Explanation

 

After they ate their breakfast (Sonia couldn’t finish hers, which Callum allowed, but he cleaned her plate, an act she thought was borderline intimacy which caused her to feel warm and cold and scared and excited all at the same time), Callum demonstrated that he was not quite finished racking up his sins.

Firstly, he took Sonia’s hand and led her to the living room.

When she said, “I’ll do the dishes.” He replied, “Later.”

Sin number one.

Everyone knew you cleaned the kitchen right away. If you didn’t, the gunk would solidify on the plates and skillets and it would take ages to soak it away. Further, Callum wasn’t exactly a tidy cook; he’d made a right mess.

However, considering her varied uncertain circumstances—chief of which was the fact that she’d been kidnapped—she decided at that point not to argue about dishes.

He stopped her by one of the large club chairs, dropped her hand, but went to the fire and stoked it, throwing another log on.

He walked across the room to the other hearth situated on the wall on the other side of the bed and stoked that fire, putting a log from the huge pile at its side on the burning embers.

Then he committed sin number two.

He walked back, sat in the club chair, leaned forward, took her hand, and gave it a firm but gentle tug so she came off her feet with a small, surprised thus uncontrollable cry. He twisted her body as she fell and she landed in his lap.

She pulled up and away but his arms locked around her.

“Um…” she muttered cautiously. “What are you doing?”

“As I said, after breakfast, I’d explain,” he told her, his arms growing tighter, drawing her closer. “I’m explaining,” he finished.

“Um…” she muttered again, even more cautiously, trying not to get alarmed. “Can you explain sitting here while I sit on the couch?”

She thought, considering she’d just met him an hour or so ago, this was a reasonable request.

“No.”

There it was. Callum being very firm.

Apparently he thought it wasn’t reasonable.

Sonia begged to differ.

“I’d be more comfortable on the couch,” she informed him.

“You’d be more comfortable in my lap if you’d relax,” he replied.

Okay, maybe she wasn’t insane.

Maybe he was.

Instead of relaxing, she tensed.

“I barely know you,” she noted.

“We’ve got a week to rectify that,” he returned.

She stared.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

He completely ignored her question and asked his own, “Why’d you call me ‘wolf?’”

She blinked.

Then she asked, “What?”

“This morning, when you woke up, you called me ‘wolf.’”

Oh good goodness.

She couldn’t tell him about her dream.

Ever.

In a million years.

No one knew about her dream and she wasn’t about to share it with some guy she just met, who, it was important to note, was her kidnapper!

And anyway, even she didn’t know why she called him that in her dream.

“I didn’t,” she lied. “Did I?” she added for good measure.

“You did. You know you did. You remember every second of this morning.”

Holy cow.

She had a great memory, not photographic but close. It was another one of her gifts.

Did he know that? And if he did, how did he know that?

She didn’t want the answer to that either.

“I thought I was dreaming,” she reminded him.

“Yes, I got that. You still called me ‘wolf’ and I want to know why.”

“I thought this cabin had burned down,” Sonia switched subjects and explained. “My parents used to own this cabin a long time ago.” Not that he, for whatever ungodly reason, didn’t know that. “I’d been told it burned down when I was seven years old. Since it’s still standing, and not burned down, and I’m in it, which I thought was kind of impossible, though obviously not, considering it isn’t burnt down, I thought I was in a dream. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

His hand, which was resting at her hip, curled around her waist. His arm, already around her waist, tightened.

Thus, he brought her closer.

Her hand at his chest pressed back.

He was stronger than her but he allowed her some space, not nearly enough, but some.

“Little one, you’re holding out on me,” he said quietly, his eyes serious and not happy. “I’ll tell you only once. Don’t do that.”

She was unsure how to respond.

The fact that he knew she was holding out on him was bizarre and alarming. The fact that his eyes had grown serious and not happy was just plain alarming.

She decided to respond to the serious, not happy look in his eyes and tread very, very carefully.

But how on earth was she going to get out of this?

Oh hell, she was going to have to give him something. She hated it but she was going to have to do it.

She swallowed before she blurted, “You’re very good-looking.”

His head tilted to the side with a surprised jerk.

She ignored that and carried on.

“I thought,” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, “I was in a dream. I’ve always been…” She paused, pulled in breath then hurried on in a rush, “Once, when I was a little girl, I met this wolf.” His head jerked upright and she watched with concern as his eyes grew intense. “It’s okay,” she assured him, misreading his look. “I was going to mention, I’ve always been really good with animals. He was injured but he wasn’t dangerous. He let me help him.”

“Sonia—” Callum started but she talked over him.

