum announced and then he turned to Ryon. "From this point on, anyone who's assigned to Sonia will have advanced medical training. We won't tell them why but they'll need to be able to administer an injection." His eyes moved around the table and he went on, "And everyone at this table will learn how to do it." He looked at Sonia. "And you'll carry your medication with you at all times and, if you need it, you'll tell whoever is with you where to find it and that they should give it to you." She opened her mouth to speak but Callum looked to Ryon and finished, "And I want a supply available everywhere we might possibly go."
"Callum really," Sonia called his attention to her. "Isn't that going a little overboard?"
"I just witnessed it," he retorted. "You experienced it and you can ask me that?"
"But ndash;" she started.
"You'll not endure that again," he proclaimed, thinking, as he was king and when he proclaimed something people tended to listen (always), that was the end of it.
This was Sonia so he thought wrong.
"But ndash;" she repeated.
"Little one ndash;" he began.
"Seriously, Callum, it's not ndash;"
"Sonia," Callum stated firmly, "we're not discussing it."
She glared at him mutinously and she did this for a while.
