Family

 

“Um…” Sonia muttered.

“Quiet,” Callum clipped.

Sonia tensed in Callum’s arms.

It appeared her attempted escape had not been such a good idea.

She remained still, cradled in his arms as he marched angrily, no, furiously through the snow heading back toward the cabin.

She had made good her escape plan (kind of, before it was thwarted).

After their first very bad day which ended in a not-so-bad late evening, she decided to spend some time lulling him into a false sense of security before she got the hell out of there. She’d pretended, through his gentle explanations that he was king of a secret sect of society, to understand and acquiesce to his lunacy. And she found pretending wasn’t hard to do because of said gentleness, his talk of her father (insane and maybe even mean, even though what he said about her papa was nice) and his father (who he obviously missed, or convinced himself he did).

Although it wasn’t hard to pretend during their chat, it was hard when she found out he expected her to sleep with him in the big bed.

Yes.

Sleep.

With.

Him.

She demurred (as anyone would!).

He insisted (but gently).

She demurred again.

He insisted (a bit more firmly).

She gave in.

Fortunately, this was relatively easy considering he was busy with the fires. This tugged at her heartstrings as she remembered her father doing the same thing. He was always at the fires in order to keep his family warm when they were at the cabin.

In the bathroom, she’d changed into one of her lacy, sexy, silky nightgowns and slid into bed before he’d gotten a glimpse of her.

Unfortunately, after he changed in the bathroom and walked out wearing nothing but a pair of navy flannel pajama bottoms, she got a full-on view of his chest. His massive, defined, muscular chest, complete with a furring of hair that was spread in a tempting array across his chest and down his belly. Chest hair that only the hand of God could have created after which, God could only remark, “My work here is done.”

Yes, Callum’s chest hair was just…that…perfect.

Really, the cosmos had it out for her.

He’d slid into bed beside her and she was certain his big body would take most of the space (it didn’t, she had a nice comfy section all her own).

He called a soft goodnight to which she’d replied in turn.

Then she held herself tense waiting for him to try something.

He didn’t.

He lay on his back and she listened as his breathing grew steady.

It took a while but finally Sonia fell asleep.

Unfortunately, when she woke up, she found he’d turned his back to her but she’d turned into him and was spooning him all down his length. Close to his length. Her knees cocked in his, her hips snuggled in his, her arm around his waist, her torso against his back, but her forehead was pressed to his shoulder blade.

She started to pull away. Before she could succeed in this, however, his fingers curled around her wrist and kept her where she was.

“I, um…need to go to the bathroom,” she told the smoothly muscled skin of his back.

He released her wrist but rolled. She scooted back to avoid his big body, but before she could scoot out of reach, his arm tagged her waist and he pulled her mostly underneath him.

Her eyes caught his and his were tawny.

Good goodness, but she liked it when his eyes went tawny (even though she told herself she didn’t).

“Look forward to waking up like that every day, baby doll,” he muttered, his voice hoarse with sleep.

Sonia gulped.

Callum smiled.

Her heart clutched at his smile.

His head dropped down and to the side, he rubbed his temple against hers, and then he let her go.

That day couldn’t have been more different than the one before.

They did not fight.

They ate way too much and way too fatty foods.

They talked about his father, her father, and the fact they’d been long-time friends (supposedly). About his kingdom, which apparently was world-wide and included armies and territories which were overseen by governors and all sorts of other stuff.

Seriously, he had a vivid imagination. It was fascinating but it was insane.

Though, deep down, the more he talked and the pride and fondness in his voice made her want to believe this world was real.

And he talked about her queendom. Essentially, she had nothing to do except the small duties of being at his side all the time and supporting him in everything he wished to do.

Even though she asked, he’d said they’d get into “the war” later.

Most of the talking happened while they were cuddling, either Sonia sitting in his lap or both of them stretched on the couch with Sonia in his arms.

Indeed, his informing her that his people were “affectionate” was an understatement. He was the touchiest person she’d ever met.

Gregor, nor Yuri, touched, hugged, or cuddled. They were often coolly affectionate but not in any physical way.

But with Callum, even when they weren’t cuddling he found ways to touch her. Like while she was cooking, he’d get close, put a hand to her waist, and look over her shoulder at the food she was preparing. Or when she was playing solitaire on his computer, he walked up behind her, wrapped his arm around her chest, pulled her back to his front, and held her there for long moments before bending, rubbing his temple against hers, and letting her go.

He never said anything. He just touched.

He was, all day, as he promised, entirely different—patient and tender, sometimes teasing and sweet.

