Betrayal

 

Walking down the hall toward the kitchen, Callum heard the three women’s voices filled with laughter just as he smelled the three distinct scents.

Two wolves.

One Sonia.

As he turned the corner to enter the room, Sonia, no longer hiding her gifts, was already looking toward the door expectantly, a small smile on her face.

Callum smiled back.

She was sitting at a stool at the counter, a mug of coffee cupped in both hands. She had her long hair pulled back from her face with a wide, pale pink band and she was wearing the cashmere robe he bought her for Christmas as well a pair of thick, pale pink socks. Her face was free of makeup and he thought she’d never looked lovelier, not simply because she was, but because, since their blowout fight that afternoon a week and a half before, she’d changed.

As he walked into the room, Callum nodded to Mara and Callista but he went directly to his mate, getting close, and when he did she tipped her head back to look at him.

“Hey,” she said softly, her eyes warm on him and that single word made his cock jerk.

He threaded his fingers in her thick soft hair and bent his mouth to hers.

“Hey,” he replied against her lips before he kissed her lightly.

When he lifted his head, her cheeks were pink but her eyes showed her disappointment.

Satisfied with her reaction, Callum grinned.

Her gaze dropped down to his grin and she emitted a delicate fluttering sigh.

Loving that sound, Callum’s hand twisted reflexively but gently in her hair.

“Do you want coffee?” she asked.

No. He didn’t want coffee.

He wanted to order Mara and Callista out of the room and he wanted to lift Sonia up on the kitchen counter and do things to his queen that, just from the memories, would make certain that pink stayed in her cheeks any time she was having coffee with her new friends in this room.

“Yes,” he answered.

His fingers glided through her hair as she put her mug down, got up, her body brushing his, but she didn’t go to the coffeepot immediately. She stopped, went up on the tips of her toes, kissed the underside of his jaw, and then she went to the coffeepot.

“Big day tomorrow,” Mara commented as Callum leaned a hip against the counter and watched Sonia make him a mug of coffee.

“Mm,” Callum replied, his mind on his mate.

“I can’t wait,” Callista remarked. “My house is full. Every room, every couch. Even some in sleeping bags on the floors. The whole town is buzzing with excitement.”

“I know!” Mara exclaimed. “The place is heaving. Last night, Drogan and I took the pups up to our roof just so we could look all around at the campfires dotting the hills in the dark.” She clasped her hands together and breathed, “It was so beautiful, it was like a dream.”

Sonia returned and handed Callum his coffee after which she slid an arm around his waist and rested her weight into his side. When she did, he pulled her closer with his arm around her shoulders.

Sonia looked to the women and stated, “It’s seriously crazy. Every day for days, more and more fires. I can’t believe so many people are out in this snow and cold in tents.”

Callista grinned at her. “Our people don’t mind the cold.”

“They’d have to not,” Sonia replied. “It was below freezing last night. Even in the castle, Callum kept the fire going all night in our room to fight back the chill.”

“I’ll bet he did,” Mara muttered with comically wide eyes to Callista and Callum watched Sonia’s cheeks go pink again, for Mara was right. Callum kept the fire going in the fireplace but he kept Sonia warm under the hides in other ways.

Callista noticed Sonia’s blush and she teased, “Mara, you forget our dainty queen is a respectable human. They don’t talk over coffee about all the best ways to fight back a chill.”

“Maybe not, but I’m going to have words with Drogan. It’s been ages since he’s been able to go all night fighting back the chill.”

Callista and Mara burst into hysterical laughter and Callum glanced down to see Sonia, not in the least offended, smiling at them.

She must have felt his eyes for she tipped her head back to look at him and announced cheerfully, “Mara and Callie think I’m a prude.”

“You are a prude, Sonny!” Mara shrieked and then her gaze moved to Callum. “Still, after all this time, no one knows her claiming story! It should be illegal.”

“I agree.” Callista nodded mock soberly. “Illegal.”

Sonia calmly grabbed her coffee cup, brought it to her mouth, and mumbled into it, “Lucky for me, my husband’s king.”

That was when Callum burst out laughing, curling his wife into his front. She dropped her mug and tipped her head back to grin at him.

“Find me when you’re done here, wife,” he ordered quietly, his hand tensing on her shoulder on the word “wife.”

Her eyes flashed briefly and she nodded. He touched his mouth to hers, and with another nod to Mara and Callista, he left the room and went to his study.

Sitting at his desk, trying to focus his mind on the hundreds of matters that should be taking his attention, chiefly the victory celebration that was taking place tomorrow, he found his task impossible.

His eyes slid to the window and he saw for once the sun shining bright upon the snow.

He turned his chair to face the view and his gaze became as distracted as his mind as he looked at the over-bright vista but didn’t see it.

The last week and a half had been a revelation.

Ryon was correct. Female humans needed communication and giving it to Sonia had made a world of difference. Not knowing her hardly at all before claiming her, he’d not known how much she was holding onto in that head of hers.

And thus holding back.

Now he knew.

Fucking hell, but he knew.

She was like an all new Sonia, and if he thought the old Sonia was perfect, he’d been wrong.

This Sonia, sitting in her robe with her hair pulled back in her kitchen with her new friends, having a laugh, getting him coffee, muttering jokes in her dry humor, and leaning into him was fucking perfect.

And this all worked exceptionally well for Callum. In fact, he couldn’t have been fucking happier.

His mate was meant to be there for him to talk to, to work out his frustrations with, and he’d found, since he’d never done it with another female, human or she-wolf, it was an extraordinary release.

Telling Sonia about Desdemona, about the letters he had to write, the order he had to give, all the while feeling her soft body against his as they lay in their bed, it was like being liberated from a mental prison. He could and did talk to Ryon and his brothers, but nothing was like Sonia’s face gentling and her body melting into his as he let that shit go. Nothing. He’d never experienced anything like it. It was beautiful.

But, with Sonia, it was more.

Nearly three weeks ago, Ryon had asked how lucky he could get and Callum had thought he was lucky then with the mate destiny had chosen for him.

Now he couldn’t fathom the depths of his fortune.

 

* * * * *

 

It started the day after their fight, after she’d had her breakfast and he’d given her the injection. He took her back to his study and sat her on his lap as he bent to the task of writing more letters.

She sat quietly for a short while then she started to arrange things on his desk. Then more things. Then she slid off his lap and started tidying in earnest.

He allowed this. Mainly because his mind was on other matters, but also because he’d noticed she was very organized and if she wanted to organize his desk, he’d let her.

Callum, he found out too late, should have paid attention. Though, in the end, he was glad he didn’t.

“What’s this?” she asked and he looked up to see her head tilted to the side and she’d flipped a piece of paper to face him.

Callum’s gaze dropped to the paper.

It was the report that Caleb had sent him with the list of the names of the fallen warriors, their next of kin, and the kin’s address. About a third of the way down the list had tick marks, letters he’d already written.

“Those are the fallen, honey,” he explained softly.

Her brows drew together in confusion and she started, “The fall—?”

Realization dawned, her face paled, and her hand pressed the list to her chest. He stood as she flipped the list around and he saw her eyes scanning it. She stepped back when he stepped forward, not raising her head to look at him when she did.

Callum stopped.

“I know him,” she whispered and flipped the list back to Callum. Peering over it, she pointed to a name then her head snapped back and her eyes caught his. “I met him at the mansion. We talked a couple of times. He was very sweet to me.”

There was more than one name of one wolf she talked to a couple of times at the mansion on that list. Which meant, from the troubled expression clear to read on her face, Callum had to get it away from her.

He held his hand out and ordered, “Baby doll, give me the list.”

She defied him and took another step back, shaking her head, and she looked at the list again.

He started moving toward her but she kept moving back, her eyes scanning.

“Sonia—”

He stopped speaking and moving when she halted and gasped. Her head snapped back again, this time the movement sharper, her eyes were wide, her face ashen.