“When I met him, I brought him here, the wolf that is. And…and I liked this wolf. He was a beautiful wolf. I’d seen wolves before out in the woods with my father, but never one like him. He was huge and he had this dignity…” She paused again, realizing she was veering off track, and continued, “Anyway, he made an impression on me. I’ve never forgotten him and I think, being in what I thought was a dream, seeing you here in this cabin and the last time I was here I met that wolf, for some reason, because of him, I used that as an endearment.” She sucked in breath through her nose then said, “So there, that’s why I called you ‘wolf.’”

And that didn’t sound like a lie. In fact, she was pretty pleased with herself, and maybe that was why she called her dream Callum “wolf” too, who knew?

When she’d stopped congratulating herself, she focused on his face. Then she sucked in another breath.

His face was warm and gentle, and she was shocked to see, his eyes weren’t blue, they were tawny.

Oh wow.

She told herself, firmly, she didn’t like it when his eyes went golden (but she did).

Anyway, how did he do that?

“What?” she whispered, forgetting her travails when his eyes were like that, but his hand slid up her back to her neck, his fingers cupped her there and he forced her head to his shoulder.

“Nothing, little one,” he murmured but his voice was warm and gentle too.

She took another deep breath and told herself his big warm body didn’t feel great cradling hers (which it did) and his deep, warm, gentle voice rumbling in her ear didn’t sound wonderful (which it also did). Then she reminded herself that she was in a frightening situation, sitting in the lap of a large, strong, albeit handsome man who was likely dangerous and not her dream man (even though he was, in a way).

She screwed up the courage to start talking about what she wanted to talk about.

“I want to go home,” she told his collarbone.

“You can’t, honey, not for a while,” was his scary response.

“I want to go home,” she repeated.

“You need to stay with me. When this is over, I don’t know where we’ll settle. We’ll talk about it when that happens.”

When what was over?

And…

He didn’t know where they’d settle?

What was he on about?

She didn’t care and she wasn’t going to ask.

Instead, softly, she inquired, “Callum, how much for you to take me home?”

“Honey, you can’t go home,” he reiterated.

“I’ll give you a million dollars.”

She held her breath and waited.

He was silent.

Oh no. Had she gone too high too fast? Or would he get angry knowing she’d low-balled him? She was, he had to know since she was his mark, seriously loaded.

While these thoughts flitted through her brain she felt his body shaking under hers.

She lifted her head and saw he was smiling. The shaking of the body was him silently laughing.

“I wasn’t being funny,” she told him, losing patience.

“You think I’ve kidnapped you,” he told her.

Her mouth dropped open (again).

“Sorry?” she asked after she’d closed it.

His head tipped down and he nuzzled his temple against hers in that tender way she told herself she hated (when she absolutely didn’t) before saying, “Baby doll, I haven’t kidnapped you.”

All of a sudden she was angry because he called her “baby doll” and the fact that this man, in real life, did that was the worst cosmic joke of all.

Maybe this made her stupid, but she didn’t care.

She yanked her head back.

“Okay, Callum, this is what I know,” she stated. “Two guys break into my house, they grab me, discuss raping me, and suddenly, even though it’s the middle of the night and I haven’t made a noise, you’re there to save the day. Instead of calling the police or an ambulance as I’d lost consciousness, you take me out of the city to a remote cabin in the woods. A cabin which conveniently has brand-new clothes and toiletries, all that perfectly suit me. You’re all sweet, but bossy at the same time, and I know your game. You’re not my rescuer. You know I’m wealthy. Name your price, give me your phone, I’ll arrange the money for you, no problem. Then you take me home so I can get on with Christmas and you can go to the beach or find someone else to con.”

He studied her a moment seemingly unperturbed by her understanding of the situation and the blunt way with which she informed him of that fact and replied, “All right, Sonia, now you’ll listen to what’s actually going on.”

“This should be good,” Sonia muttered sarcastically.

“No, it won’t be good,” he returned severely. “It’ll probably freak you out, it’s likely you won’t believe a word I say, but it’s also the truth.”

She glared at him.

He sighed.

Then he spoke and committed sin number three.

Furthermore, he was right. What he said freaked her out. But the way he said it made her know he believed it, which made it all the worse.

“Last night, two men broke into your house. I knew they were going to do it because I had intelligence delivered to me eleven hours earlier informing me of the plot. I am, for the sake of you understanding this, the leader of a gang that has hundreds of thousands of members across the world. The men who broke into your house were soldiers from another, rival gang. You, little one, are important to me. They know this and wanted to take you from me. What they did broke a treaty that was fragile at best. Now we’re at war.”

Sonia was no longer glaring at him.

She was gawking.

She wanted to stop the questions from coming. She just couldn’t.

“You’re the leader of a gang?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered.