Especially when he gave her the injection. His reaction was no less severe and her reaction to his soothing embrace was no less deep.

Obviously, since he did have men (he, again, talked to them on the phone often that day and she’d even met the cheeky but deferential Waring), she decided he was a leader of a cult or something. Somehow, he’d locked on to her as his “mate,” and being the leader, had convinced his people she was their queen.

They had resources. That was also obvious. Even small as it was, her family’s cabin was outfitted spectacularly. His and her clothes were outdoorsy but they were of an excellent brand and very high quality. His cell phone and computer were top of the line. The kitchen was not only stocked to the gills, everything in it was the finest you could buy—from the appliances, to the utensils, pots and pans, even the food.

She didn’t believe a word he said about her father but she reckoned, in his loopy mind, he did.

It was sad that this glorious man was obviously not well.

But it was scary that, as the day progressed, something was telling her she didn’t care.

She understood how he recruited his followers. Because he was the kind of man you followed, even if he was insane.

There was something about him. It was more than the fact that he was incredibly good-looking (but that helped). More than the sharp intelligence in his blue eyes. More than the rich depth of his attractively accented voice. More than his manner filled with absolute confidence and exhibited through every movement of his powerful body and every word he spoke.

It was the quiet yet fierce force of his personality which was compelling and nearly impossible to resist.

As the day wore on Sonia found she wanted to believe in his world, to be a part of it, even (Lord forbid) the ridiculous but appealing idea of being his queen.

She was even trying to find ways to sort it in her brain. Telling herself seeing him in dreams for years meant they were supposed to be together just like he said they were. That maybe she was his queen. That maybe he was her handsome wolf.

But the logical side of her brain, which was fighting the battle of its life against Callum’s captivating pull, told her there were no such things as secret sects with kings and queens and wars.

He was just a madman who kidnapped her, maybe murdered men while doing it (even bad men, but still), and he intended to make her his “mate” without her getting a word in edgewise.

Therefore, long after she heard his breathing even the second night, she made good her escape.

It scared her silly, trying to creep around silently getting prepared and out the back door, but she did it.

Even with four pairs of thick socks on, walking in his boots was clumsy and time-consuming, it was freezing and the snow was only gently falling, which meant she had to waste precious time covering her tracks.

But even though she remembered the cave being only a short, maybe twenty-minute walk away from the cabin, it took her what felt like hours to get there.

She didn’t light a fire because she had no idea how, but also because she didn’t want him to see it.

Instead, she carefully unbundled her medicine and food, wrapped herself in the woolly blanket she’d brought (and she was still chilled to the bone within minutes), and stayed awake until dawn touched the sky.

She fell into an exhausted sleep while considering her next step.

Then she sensed him.

Instantly awake and alert, she jumped up, but his large form was filling the mouth of the cave before she even got the blanket off her shoulders.

She stared at him.

That was impossible. When she’d sensed him, he hadn’t been close.

How did he get there so fast? He couldn’t sense her and no one could move that fast.

He had to know about the cave.

“You knew about the cave,” she whispered.

“Quiet,” his voice was even and calm.

She squared her shoulders, faced off with him, and told him courageously, “I don’t want to go back.”

“Quiet!” he roared, his voice not even or calm in the slightest.

Sonia went still.

Callum strode forward, snatched up her medicine, wrapped her in the blanket, picked her up in his arms, and strode angrily from the cave.

So much for her escape attempt. She only managed to stay away a few hours.

Seriously, she was in trouble.

And she was in even more trouble because she didn’t know whether to be frightened out of her mind that he found her or…elated.

They were nearing the cabin and she knew instantly there were people inside.

So shocked at this, forgetting to hide her gift, she whispered, “Callum, there are people—”

“Quiet.”

“But—”

His arms grew so tight they almost, but not quite, hurt.

She thought it prudent to be quiet, so she was.

He walked right in the porch door, through to the cabin’s back door and straight into the cabin.

There were four people there. All tall. All looking a lot like Callum, three even had sky-blue eyes, but one had green. And one was a woman.

They were all staring at Callum and Sonia with knowing, amused expressions on their faces.

Callum ignored them and tossed Sonia on the bed.

Sonia bounced then settled and looked up at Callum’s handsome but enraged face, not knowing what to do or if she’d live long enough to do it.

Callum’s voice was back to even and calm when he stated, “So yesterday was a lie.”

Knowing this voice heralded the scary roar if she said the wrong thing, Sonia decided not to speak at all.

And anyway, they had an audience.

Were they going to do this in front of an audience?