“Honey—” he began but she cut him off and when she did her voice was trembling.

“Tell me there are two of your men named Waring.”

Fuck!

He moved faster but she retreated just as fast, skittering across the room, her gaze locked to his all the while begging, “Tell me, Callum. Tell me that’s a common name for your people.”

It was rare his people’s names were common. Since wolves didn’t have last names, their parents often had to get creative. At the very least, they carried a name that no one in their town or village shared.

Callum had lived over three hundred years and he’d never met another wolf named Waring.

Except the one Sonia knew.

She ran into the wall but lifted her arm, hand out, palm up, to ward him off.

“Tell me, Callum.”

He ignored her arm and her palm hit his chest as he got close and framed her face with his hands.

Then, trying to be gentle with her, he whispered, “I can’t, little one.”

She closed her eyes tight and turned her head away.

She didn’t open her eyes when she whispered back, “He saved my life.”

He did.

But Waring did more than that.

“I know,” Callum shared. “He saved mine too.”

Her eyes jerked back to his and Callum saw stark terror mixed with her grief.

“What?” she breathed.

He swiftly debated the merits of telling her the story but her hands came up to his at her face and her fingers curled tightly around them, fisting the paper in her hand as she did so.

Then she demanded loudly, “What?”

Callum sighed then quickly he explained, “I’d been targeted. I was defending myself against six attackers, maybe more. Waring drew several of them away, dispatched two, but was killed by the third before I could aid him.”

“Oh my God,” she breathed in horror as her fingers tensed.

“Honey, it’s war,” he explained gently.

His gentle explanation had no effect for she repeated, “Oh my God.”

Before he could move to comfort her, she tore violently away from his hands and stepped to the side.

“Who’s this?” she demanded to know, turning the paper and pointing at the name beside Waring’s.

Cautiously, Callum answered, “That’s his mother.”

“Right,” Sonia snapped and walked stiffly to his desk, sat herself in his chair, and rolled herself forward.

Callum watched as she grabbed a piece of paper embossed with his crest at the top and started writing.

Silently, he walked to stand beside her and looked down to watch as she wrote:

Dear Michaela,

By now, you’ve likely heard of me. I’m Sonia, queen to Callum, and I knew your son.

In the few weeks I’d known him, he did several kindnesses for me, two very important. One of those saved the life of my mate.

He also made me laugh.

There is nothing I can write in this letter which will help you during this time of sorrow. But I hope it gives you some small measure of comfort to know that there are two beings very grateful for the fact that they shared this glorious planet with your son, even if it was for a short time.

Please know you and your family are in my and Callum’s thoughts.

Forever indebted to your handsome, brave, fun-loving son, Waring,

-Sonia

Once she’d finished writing her extraordinary letter, writing it without hesitation or difficulty, she folded it, dug through his desk until she found an envelope, inserted the letter, sealed it, and handwrote the address.

Then her head tipped back to look up at him. Callum saw the trail of wetness on her cheeks and the tears still shining in her eyes.

All right, it was abundantly clear she didn’t write it without difficulty.

“Okay, Callum,” she said in a trembling voice, picking up the report filled with names of dead soldiers and shaking it at him. “Who’s next?”

At first, Callum didn’t move.

There weren’t many times in his long life that Callum, king of the wolves, was uncertain what to do, but in the face of his queen’s profound but poised compassion, that was one of them.

So he did what his instincts told him to do. He leaned down to his mate, curled his fingers around her neck, and marked her hair with his temple. Then he kissed her softly on her lips.

He pulled her out of his chair, sat in it, tugged her gently into his lap, and together they wrote letters to the kin of the fallen. Callum writing the letters, Sonia sitting in his lap, addressing them, ticking off the names, and writing personal notes to the next of kin of the few wolves she knew, however briefly.

Her assistance made it a less difficult task, if not a less wretched one.

And, in that day and age of phones and e-mail, news of her notes, especially those received quickly by the kin of his Royal Guard who lived in the village (including Waring’s mother), spread widely and it spread rapidly.

Just like he expected but much more swiftly, in fact, before most of his people even met their queen, they fell in love with her.

 

* * * * *

 

The new Sonia continued to emerge when, three nights later in their bedroom, the firelight dancing on her skin, her face tucked into his neck, her body straddling his, their physical connection still held but their breath having recovered from their orgasms, she lifted up with her forearms on his chest.

Her eyes moved over his face before they caught his and she asked, somewhat timidly and even with a hint of embarrassment, “What’s your last name?”

He was surprised at her question but he shouldn’t have been. Most immortals, including vampires (although Gregor and Yuri had adopted one and they did it for her) didn’t have surnames. But humans, of course, did.

“My people don’t carry surnames,” he informed her.

She looked surprised for a moment as she whispered, “Oh,” and her gaze drifted away as she went on, “This is a problem.”

His arms about her gave her a squeeze, bringing her attention back to him before he queried, “Why?”

“Well, in my world, we do have surnames,” she told him. “People will expect you to have one and they’ll expect me to take it or explain that I didn’t.” She sighed and finished, “Which I guess is what I’ll have to do.”

There was one thing he liked about the human’s mating ritual, the female accepting the male’s name. Callum liked this not because it denoted possession, but because it signified the birth of a single unit, a family.

He found at that moment to his further surprise he wished he had a name to give her.

It was with delight when he heard that Sonia had an even better idea.

“Mara told me your father’s full name was McDonagh,” she remarked.

“It was,” Callum confirmed.

“Well,” she started, her gaze drifting away and her manner again became tentative before she looked back to him. “That’s a last name for my people.”

“I know,” he replied.

“Well,” she went on after giving a brief nod, “I thought…” she hesitated then forged ahead, “if you don’t mind, and, um, if Regan doesn’t, maybe, when we’re in my world, I can tell people my new name is Sonia Arlington-McDonagh.”

At her quiet faltering words, he had the same exact reaction he had when she gave him his ring. Something shifted inside him, so big it was as if the bed moved. His gut and chest tightened and all he could think of was her being known by the name of Sonia Arlington-McDonagh.

She stared at him and her face grew worried before she whispered, “I don’t have to—”

But he cut her off by rolling her to her back so he was pinning her to the bed, his hips snug between her legs, his cock still inside her and hardening again as his mouth took hers in a hungry kiss.

When he lifted his head, both their breath was coming faster.

His eyes locked on hers and he decreed, “You’ll be known by that amongst my people as well.”

Then he started moving slowly inside her, and automatically, her hips moved with his.

One of her hands glided up his back as her other one came to rest at the side of his face before she said softly, “I take it you like that idea.”

He stopped moving, slowly pulled out and surged back in, burying himself to the hilt before he growled against her mouth, “Yes, I fucking like it.”

At his surge, her arm had clasped around him, her knees had come up to press against his sides and the fingers of her other hand had slid into his hair.

But she grinned against his lips.

At her reaction, his hips started to move faster.

Her lips went to his ear, and beginning to pant, she breathed, “Mara also told me you’re known as ‘The Wolf.’”

His body stilled and at his reaction her head fell back to the pillows so she could gaze at him curiously.

“Sorry?” he asked, a different feeling seizing him.

He’d planned carefully with Regan and Ryon as advisors as to when to share the information with Sonia that his people were werewolves. Her reaction could be anything and Callum wanted to control it.

Werewolves were fantasy creatures to humans and not good ones. Vicious, murdering, and abhorrent, something to be frightened of, the villain in a horror story.

Back in the day when wolves were less careful about who witnessed the transformation, humans had sometimes seen it. And, being humans, instead of trying to understand it, they feared it.

And hunted it.

Which was one of the reasons the rebellion they’d been fighting for millennia had remained so staunch in their beliefs that humans should be enslaved.

Sonia might fear what his people could do, and unless he took the time to allow her to experience the fact that wolves were friendly, good-humored, and kind, there was little doubt she would.