“That has hundreds of thousands of members?”

“Yes.”

She stared at his handsome face.

He was good-looking, no doubt about it.

But he was crazy as a loon.

For some reason, she carried on.

“I’m important to you?”

“Very.”

“Why?” Her voice was getting shrill. “You barely know me.”

“We’ll get to that later.”

She blinked, shocked out of her skull then idiotically continued, “What do you mean they ‘were’ soldiers? What happened to them?”

“Last night, I executed them.”

Sonia gasped at this news and then tensed, ready to flee.

His arms closed tight around her, negating any attempt to flee.

He was too strong, she knew it and in an instinctive effort at self-preservation, she gave up.

“You killed them,” she whispered, horrified that he’d do such a thing and equally horrified that he’d tell her he did it so…very…calmly.

They were not good men. They were menaces. Not menaces in a getting drunk and getting in fights, being too loud at baseball games, catcalling and doing kissy faces at women when they walked by kind of way. No, they were a much, much worse kind. She knew this. She’d sensed it about them more than once. And they were new, the menacing presence had only been around for a short while, but she knew they’d been tracking her for weeks. And they’d invaded her home and discussed raping her.

But executing them?

“They touched you,” Callum replied.

“I know.”

“They intended to violate you.”

“I know!” she shouted, and regardless of his strength, the fact that he could subdue her easily and even harm her, she started to struggle in his arms.

His hand slid into her hair and twisted.

She stilled at the onset of pain which was gentle, but if she moved, it would get worse.

His eyes were still tawny when he brought her face to his.

And his expression was fierce and ominous and very, very frightening.

“You’re my mate, Sonia, my queen,” he announced, his voice the exact same as his face, his words, quite simply, were mad. “You were destined for me before you were even conceived. I’ve been waiting for you for longer than you can imagine. And they touched you before I touched you. They committed high treason and for that alone their execution was just. But they fucking touched you before I touched you and for that their deaths were not quick.”

Sonia found she was holding her breath.

Callum didn’t seem to notice.

“I’ll explain more as the days pass but this you know now. You’re mine, Sonia Arlington. You’ve been mine for centuries. You have a week…one week…to get to know me and understand the ways of my culture. I wish it could be longer but because of what happened last night, my people are at war. I’m their king, they need me. I have no time to give, but regardless of that fact, I’m giving you one week. I’ll use it wisely and I suggest, strongly, little one, that you do as well. This will go much better for you if you do.”

“What?” she breathed in spite of herself, not understanding even half of what he said and not knowing which part of “what” she was asking because there was so damned much!

“What?” he repeated.

Her mind focused on one point in many. “What will go much better?”

He brought her face closer. “At the end of this week, baby doll, we’re flying to Scotland. We’re having the Mating Ceremony, and from that point on, you’re bound to me in the eyes of my people’s laws as well as yours until you die.”

She’d obviously asked the wrong question.

“You’re…what?” she shrieked. Yes, right in his face.

“I’m binding you to me.”

“You’re…binding…me…to…you,” she repeated, enunciating each word with clear, open, horror.

He ignored her horror.

“Until you die.”

She tried to rear back.

His hand in her hair, his arm around her body, and his strength that would make Hercules jealous made this effort moot.

So instead she whispered, “Oh my God.”

He ignored that too and stated, “You may have noticed you have no shoes.”

Sonia blinked yet again.

Then she nodded.

Callum continued immediately but on a different subject, “I’m going to finish outside, the storm is already here. They’re forecasting snow, maybe several feet. The electricity can go out here easily and the insulation isn’t the best. We need the fires. We could be snowed in by nightfall. I need to get us sorted.”

With that announcement, he stood, picking her up with him. Somewhere in her fogged, distracted, ravaged, oh-my-god-what’s-happening-to-me mind, she noted that no man had ever picked her up easily like that (or, at all) and held her to his chest like she weighed no more than a sack of feathers.

He turned and tucked her sideways back in the chair, her knees to her chest, the soles of her feet in the seat.

He leaned in and put a hand on either arm of the chair.

“You take some time, come to terms with what I’ve just said. If you have questions, we’ll talk more after lunch.”

She stared at his back as he walked through the cabin and out the back door.

Then she twisted her head to look out the front windows and saw that snow had started to fall.

Heavily.

She realized she’d not make it very far in a snowstorm without shoes even if she managed to escape.

And she had to escape.

Because she was stuck in a cabin with a murdering madman who thought she was his queen and intended to bind her to him until she died.

On this thought, to her shame, Sonia felt a single tear drop from her eye and trail down her cheek as her extreme fear overcame any courage she might have been able to muster.

That tear was joined by another.

Then another.

And then more.