“Answer me,” Callum demanded.

Apparently they were going to do this in front of an audience.

“Um…” Sonia muttered.

“Answer me!”

There it was, the roar.

Okay, maybe he was a murdering kidnapping madman and there was a better way to play it, she just didn’t know what that was and she was so angry, she didn’t care.

She threw off the blanket and got to her knees, shouting, “You kidnapped me!”

“I told you, Sonia—”

“I know what you told me!” she interrupted on a shriek. “That I’m your mate, your queen, yadda, yadda, yadda. Do I get a say in this?” she demanded.

“No, you bloody well don’t!” he shouted back.

“Well, that’s unacceptable!” she yelled. “It’s even insane!”

“I take you down the mountain, I put you in your house, I take away your guard, you’ll be kidnapped and killed within days,” he clipped.

“Seriously,” she muttered scornfully.

“Seriously,” he shot back.

“I—” she started.

“Do you forget what happened three nights ago?” he demanded.

“Of course not!” she snapped.

“The threat is real,” he informed her.

“Only if you didn’t set it up to make me think it was real,” she shot back.

His whole body jerked before he thundered, “Why in fucking hell would I do that?”

“To make me go along with your crazy plan!” she answered.

Callum growled, his head twisted to the side and he bit out, “I should have seized her, taken her to a castle, and bedded her. This would have been finished within hours, not fucking days, and not with this ridiculous garbage. But no, I listened to you.”

“Don’t drag me into this,” the green-eyed man said, grinning ear to ear like their show was enormously amusing.

“Sonia, darlin’.” One of the blue-eyed men was speaking to her and she moved her gaze to his. “What Callum says is true. You’re his queen and you’re under threat.”

“You would say that,” Sonia returned. “He’s brainwashed you. I hate to be the one to tell you this but you’re a member of his cult.”

All of them, including Callum, stared at her like she’d lost her mind.

She didn’t know much about brainwashing but they said brutal interventions were often the way to go when someone was addicted to something, even the charisma of another person, so she forged ahead.

Anyway, she was already screwed. She had nothing to lose.

“I don’t blame you,” she went on. “He can be pretty charming and charismatic. Still, he’s not a well man.”

The newcomers all burst out laughing.

Callum scowled at her a moment before dropping his head back and saying to the ceiling, “Bloody hell.”

“Sonia,” the woman called and Sonia looked at her. “Sweetheart, I’m Regan, Callum’s mother.”

Sonia’s mouth dropped open at this news.

She looked like Callum, for certain. But she had to be his sister, not his mother. In fact, she looked even younger than he was.

“What?” Sonia breathed.

Regan came forward. “Let me show you something, sweetheart,” she said softly.

She had a big, designer, leather handbag over her shoulder and from it she pulled a framed photo. When Regan got close to her, she turned the photo to face Sonia. It was a picture of her mother and father’s wedding day.

Standing by her mother was a tall dignified man who looked like every man in this room, but most especially Callum. Standing by her father was the woman standing in front of her.

“Holy cow,” she whispered then she looked at the woman, who, from the day her parents were married decades ago, to that very day in the cabin, appeared not to have aged a moment, and announced the obvious, “Photos can be altered.”

“I’d known Cherise Mayfair Arlington for what seems forever,” Regan declared. “She was a dear friend.”

Oh no. This wasn’t fair.

“Don’t—” Sonia warned.

“She liked pink and dressed you up in it as often as she could,” Regan went on and Sonia’s heart slid up her throat when she heard these words.

“Don’t—” Sonia repeated but that one word sounded choked.

Regan interrupted her, “Lassiter liked blue and he detested pink—”

Sonia cut her off. “This isn’t even nice.”

It wasn’t nice, them using her parents against her.

Though what Regan said was true. Her father was always trying to talk her mother out of dressing her in pink and he was always buying clothes for her that were blue. It was a silly little argument that they bickered about good-naturedly the entire, albeit heartbreakingly short life she’d led with them in it.

No one could know that from doing research on her.

Sonia had even forgotten it.

“You haven’t aged a day from that picture,” Sonia accused.

Regan took in a breath and replied, “Our people age slowly.”

She could say that again.

Regan moved slightly closer and pressed emotionally deeper. “Every Sunday, Lassiter made you pancakes in the shapes of stars.”

Sonia’s heart clutched.

Now, really. How did she know that?

No one could know that.

Except her father and mother and both of them were dead.

Sonia scuttled back on the bed, whispering, “Stop it.”

Regan’s voice grew sad and fond when she said, “Cherise told me your favorite book was The Giving Tree.”