He also wanted their bond to strengthen. He felt confidence in their connection but this would be a shock. Callum wanted her life thoroughly entwined with his in a way she couldn’t imagine it without him, no matter what secrets and how great they were that he may hold.

Regan and Ryon had agreed with his plan and it was even Ryon’s suggestion to keep this knowledge from Sonia until she was securely inserted into their fold.

However, after their blowout, Callum had concerns about this plan.

Sonia seemed to prefer to understand what was happening to and around her. The longer he waited, the less it felt he was protecting her, the more it felt like a lie.

So much so, he’d begun to feel something he’d never experienced before. A twinge of something unpleasant. Almost as if he feared she’d discover his secret and consider his keeping it from her a betrayal.

Werewolves were half man. They weren’t immune to fucking up, say, taking to too much gaming or drink. Though wolves never strayed. Infidelity to your mate was unheard of. Before you found your mate, finding play partners (and numerous of them) for both males and females was the norm. After you found your mate, never. Callum had known many a wolf to succumb to the weaknesses of drink and gambling, and in so doing, betray their mate through deceits. And, with a she-wolf, it was never pretty and it was often the female would never get over it.

Living an eternity paying for a betrayal was a daunting prospect.

Living an eternity expecting another one, he reckoned, would be far worse.

Callum didn’t want anything to mar the perfection of what he had with Sonia.

And he didn’t want her to think he’d betrayed her, not for an instant, but especially not for the short time that represented her eternity.

He didn’t want this so much he actually thought that unpleasant feeling was that he feared it and fear was not something that he’d experienced before.

Further, he didn’t fucking like how it felt.

“Mara told me you’re known as ‘The Wolf,’” she repeated quietly, watching him closely.

“Honey—” he started.

She interrupted with, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I—” he began again but she lifted her mouth and pressed it to his at the same time she tilted her hips and he slid in deeper. Both felt so good, his word ended in a growl.

“I like wolves,” she whispered against his mouth and her hand put pressure in his hair. Her head tilted slightly to invite his kiss and her eyes turned hungry before she finished, “I like them a lot.”

Her enticement was nearly too much.

But the time had come. He had to tell her.

So, he said, “Baby doll—”

But she cut him off again, cut him off with the words that always shattered his control at the same time her sex clenched around his shaft, making her invitation a demand he couldn’t ignore.

“Fuck me, wolf.”

With another growl, Callum did as she asked, in three different positions, as hard and rough as both of them liked it.

It was so hard and rough and exhausting, by the time he forced her off her knees to her belly and settled between her widespread legs, his forearms tucked into her sides and his lips at her ear to whisper his secret, Sonia was fast asleep.

 

* * * * *

 

Two days later, Callum had still not found the appropriate time to explain things to Sonia.

The first day it was Sonia again who took his mind off his determination to share his secret.

After breakfast, as usual she wandered into his study. However this time she did it with a funny look on her face that Callum couldn’t quite read.

After their extensive play the night before, he’d left her arms that morning without waking her and started his day.

This was unusual. Since coming to the castle and giving her time to acclimatize, he’d usually wait for her to wake and he’d either take care of her or the both of them before he started his day.

However, he remembered her complaints of aching when he’d taken her “vigorously” when he brought her home, and as the night before had been nearly as vigorous, he’d decided she needed her rest.

It was also unusual when she walked to him and he turned his seat toward her to offer his lap that she didn’t immediately sit.

Instead she stopped, tilted her head to the side, and stared at him, seemingly mesmerized.

“What is it?” he asked but her body gave a soft jerk at his words as if he’d woken her from a daydream.

She bit her lip, looking indecisive, then she sank to her knees before him.

It was Callum’s turn to stare.

She put her hands to his knees and then she put pressure there to pull them apart.

Then, Callum watched, his cock responding instantly, as her pretty head dropped and she nuzzled his crotch with her face.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed and she lifted up, pressed her front to his groin, and placed her hands on his chest.

“You didn’t play with me this morning,” she accused quietly, her expression no longer unreadable but greedy.

Always in heat, his Sonia.

Clearly, the night before hadn’t been that vigorous.

Callum marked that knowledge in his mind and his fingers slid into her hair at the side to cup her head.

“No,” was all he had the capacity to say.

Her hand dropped to his crotch to palm it softly and she whispered, “Can I play with you?”

“Fuck yes,” he gritted through his teeth and she smiled.

Then she dropped her head and he watched as she pulled his sweater up, exposing his stomach, and put her mouth there, then it slid down while she undid his pants and freed him.

Without leading in to it, she gripped his rock-hard shaft with her hand and took him in her mouth, stroking and sucking simultaneously. Often, she’d lick while she stroked, her eyes would rise to catch his as she did so, and each time hers were hungrier, like she couldn’t get enough of him.

For his part, Callum didn’t take his eyes away from her for a second.

And what he saw was fucking beautiful.

It wasn’t much later when he’d had enough and roughly maneuvered her body so it was bent over his desk, pulled her jeans and underwear down her thighs, that he found she was so aroused by sucking him off that the minute he buried himself in her abundantly wet silkiness, she slammed back to receive him and cried out her instant release.

Callum didn’t long follow.

Allowing them both time to recover, Callum eventually righted their clothes. But it was Sonia that curled herself fully in his lap, pulling her legs up and bent to rest them against his front, her forehead tucked in his neck, her arm around him.

“Is that what you wanted me to do to you in your chair?” she asked softly.

It was.

But it was also far better because she did it of her own accord rather than because he told her to.

“Yes.”

“Mm,” she replied and snuggled closer.

Callum held his queen for a while then he resumed work.

Sonia didn’t move, just stayed cuddled close in his lap.

As he worked with his wife held close, Callum decided that day wasn’t the day to tell her his secret.

 

* * * * *

 

The next day, Callum didn’t have time to tell her because Caleb returned.

Regan had taken Sonia away for a more in-depth perusal of town, something which it was obvious Sonia wanted to do by the look of excitement on her face when Regan suggested it. So Callum allowed it.

While she was gone, he was holed up in his study with Caleb and Ryon discussing the aftermath of the rebellion, the cleanup of the Western Territories, the sweep across the various regions to locate and neutralize all remaining rebels that Calder was leading, and he’d lost track of time.

Regan had called explaining that she and Sonia were having dinner with Maraleena and Drogan in town and by the time Callum and his brethren emerged from his study it was late. It wasn’t only late, it was time for bed and Sonia hadn’t had her injection.

He went in search of her and found her alone in the knitting room. The fire obviously Regan had laid and started was burning, for Sonia had no clue how to start a fire. This was something Callum learned days earlier when he walked into their bedroom in the middle of her adorably frustrated attempts and she made him promise he’d teach her to do it. He had lied (not exactly a betrayal in his mind) and promised he would when he had no intention of doing it because if she didn’t ever learn, she’d have to find him to do it for her and he liked that idea.

She was standing at the window but she wasn’t looking out.

Her head was bent and she was watching the fingers of one hand at the other twisting the wedding bands he’d given her around and around.

Something struck him then and he stopped in the door, leaning a shoulder against the jamb, crossing his arms on his chest, and he studied her.

During their fight she had said that when she gave him his ring, she didn’t know if it meant anything to her.

He’d not called her on that. He was satisfied with the outcome of their altercation. There was no reason to dredge it up, process every word she’d said in anger when, from her behavior since then, she’d given every indication that she wasn’t only settling into her life with him splendidly but enjoying it thoroughly.

But now, watching her, her face thoughtful and far away, twisting those bands, which had meant nothing to him when he’d given them to her, but an hour later when he’d heard her call him “husband,” they meant everything, he felt a definite and acute unease. An unease akin to that unpleasant feeling he thought might be fear.

Without looking up, she said softly, “I know you’re there.”

“I know you know,” he replied.

She finally looked at him and her fingers stilled in their turning but they didn’t release the rings. “So why are you standing all the way over there?”

“I’m wondering what’s on your mind,” he told her truthfully.