“Stop.”

“She said she read it to you night after night.”

“Stop.”

“It was the only book you wanted to hear.”

Sonia felt the edge of the bed and halted, staring at the woman.

Her eyes had gone tawny.

And it hit her, belatedly, that that wasn’t natural, eyes that changed like that. No one’s eyes did that. It was one thing for the hue to change, say, if you were wearing a certain color. But for the color to change completely? To that attractive but inexplicable shade which was not from nature or any nature that Sonia knew?

And it wasn’t natural for dream men to come alive.

That didn’t happen. To anyone.

Ever.

Her gaze slid through the ensemble—all inordinately tall, all dark, all gorgeous, all with clear intelligent eyes. Just like Waring last night.

Just like Callum.

Holy cow.

These people weren’t like her people.

These people were of a different culture. They belonged to a secret sect of society who lived alongside humans.

Her gaze moved to Callum, who was watching her closely, the anger gone from his face replaced with something profoundly gentle.

“I know this is hard for you to take in, but Callum and you have been linked through eternity, even before you both existed, even before you were cells in a womb,” Regan continued softly. “You’re destined for each other, connected to each other. It’s the way of our people. You’re lifemates and, Sonia, that’s a beautiful thing. Your mother and father were good friends to our people. They accepted us. They would have been so happy you were to be among us. So very happy. I promise you that, sweetheart.”

As Regan spoke, Sonia never took her eyes from Callum.

“I dreamed of you,” she whispered and watched as his body grew visibly taut. “Since I was a teenager, I dreamed of you.”

The others started moving away but neither she nor Callum moved a muscle.

Finally, he said softly, “You know me.”

“In my dreams, you’ve been coming to me for twenty years.”

“You know me,” he repeated.

Sonia nodded a jerky frightened nod. “When I woke up the other day, I thought it was another dream.”

Vaguely she heard the back door close.

“Do you understand you’re mine?” he asked.

It was then that she did.

It sang through her soul. It made her feel whole again after being fragmented since a Christmas Eve thirty-one years ago.

No, it made her feel truly whole like she’d never felt in her life.

And at the same exact time, it scared her senseless.

She swallowed.

Then she nodded again.

“You understand you’re my queen?”

“I’m scared,” she admitted freely. She had no idea why but she was scared. Of him, of the fact that his crazy stories were real, she was under threat, she belonged to him, his people were at war, and she was their queen.

How did one even go about being a queen?

“I’ll take care of you,” he replied gently.

She gazed at him long moments before nodding again.

His body relaxed.

Then, his eyes golden and shimmering, he said quietly, “Come to your wolf, baby doll.”

On trembling limbs which were moving of their own accord, she scooted off the bed, rounded it, and slowly walked to him.

When she was in reaching distance, he snatched her roughly in his arms and held her close. She trembled in his embrace, terrified at the overwhelming uncertainty of her future.

He sensed it and promised again, “I’ll take care of you.”

She nodded, her cheek sliding against his chest.

He rubbed his temple against the top of her head then held her tight until the tremors slid away.

Finally, he asked, “Are you okay?”

She nodded again, not making her lie audible.

He tipped her face to his with a fist under her chin.

“I have to do something. I’ll be back in a short while. My family will take care of you while I’m gone.”

Sonia nodded again.

He bent his neck and placed his temple against hers.

“We’ll have a beautiful life, you and me. I’ll see to it.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

He squeezed her tight then he let her go.

Then he was gone.

She stared into the space he’d just occupied, her mind blank.

From afar, she heard his deep voice say, “Let’s run,” and she heard the answering, amused, “Fuck, yeah.”

And she thought, because he was different maybe she could even tell him she was different. He above all would understand. He would never make her feel weird.

Her mind filled with memories of hundreds of dreams of her handsome wolf.

Her “lifemate.”

Her destiny.

And those dreams…

Her dreams…

In some magical way, those dreams foretold her future of a beautiful strong man who would hold her and tease her and accept her and make her feel loved.

She closed her eyes as gladness washed over her.

Then she realized in an unwelcome intrusion on her unbound joy that she had to use the bathroom.

She was finished and had a hand on the handle of the bathroom door when she heard the murmuring voices, voices that were talking outside.

She stilled at what she heard and listened.

“…Callum nuts?” an incredulous man asked.

“Caleb,” Regan replied.

“No, seriously, Regan, is he nuts?” Caleb repeated.

“You can never know who you’ll be attracted to.”