She dropped her hand but wrapped her arms around her belly and explained, “What’s on my mind is, I’m wondering why my husband stopped in the doorway when he never stops in a doorway when I’m in a room. He always comes to me. So, what’s on my mind is, I’m wondering what’s on your mind.”

She was probably telling the truth.

Just not all of it.

He walked to her and when he arrived she slid her arms around his middle and leaned her body into his, tilting her head far back to look up at him.

It struck him then that she did this a great deal recently. Effortlessly putting her arms around him, leaning her weight into him. Before, her hugs and moments of affection were rare, and when they came seemed, compared to the recent ones, uncomfortable.

Now they were relaxed and natural and Callum preferred them greatly.

He returned the favor, wrapping her in his arms, pulling her deep in his body, and dipping his chin to look down at her.

“All right, Sonia, now what’s really on your mind?” he asked.

“I told you,” she fibbed.

“You weren’t standing at the window twisting my rings for the fuck of it,” he informed her, his voice meticulously even and calm, that unease he felt still acute.

She scanned his face. Then she sighed. It wasn’t the fluttering sigh that he loved. It was a frustrated sigh.

He knew this by the sound but he also knew it by the irate flash in her green eyes.

“You’re too perceptive,” she muttered, her voice just as irate, then she informed him of the obvious, “It’s annoying.”

He preferred his topic of conversation so he gave her a gentle squeeze and said warningly, “Sonia…”

“Oh all right,” she breathed out, her frustration still clear. Suddenly her eyes left his and she looked at his shoulder a moment before they came back. “Okay, Callum, what I was thinking was…” She hesitated a moment before stating, “And you can say no because, well, I’m sensing you’re not big on human stuff and, well, this is definitely human. Obviously I wouldn’t dream of asking you to go whole hog or anything, because considering, even for my Christmas party, you wore cords and a nice sweater…” She paused and went off tangent, “Though, the boots you wore were really nice that night. I liked them. You should wear—”

He couldn’t help it. He started chuckling and gave her another squeeze, cutting her off by saying, “Honey, your point?”

Her eyes got big a moment, she pulled in breath and whispered, “Right.” Then she went on swiftly, “What I was saying was, you don’t have to do the big thing for me, you know, even though, outside your sixteenth birthday, it’s the most important day in a girl’s life. But I wouldn’t ask you to wear the tuxedo and get a photographer and all that formal stuff, but can I…?” She looked at him, her eyes filled with discomfited yearning. “Would you mind if…?” She hesitated yet again and then forced out the words, “I know it isn’t the done thing, but at our Mating, can I at least wear a pretty white dress?”

He stared at her a second, thrown, because he had no fucking clue what she was on about. At Matings wolves would dress up but dressing up for wolves was just wearing nicer but still casual clothes.

Then, unusually slowly, it hit him. Her twisting her wedding rings, talking of tuxedos and formalities and the most important day of a girl’s life.

Fuck, she was talking about a human wedding.

Which, being his mate, she’d never get.

But, being his human wife, she would want.

And she wanted it and her wanting it meant she wanted him.

That unease sifted away leaving Callum feeling only the soft warmth of her body pressed to his and her arms around him.

“Baby doll—” he started.

“You can say no,” she blurted. “It’s probably a stupid idea. Your people will think…” Her eyes got big again and she said, “Oh no, would they be offended?”

One of his hands traveled up her back and tangled in her hair as his face got closer to hers. “No, they wouldn’t be offended. Wear whatever you want.”

He saw excitement light in her eyes for a second before it extinguished. “Will I look stupid?”

Callum grinned, pulling her tighter to him. “Impossible.”

“I don’t want them to think I’m holding on…I mean, I don’t want them to think I don’t take my responsibility—”

He cut her off. “They’ll think you’re proud of who you are and proud of who you’re bound to, both of which my people will find honorable.”

The excitement came back in a flash.

“Really?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Seriously?” she pressed both verbally and by pushing closer to his frame.

Callum bit back laughter at her adorable earnest look but he didn’t manage it entirely and still said through chuckling, “Yes, little one.”

She gazed at him as if looking for evidence of dishonesty.

Then her weight sagged into him, she put her cheek to his chest and she gave him a squeeze. “Good.”

He kissed the top of her head, enjoying the far different feeling he had now rather than the one he had when he first stood in the door to this room.

It was more than her embrace. It was more than the knowledge that she yearned to be tied to him through his rings, bearing his father’s name, adhering to the traditions of her people.

It was enjoying giving her something she very much desired.

Which meant what he had to do next hurt like a bitch.

“It’s past time for your injection.”

He felt her body tighten in his arms before she forced it to relax and he was glad he couldn’t see her eyes.

“I know,” she replied.

“Let’s go, baby doll.”

She nodded, her cheek sliding against his chest. She pulled away. He took her hand and guided her to their bathroom.

 

* * * * *

 

Callum shifted in his seat behind his desk and lifted his hand to his forehead pressing away the tension that formed there after the reminder of the injection.

Last week, he’d taken her to Aberdeen to visit the specialist who simply decreed that what Dr. Mortenson said about tolerance for the drug and life changes were to blame for her “turn.” He explained (three times) that there were no other treatments. He took more blood, which, again, came back normal. And he suggested they titrate off the morning dose, injecting half for a few days then stopping altogether.

“Let’s hope that works,” he said on a distracted doctorly smile while simultaneously writing notes.

Callum had wanted to break his jaw for it not working meant unendurable pain for his mate, which was what, through gritted teeth, he’d informed the doctor after he’d tersely called the man’s attention back to his patient and her husband.

“You know what to do now. Just give her another dose if she becomes symptomatic and go back to twice daily injections,” the doctor had replied calmly in the face of Callum’s controlled fury.

It was then Sonia had squeezed his hand and Callum made the decision not to throw the doctor out the window, which was the decision he’d made the instant before she’d squeezed his hand.

Luckily, the titrating had worked and Sonia hadn’t become symptomatic.

Then again, if it was stress and life changes that had affected the efficacy of the drug, she was settling in and hopefully they wouldn’t have another “turn.”

Callum heard Ryon approaching and his mind moved directly to what filled it any time it wasn’t filled with Sonia’s smile, her affection, her laughter, her kindness, her humor, her sweet little body and how it responded to him, her deepening connection to him and his family, and her fucking injection.

Where his mind moved also wasn’t to his duty as king.

It went to the fact that every day he didn’t tell her his secret, their life was becoming a lie.

Ryon came in on a smile and closed the door.

Since discovering Sonia had had her abilities her entire life, long enough for her father to explain she should hide them, they no longer held suspicions against the vampires.

However, they were also all aware that Sonia’s abilities rivaled theirs and clearly Ryon closing the heavy door meant there was something he wanted muted should Sonia be in hearing distance.

He approached Callum’s desk and sat opposite, declaring, “All is in place for tomorrow.”

Callum’s mouth got tight.

Ryon still felt Sonia needed time with the wolves and was against Callum telling her. They’d had words about it. Callum disagreed and decided he’d bloody well tell her when the right time arose.

Unfortunately that hadn’t happened and tomorrow hundreds of wolves would be celebrating in the streets.

Shit happened. Especially with wolves.

Therefore, like Drogan, Maraleena, and Callista, his Royal Guard had been warned by Ryon that Sonia was to be protected from witnessing any transformation or talk of werewolves and tomorrow everywhere she went she would be with him, his family, or under escort of his guard.

“I don’t like this,” Callum told his cousin. “I’ll find time to tell her tonight.”

“You should wait until after tomorrow,” Ryon differed. “She’ll enjoy tomorrow. She’ll see the true wolf nature. You need to give her more time.”

Callum watched his cousin, again questioning his motives when it came to Callum’s mate.

“What makes you think she needs more time?” Callum asked.

Ryon grinned. “Call it instinct.”

Callum didn’t find anything amusing.

“Have you not noticed the change in her?” he queried.

Ryon’s expression turned serious and he shared, “Yes, Cal, I have and I don’t fucking trust it.”

Callum felt his blood run cold. “And why the fuck not?”

Ryon shook his head and his eyes went vague as did his tone when he said, “I can’t put my finger on it but I feel she’s holding back.”

It was then Callum’s hands clenched into fists.

First, if Sonia was holding anything back then the true Sonia would be beyond perfection, which was impossible.

Second, because his cousin was still clearly keeping a close eye on his mate and he didn’t like it.

And last, because it felt like Ryon was trying to make Callum doubt his wife.

“I think,” Callum said calmly and evenly, a tone that Ryon knew and it caught his immediate attention therefore his distracted gaze cleared and focused on Callum, “that perhaps you should stop worrying about my mate so fucking much.”

“Cal—”

Callum leaned forward and said deceptively softly, “She’s my mate, Ry. Mine.”

“Cal—”

“Leave it,” Callum warned and Ryon leaned forward as well.

“Have you been talking to her as I told you to?”

“Leave it.”

“Cal, have you?”

“Yes, I fucking have. Now, fucking leave it!” Callum bit out.

Ryon scowled at him then sat back. Callum watched the muscle work in his cousin’s jaw for long moments before Ryon spoke again.

“You should know. I’ve given a vial of her medicine to a friend of mine who knows someone who can analyze it.”

Callum sat back too. “I thought we’d covered this. She’s had her abilities since birth.”

“I know. It doesn’t hurt to check though,” Ryon returned.

Callum stared at him before asking, “What are you thinking?”

“Well,” Ryon replied, still aggravated but, Callum sensed, not because of their earlier exchange of words. “I’ve had my fair share of experience with humans. I’ve never run across anything like her abilities.”

“Yes, we’ve had this conversation before.”

“It’s unusual.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Ry—”

“You don’t protect a life-threatening condition behind nearly unhackable passwords, Cal. Something’s wrong here. I don’t like it and I haven’t had time to give it my full attention.”

Callum sighed. “You do if she’s destined queen to a secret society and that knowledge in the wrong hands would make her vulnerable. She’s had her gifts since birth, her father knew about them for fuck’s sake. She and I have talked about it. Her father likely made some explanation to her doctor. Gregor nearly came out of his skin when he heard she’d had a turn and he’s not a male prone to showing his reactions. My instincts tell me his reaction was not because of some nefarious plot, but because the thought of her in pain hurt him. Lassiter probably told him about her gifts as well, but even if he didn’t, he’s a vampire who’s lived with Sonia for years. He’d notice it. It took me a bloody week. If Lassiter didn’t tell Gregor, it probably took him about as long as it took me. What she can do is unusual for a human but she’s amongst those who’ll accept her now. It’s fine. She’s fine. Let it go.”

At that, Ryon uncharacteristically lost patience and clipped, “Just let me do my fucking job, all right?”

Callum studied his cousin. He’d known him a long time and Ryon’s instincts were as sharp as Callum’s.

And what would it hurt?

Therefore, he gave in. “All right, Ry, if you feel so strongly about it, do your job.”

It was then, both their heads cocked as they sensed Sonia’s approach.

Ryon’s eyes locked on Callum and he whispered in a voice so low Sonia wouldn’t hear but also that strangely sounded like a warning, “She’s in love with you, you know. She has been for years.”

Callum simply smiled because he knew and that was exactly why Sonia Arlington-McDonagh was absolutely fucking perfect.

Therefore, he replied with contented kingly arrogance, “I know.”

Ryon regarded him closely, communicating something Callum didn’t understand.

He also didn’t care.

His mind, again, turned to his mate.

There was a short soft knock on the door before she stuck her head in.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

“Come in, baby doll,” Callum called and she came through the door still wearing nothing but her robe and socks, her hair back in that pretty pink band.

He wondered as he watched her walk gracefully toward him, what she had on under the robe.

He hoped it was just his chain.

He turned his chair to her, she sat in his lap, and as he twisted to the desk, she looked to Ryon.

“Hey, cuz,” she greeted on a smile.

“Hey, cuz,” Ryon smiled back, either over it or hiding his earlier intensity.

She turned to Callum and announced with mock irritation, “I’ve just been treated to a thirty-minute interrogation about my claiming in the kitchen. Mara and Callie are screamingly nosy. My excuse of ‘being human’ isn’t working anymore.”

Callum grinned at her and advised, “So tell them.”

Her eyes grew wide and she cried, “No way! That’s between you and me.” She gasped on some sudden thought, her head twisted sharply toward Ryon, and then back to Callum where her eyes narrowed. “You haven’t—”

“No,” he cut her off and her body relaxed against his. “At least not yet,” he went on and her body got rock solid. He was chuckling when he finished on a tease, “I just haven’t had the time.”

“You…!” she cried shortly, clearly too incensed to go on.

At the same time, Ryon noted roguishly, “I’ll look forward to that.”

She twisted her head to look at Ryon before twisting it again to Callum. He lifted his hand to cup and therefore control the movements of her neck so she didn’t give herself whiplash.

“Don’t you dare!” she snapped at him and he smiled yet again but this was a different smile.

“Will it piss you off if I do?”

“Yes,” she returned instantly.

Callum replied just as swiftly, “I like you pissed off, baby doll. Haven’t had that in a while.” He nuzzled her stiff neck and flicked her ear with his nose before saying there, “I miss it.”

She growled in her throat.

Callum chuckled in his.

They both went still and all three of the inhabitants of the room looked to the window. A car, or by the sounds of it, a truck or SUV was approaching.

“You expecting company?” Ryon asked deceptively casually.

No, he wasn’t.

Then again, there were hundreds of wolves in his hills, some of them with mates, others with family members, most with both. The town and its vicinity, as Mara noted, were heaving.

However, his wolves wouldn’t approach. Not without an invitation or a reason. This was not only the standard, but also because he’d newly claimed his mate. They’d need a good excuse to interrupt him during this time even if a celebration was commencing tomorrow.

Which meant this could be bad tidings.

He got out of his chair, lifting Sonia to her feet as he did so, mumbling, “I need to see who’s at the door.”

His mind finally off his mate and on whatever was coming, Callum didn’t notice at first that Sonia fell in step beside him.

When he did, he stopped, looked down at her, and ordered, “You stay here.”

She gazed up at him. “But…someone’s at the door.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “And I’m going to see who it is.”

Her expression changed. For some Sonia reason it became stubborn and she retorted, “And I’m going with you.”

Callum sought patience and replied, “Baby doll, you’re in a robe.”

“So?” she returned instantly. “It covers me doesn’t it?”

It did.

However, considering her sweet little body and her pretty face, it didn’t leave much to the imagination even if you didn’t have much of an imagination. And most wolves had excellent imaginations.

“You’re staying here or getting dressed,” Callum commanded.

“I’m going to the door,” she rejoined.

“Sonia—”

Her head tilted. “Is this my house?”

“Sonia—”

“Is it my door?”

Still seeking patience, Callum looked to Ryon, who was grinning at them and obviously not about to assist, then he muttered, “Bloody hell.”

“I’m going to the door,” Sonia finished and commenced striding out of the room.

He sighed his defeat. Ryon chuckled. Callum glared at him and he moved out of his study, leaving Ryon behind. He caught her up, took her hand, and together they went to the door.

He smelled vampire as he hit the large stone entryway.

A vampire with a female human.

More precisely, Lucien, likely with his mate.

Relief hit him at the same time as curiosity and Callum maneuvered Sonia partially behind him but still beside him as he opened the door.

A shiny black Porsche Cayenne was glinting in the sun at the foot of the steps.

Lucien, tall, black-haired, and powerfully built, wearing jeans, boots, and a black turtleneck which could be seen under his black, wool, hip-length, double-breasted coat was climbing them. Climbing beside him, her hand linked in his, was a beautiful blonde with dark blue eyes. She had a fantastic figure covered in charcoal gray cords, a stylish, fitted, black leather jacket with an eggplant-colored pashmina wrapped around her neck, and she was wearing high-heeled black boots.

Pure fucking class. Both of them.

Gazing at the female, her eyes as alive as her expression, like she couldn’t hide her love of life nor did she want to, not to mention smelling her exquisite scent, Callum realized immediately Lucien’s fate had also led him to the perfect match.

Pleased for the vampire, his eyes moved to Lucien’s as Callum tucked his own perfect match into his side and he smiled.

“This is a surprise,” he greeted as Lucien led his mate across the landing to the door.

“A pleasant one, I trust,” Lucien replied, also on a smile, but the vampire’s black eyes were, as usual, carefully blank. Lucien never gave anything away, at least not to Callum’s recollection.

“That depends on its purpose,” Callum returned, shifting himself and Sonia to the side to allow Lucien and his mate entry, and then he closed off the cold behind them by shutting the door.

Lucien stopped himself and his mate just inside, and pulling her protectively close, he said, “I’d heard you’d finally claimed your mate. I was curious.”

Lucien wasn’t curious. Lucien had a reason to be there.

Callum also hid his reaction and turned to Sonia. “Honey, this is a friend of mine, Lucien.” He looked to Lucien. “Lucien, this is my queen, Sonia.”

She was gazing at Lucien, openly unsure of what to make of him, and she held out a tentative hand, which, after a glance at Callum, Lucien took.

Bending low, Lucien brushed his lips against her knuckles and all in the entryway (except, perhaps, Lucien’s mate) heard Sonia’s soft intake of breath.

A soft intake of breath Callum didn’t like.

Nor did he like it when Lucien kept hold of her hand and pulled her closer.

Callum tensed and only partially relaxed when Lucien turned Sonia to his mate.

“Sonia, this is Leah, my bride,” he said softly but Leah was smiling openly at Sonia.

“Hello,” Leah said in an attractive alto voice, her smile never wavering.

However, it was plain to see in the face of her stylish company, Sonia was having belated second thoughts about appearing at the door in her socks and robe, cashmere or not.

“Hi,” Sonia replied on a shy smile and then she politely pulled her hand from Lucien’s and scuttled back. She nearly ran into Callum before he caught her and folded her again into his side where she wrapped her arm around him.

It was at that, Callum fully relaxed.

“Leah, meet Callum,” Lucien invited and it was Callum’s turn to take Lucien’s mate’s hand but he didn’t brush his lips against her knuckles. He just squeezed and released it.

“Coffee!” Sonia suddenly cried and looked up at Callum. “I’ll order coffee and something to eat and um…get dressed.” She looked to Lucien and Leah. “Are you hungry?”

“Starved, but I’d kill for a cup of coffee,” Leah replied, still smiling.

“Brilliant. We have coffee,” Sonia announced. “Good coffee. Mara only gets the best.” She turned again to Callum. “You, um…take them somewhere warm. I’ll be right back.”

Then, with a self-conscious grin at their guests, she broke from Callum’s hold and ran down the hall.

Callum watched her go.

He realized that Lucien did too when he heard the vampire mutter, “Fetching.”

“I am still standing here, you know,” Leah remarked, her severe tone belied by her unwavering smile.

Lucien’s eyes turned to his mate before he murmured, “Mm, I know, my pet.”

Callum watched, concealing his surprise as Lucien looked down at his bride with blatant warmth.

Christ, he loves her, Callum thought, examining the couple.

This shouldn’t have taken him aback. She was his lifemate and to have her Lucien had put both their lives at risk and turned the vampire world upside down. Further, Callum had spent his entire existence feeling the intensity of that kind of connection between his own people.

But not from a vampire. Never from a vampire. Not that transparent adoration. Not in hundreds of years.

And, for some asinine reason, Lucien’s display and Leah’s artless acceptance of it rattled Callum.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Mara bustled in calling, “Well, hello there! I’m Mara, housekeeper at Canis. Let me get your coats and we’ll get you somewhere warm. Callista is preparing coffee and a bite to eat.”

Mara took their outer gear and Callum led the way to the sitting room on the first floor. It was a circular room at the bottom of a turret with heavy comfortable furniture and a spherical fireplace in the middle, already blazing, making the space warm.

“Please sit,” Callum invited Leah and she again smiled at him.

“You have a lovely castle,” she noted, looking around while sitting on a couch and crossing her legs before she tipped her face up to Lucien and asked mock petulantly, “Why don’t we have a castle, darling?”

“You want a castle, sweetling, I’ll get you a castle,” Lucien answered casually.

Leah had been joking.

Lucien was not.

Callum watched as Leah’s stunning face absorbed this fact. It softened to a look of such extreme devotion, Callum felt himself melting from the room. They were the only two there. Callum had ceased to exist.

That was when he knew what rattled him. He knew what Ryon couldn’t put his finger on. He knew his cousin was correct.

Something wasn’t right with Sonia.

He knew this because, since Christmas, unless he was fucking her, except for during their fight, she never called him “wolf.”

Not mock petulantly.

Not at all.

He had her warmth. He had her affection. She enjoyed his attention and she was a brilliant queen in every aspect.

And she loved him.

He knew that.

But something was missing.

Christ, he had all that, and it was magnificent, but she was still holding something back.

“Callum?” Lucien called and Callum’s unfocused eyes concentrated on the vampire.

“Sit,” Callum grunted, uneasy with his newfound knowledge but more at what might be behind it, and Lucien took a seat beside his bride as Callum did the same opposite them.

Leah instantly curled into Lucien’s side as his arm slid around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

Seeing this made Callum grit his teeth.

Then Lucien announced, “We need to talk before Sonia returns.”

Callum’s attention sharpened and his instincts made him brace.

“Then do it quickly,” Callum invited. He wanted this to be over, needed to have a word with his wife. His gaze shifting briefly to Leah, deciding she likely had full knowledge of Lucien’s abilities, he went on, “But if you sense Sonia anywhere near, stop speaking.”

Lucien’s brows went up. He’d smell her before Callum did while he was in human form. If he were a wolf, his senses would have been slightly more acute than the vampire’s, but at that moment he was not a wolf.

“Would you like to explain that?” Lucien suggested.

“Not right now,” Callum replied, giving Lucien the correct implication that he might not later either. It depended on how this conversation progressed.

Lucien nodded, let it go, and continued without preamble, “I’ve spoken to Gregor.”

Callum didn’t respond.

“He’s explained things,” Lucien went on.

“And what did he explain?” Callum asked.

Lucien’s arm tightened protectively around Leah before he said, “He’s shared The Prophesies.”

Leah’s body tensed and her happy face grew serious as she gazed at Callum.

She knew as well and her fear was palpable.

As it would be.

Lucien was watching him closely and he queried, “You know of them?”

“Some of them, yes,” Callum answered.

“I was told you didn’t know,” Lucien murmured and Callum didn’t respond. Therefore Lucien continued, “They’re vague as prophesies tend to be but they appear to be coming true. You and Sonia were obvious. Leah and myself…” He hesitated. “Not so much.”

“There is another,” Callum informed him.

Lucien’s chin went up before he noted, “Yes, but they’ll be found soon.”

“They don’t have to be.”

Lucien gazed at him a moment before saying quietly, “Yes, Callum, they do.”

Callum knew what he meant and he felt the muscle jump in his jaw.

The third lifemates needed to be found, the female claimed and bound, before The Prophesies could come true.

Leah, being mate to a vampire, would have eternal life.

Sonia, being mate to a werewolf, would always be mortal.

The third lifemate would need to be found before Sonia died, which meant soon, in the life of an immortal.

Callum decided to change the subject. “Do you have any idea if it will be wolf or vampire who claims the third mate?”

Lucien held his eyes and replied, “A hybrid.” Callum felt his brows go up and Lucien nodded. “Werewolf, vampire hybrid. The first of his kind.”

This was news.

Lucien kept speaking. “It’s important we form an alliance, and when they’re discovered, we ally with them.”

Callum thought no truer words were spoken.

“Absolutely,” he agreed.

“Therefore, you should know about Leah.” Callum’s eyes moved to Lucien’s bride but Lucien kept speaking, explaining simply, “She dreams.”

Callum’s gaze sliced back to the vampire as his body grew taut.

“Dreams?” he used that word to persuade the vampire to go on.

“I dream,” Leah put in. “They’re better now but, well…” she trailed off and looked up at her mate.

“She dreams the future,” Lucien continued for her. “Vividly. So vividly the dream can take hold in real life to the point that what’s happening in her subconscious can happen to her physically.”

“Curious,” Callum muttered and watched Lucien’s mouth tighten in irritation.

“She dreamed of The Sentence,” he declared and at that it was Callum’s mouth that grew tight.

The Sentence was what, centuries ago, vampires carried out against their own who had human mates who they refused to denounce. A ruthless verdict which included the vampire tied to a stake and set alight in front of the human so she could see her mate’s imminent death. Then the human was hung in front of the vampire so he could watch his mate swing before his own life was extinguished.

At the thought of Lucien’s stunning mate dreaming that into reality, Callum bit out, “Christ.”

At that, Lucien shared, “She nearly strangled by hanging while doing nothing but lying in bed.”

Callum looked to Leah and murmured with feeling, “I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

But it wasn’t.

He could see the memory of her fear hadn’t faded and Lucien was no longer blanking his reactions. This had shaken him and he showed it visibly.

Another surprise for Callum and an indication of trust from Lucien.

It was Lucien’s turn to change the subject. “She has other abilities.”

Callum almost couldn’t control his reaction to another trait Lucien’s mate shared with his, but he did it.

“And those are?”

“The most important one, considering The Prophesies,” Lucien answered. “She can sense danger.”

Interesting, Callum thought.

But he asked, “Heightened senses? Hearing, smell, sight?”

“Not quite,” Lucien answered, watching him closely. Correctly, Callum knew, assuming from Callum’s earlier warning that Sonia had these gifts. “She simply can sense a threat in enough time to prepare should a situation be uncertain.”

“That’s fortunate,” Callum remarked.

“It’s more than fortunate,” Lucien returned. “And it would help matters greatly if all the prophesied lifemates shared these abilities.”

Callum decided to ease both their minds and disclosed, “Sonia dreams. She’s done it all her life. She dreamed of me repeatedly years before she met me.” He glanced at Leah and then to Lucien. “Leah knows of my people?”

Lucien nodded. “She knows.”

This was surprising as well.

Werewolves, unlike most of the other immortals, shared their secrets with humans. However only with those they trusted implicitly, for instance, if their mate was human or they’d formed a friendship bond with someone they could trust. They were far more careful of sharing about other immortal cultures. In fact it was rare if they did because all of them guarded their own secrets, as well as the knowledge of other immortal beings, obsessively.

Vampires also interacted with humans, for obvious reasons, but did so under tight strictures, until recently. As with other immortals, however, if a vampire shared the knowledge of other immortal races, the vampire and the human would be hunted and put to death.

Simple as that.

Cold-blooded.

And, to Callum’s thinking, totally fucking insane.

Callum jerked his chin at Leah before he continued, “Sonia met me as wolf when she was a child. She dreams of me as wolf too.”

“Has she dreamed of danger?” Leah asked softly and Callum could thankfully shake his head.

“No,” he replied.

Leah leaned slightly toward him. “I think, and Lucien agrees, as he mentioned before that these dreams tell the future. They don’t tell what it is. They tell what it could be. For me, it was a warning which thankfully we were able to avoid. Now,” her smile grew partly fond but mostly intimate, “I dream of something else. For Sonia,” her smile changed, the intimacy left it and it became friendly, “well, obviously, she was dreaming of her future but,” Leah’s smile faded, “now that has occurred, they might become something else.”

Callum’s teeth clenched as Lucien took up the conversation. “You should know, shortly after Leah and I connected, I started to have her dreams.”

“Fucking hell,” Callum muttered, but it wasn’t with displeasure.

He’d fucking love to know what Sonia was dreaming when she dreamed of him.

Lucien carried on, “It was vivid. It told a version of the future but it wasn’t connected to me in a physical way where it could harm me, like Leah. It was just a further warning.”

“This is good,” Callum declared.

“It is,” Lucien concurred on a small smile. “But, we’ll need to monitor and share these dreams, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Callum agreed.

Leah turned to look at her mate and observed, “Sonia seems pretty settled here and it’s safe for her. Perhaps she’s had no need to exhibit abilities to sense danger.”

“She has abilities,” Callum announced and both Leah and Lucien turned to him. “Not like yours,” he told Leah but carried on, “She has the sensory capabilities of wolf as human.”

Callum heard Lucien pull in a breath.

Leah just stared at him blankly, so Callum explained, “Heightened hearing, sight and smell. She can also sense danger and unfortunately has had the opportunity to do so. But for Sonia, it’s more. As it’s nearly wolf, she has instincts. She can sense menace but she can also sense anything even if a presence is close but not a threat.”

“Fucking excellent,” Lucien murmured, for tactically it would be should The Prophesies unfold.

“I’m not done.” The thread of pride veined his voice when Callum continued by telling them what he’d learned on the several hikes he’d taken with his queen. “Sonia has an affinity with wildlife. She thinks it’s just animals but its more. She’s at her most comfortable in natural surroundings. The animals sense her but find her no threat. Some even move to get closer to her. I reckon, if she developed this, she could call them to her, maybe even communicate with them.”

“How cool,” Leah breathed.

“Again, lupine,” Lucien remarked thoughtfully.

“Not exactly,” Callum replied. “We call to canis, wolves, jackals, dogs. Any other creature would sense us as predator. Sonia is not sensed as predator. She’s sensed as one with any species be they wolf or bird or bear.”

“How cool!” Leah exclaimed and Lucien smiled, likely to Leah’s exuberance, but also to this fortunate news. Leah turned to her mate and said excitedly, “I hope I get something like that.”

“You have it, sweetheart,” Lucien replied and in doing so revealed.

“That would be?” Callum cut into their short conversation and Lucien’s eyes came to him.

Forthright, he informed Callum, “She can mark me, communicate with me nonverbally and fight mesmerization for brief periods of time.”

Callum didn’t bother to hide his surprise. He whistled low.

If vampires had kings, Lucien would be theirs. He was more than an epic warrior, stronger than the lot. He had added abilities, some of which other vampires had, none of which they had with the strength and control Lucien did. He could read and control minds. He could also mark humans or immortals, which meant he could manipulate their heart rates and anticipate their actions.

If Leah even had a hint of these abilities, including fighting mesmerization, if developed, they could be powerful.

This was all fucking excellent news.

“It seems the fates have provided weapons for the vulnerable,” Callum noted softly, realizing finally and with a sense of relief why his Sonia was gifted.

“Indeed,” Lucien replied just as softly.

“We girlie girls might be able to help you big strong boys kick ass,” Leah declared proudly and both Lucien and Callum grinned at her.

And after Lucien grinned at her, he turned her face to his for a brief kiss, which left Leah with that fond intimate look when he was done.

Then he looked back to Callum. “I wanted to speak of this without Sonia because Gregor suggested you hadn’t told her about immortals and you didn’t know about The Prophesies.”

“This first is true,” Callum disclosed.

“She thinks you’re human?” Leah breathed in horror and Callum looked at her.

“No.”

Leah let out a sigh of relief and said, “She knows you’re a werewolf.”

“No,” Callum repeated, this time curtly.

Leah’s brows drew together and she looked toward the door before she turned back to Callum and asked, “How long have you been together?”

“Six weeks.”

Leah’s eyes got wide and she mumbled, “Uh-oh.”

Bloody hell.

There it was, just as he suspected. A female human’s reaction indicating his protection would be considered a deceit.

“She’s not like you, Leah. She’s not grown up knowing her place in his culture,” Lucien told his bride. “If I was in his position and I understood what was at stake with my mate, I would do the exact same thing.”

Callum felt slightly better.

“Then you’d be in serious trouble too,” Leah stated firmly.

Callum stifled a growl.

Lucien looked at Callum and said with the experience of an immortal male who lived with a female human, “It’ll be fine, Callum.”

Leah looked at Callum and said with the experience that simply was female human, “It will be, but only after she makes you put your tail between your legs, erm…no offense intended.”

“Perhaps we can stop talking about this,” Callum suggested in a way that stated clearly the wording was a courtesy, the words were a command.

Leah bit her lip.

Lucien’s mouth twitched.

Callum stifled another growl.

“Your housekeeper’s coming,” Lucien finally noted and Callum would have kissed Mara for her timing if he didn’t know Drogan would challenge him for doing so.

“Coffee!” Leah declared delightedly. Lucien chuckled and Callum smelled that Callista had, as usual, made him a gracious host because there was far more than coffee heading their way.

Mara arrived with a tray of coffee, platters of homemade cakes and biscuits, and admonishments of, “Callista is preparing a huge spread for lunch, don’t fill up.”

Sonia arrived while Leah was pouring her second cup and it was clear to see why her appearance was delayed.

She’d showered, put on light makeup, and her hair shown, falling in sleek waves over her shoulders and down her back, but the front was pulled back at her crown with a tortoiseshell oval threaded with a matching stick. She was wearing dusky-pink cords and she put on a belted, cream-colored cardigan that fell to her hips and had a shawl collar. The soft fall of material was heavy enough to open the front wide, exposing a skintight army green camisole underneath.

As she had when she met their guests in her robe at the door, but probably didn’t realize, Sonia looked, from top to toe, the queen of a werewolf’s castle.

They all stood when she arrived. Sonia moved toward Callum with a smile at their guests and he saw her claiming chain was hidden behind the material of her cardigan but her wedding rings shown more brightly than usual as if she’d cleaned them.

Callum’s gaze turned to Leah’s finger to see she too was wearing Lucien’s symbols. Hers were black diamonds set in platinum, the engagement diamond was cut in an emerald shape rather than Sonia’s solitaire. Although the diamond was smaller, the engagement ring was layered between two bands. One embedded with smaller baguette diamonds at the bottom, the other embedded with lustrous black onyx at the top.

At the sight, Callum instantly decided to send his mother out to get an accompanying band for Sonia. Something set with tiger’s eye.

Sonia’s fingers found his and threaded through when Leah noted, “You were right, Sonia, your coffee is good.”

Sonia’s smile deepened and he noticed she’d lost her earlier discomfiture now that she was groomed for company and her innate sociability was clearly in evidence. “It isn’t mine. Mine’s average. Callista is an artiste. Wait until you taste her cooking. You’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven.”

At her innocent words, Callum’s eyes caught Lucien’s and he knew they both had gone tense.

For The Prophesies were known but they were far from clear. Therefore their mates’ fates were unknown, and as humans, both could easily perish, and as immortals, both Lucien and Callum faced a desolate eternity if they did.

Unfortunately, Callum faced it anyway, sooner or later.

“Have you asked them to stay?” Sonia inquired of Callum, taking his mind from his dismal thoughts.

“No.” Callum forced his smile. “But you just did.”

“We couldn’t,” Leah cut in.

“You are,” Sonia replied, firm but friendly. She let go of Callum’s hand and moved to Leah. “Let me take you on a tour. You can pick a bedroom. There are twelve in total but eight of them are at the top of a turret. Five are taken, but trust me, the other three are fantastic.”

Sonia guided Leah out of the room, tossing a seemingly carefree smile over her shoulder at Callum.

Leah walked with Sonia out of the room, tossing a genuinely carefree smile over her shoulder at Lucien.

The difference was miniscule but it bloody well existed.

“Callum,” Lucien called softly as Callum glared at the door and he turned his head to the vampire.

Lucien didn’t speak for several long moments, waiting until the women were well away, and when he finally did, it was low.

“I hesitate telling you but I feel you should know so you can prepare.”

Callum remained silent when Lucien paused.

Then Lucien shared, “Gregor is hiding something from you.”

Callum’s gaze narrowed on the vampire. “Sorry?”

“He’s hiding something about Sonia.” Callum tensed and Lucien went on, “When he was explaining things, I sensed it. I didn’t like it. After I read The Prophesies, I asked him about it and he told me neither you nor Sonia knew anything about The Prophesies. Later, I pressed him about it and he shared with me.”

Callum didn’t respond.

He knew about The Prophesies. He’d been told by Mac, though for reasons he didn’t entirely understand and he didn’t fucking like, he’d never been allowed actually to see them.

Before he could react to the knowledge Lucien had, Lucien got closer and his voice dipped lower.

Then he said with unconcealed emotion, “I’m sorry, my friend.”

Callum felt that feeling; the one he reckoned was fear but this time it was piercing.

“Sorry for what?”

Lucien lifted a hand to grip Callum’s biceps as if in an effort at containment. “Sorry to tell you that The Prophesies state your mortal’s life will be a short one.”

Callum’s body jolted before it locked as this statement seared straight through his system.

Lucien went on quickly and quietly, his fingers holding fast. “The Prophesies are vague, simply stating her human life will be fleeting. I haven’t told Leah and I suggest you do the same with Sonia.”

“You lie,” Callum whispered.

“I don’t and why would I?” Lucien replied gently.

He wouldn’t. There was no reason. They were in this together.

He yanked his arm from Lucien’s grip and took a step back, recognizing that feeling was fear.

Definitely fear.

And alongside it ran a new, agonizing thread of pain.

“We’ll fight it,” Lucien vowed. It was a vow, no mistaking it from the vein of steel in the words. “I’d offer my services but Leah would hate it so I suggest you find a vampire to feed from her—”

“You’ve got to be joking,” Callum growled at the very idea of a vampire feeding from his queen.

First, she was his fucking queen.

Second, she was his and no male would touch her for any reason.

Third, she was Sonia, not a meal.

And last, humans reportedly found the feeding of vampires a sensual experience. A highly sensual experience. A sensual experience his sexually responsive mate was not going to have.

Ever.

“We can ask a female vampire,” Lucien proposed, reading Callum’s thoughts, or perhaps understanding them for they’d be his own.

“It takes years of constant feeding for vampire saliva to work its magic,” Callum noted dismissively. “And you suggested we don’t fucking have that.”

“She’ll survive until the war begins, Callum,” Lucien returned. “We have time.”

“Not enough,” Callum bit out.

Not enough.

There had never been enough, but now, evidently, there was even fucking less.

His senses sought her in his castle. Opening up and reaching out, he found her somewhere on the second floor. Her discourse indistinct but there was laughter in her tone and it cut through him like a blade.

“Callum,” Lucien murmured.

“You’ll excuse me,” Callum returned and didn’t wait for a response. He was already exiting the room.

“This is troubling news but we’ll fight it, Callum,” Lucien called after him and made his vow official. “I vow it.”

This didn’t make Callum feel better.

“Tell Sonia I had something to attend to,” he ordered. “I’ll be gone awhile and I don’t want her worried.”

Again, he didn’t wait for a response.

His skin was prickling and his blood was heating and he was finding it difficult to fight the urge to howl.

He walked out of the room into the entryway, down the hall to the back door. Tucking his wedding band into his pocket, at the back door he leapt to wolf and ran through the snow and into the wood, the only way he could soothe his ravaged thoughts.

Then he ran as wolf for hours in a failed effort to assuage the fear that had settled like a weight in his gut and the ache that tore at his heart.

When that didn’t work and night had fallen, he sat in the snow at the rise at the side of his castle, his eyes on the light that came from the windows of the room he shared with his mate and he howled his inconsolable fury at the moon.