“A monk would be attracted to Sonia, she’s fucking seriously pretty,” Caleb returned, and understanding these words (and hoping she did not), Sonia’s body went solid. “Not to mention, she’s pretty freaking funny,” Caleb finished.

“You know your brother’s tastes don’t tend to stray down Sonia’s way.”

“Even so, it’s nuts. Did you see her?”

“I saw her.”

“Ryon said Callum seemed impatient for the claiming, wanted to get it over with so he could get on with taking down the rebellion,” Caleb went on and Sonia’s briefly buoyant heart lurched before Caleb mumbled, “Fuck me.”

“Caleb—”

“It was me, I wouldn’t be shitty I was forced to spend a week with that woman in a remote cabin explaining the ways of our culture to her. It was me and I was alone with her in a remote cabin, I’d draw it out so long it’d take a year.”

“Well, it isn’t you,” Regan retorted firmly.

“No, it isn’t and a damned shame it isn’t.” He paused and went on sharply, “Not for me, Regan, for her. Woman like that? She deserves a man who wants her, not the mate the oracles foretold would be his queen.”

Oh dear lord, Sonia thought as her lurching heart turned to stone.

“Perhaps he’ll grow an attraction to her,” Regan suggested.

“Oh, he’ll do his duty to his people, Mac made sure of that,” Caleb clipped. “The oracles said it was Sonia, Callum will mate with Sonia. The end. Every one of us expects to find the other half to our soul. Not Cal. Duty first, heart second.” There was a pause and then the kicker as a finish, “Maybe, if he’s lucky, as a human, she’ll understand his need to fuck around on her with his kind.”

Sonia sucked in breath.

“Caleb!” Regan snapped. “You don’t know he’ll do that. She’s his mate and—”

“It’s Callum we’re talking about, isn’t it?” Caleb returned sarcastically.

Sonia rested her forehead on the bathroom door.

“I’m not talking about this anymore,” Regan replied. “I’m going to go and get to know my soon-to-be daughter-in-law.”

“I’m gonna run,” Caleb returned irately.

“You do that, you need it,” Regan retorted.

Sonia turned her back to the door and slid down it until her bottom hit the floor. She rested her temple on her knee as she wound her arms around her calves.

Evidently, the cosmos wasn’t done with her.

So it gave her the handsome charismatic king of a secret sect of eye-color-changing, slow-aging people as her destined mate.

But it also made it so that king didn’t want her.

And, apparently, he was a philanderer (even his brother said so!).

Somewhere in her heart at every moment she missed her mother and father.

It was only times like these when that slightly dulled ache grew and blossomed and twisted and reminded her how truly alone she was in the world.

Not that she often found, and lost, her dream man in the span of minutes.

But Sonia Arlington had lost a lot in her life.

This was just the last in long line of it.

And, unfortunately, she’d never gotten used to it.

 

* * * * *

 

Sonia was in the kitchen with Regan watching Callum arrange greenery and lights on the mantels of the fireplaces.

The Christmas decorations were Ryon’s idea.

After Sonia experienced her latest life trauma, she composed herself (she hoped), came out of the bathroom, and she and Regan made breakfast for what Regan called “The Boys.” “The Boys,” Regan informed Sonia, were Calder and Caleb, Callum’s younger brothers, and Ryon, his cousin.

Regan was really nice, talky and chatty in a motherly way that was a little bit weird (okay, it was a lot weird) considering she looked like their sister.

Still, she took great pains letting Sonia know she was welcoming her into the bosom of her brood with open arms.

As they made huge fluffy pancakes for the men, she told Sonia stories about her momma and papa, which was the only nice thing that had happened in this mess, Regan knowing and having stories about Sonia’s parents. It was something Sonia hadn’t had for years and she appreciated greatly. Although Gregor was supposed to be their very best friend, he disliked talking about them, and eventually Sonia stopped bringing them up.

When Sonia told Regan this, Regan’s mouth got tight in a way that made Sonia curious.

“What?” she asked Callum’s mother.

Regan slid the bacon around in the skillet with a fork and muttered, “It’s just…” She looked at Sonia with a carefully closed face and finished, “I’ve known Gregor too, for a long time. He didn’t get along with my husband.”

“Oh,” was all Sonia said because it was obvious Regan didn’t want to talk about it. As she wouldn’t, considering Gregor didn’t get along with her dead husband.

This was also not a surprise. Gregor didn’t get along with hardly anybody.

Callum, Ryon, and Calder came back and Sonia heard it before Regan did.

She also heard who she would later know was Calder mutter before they walked into the house, “This is brilliant. Fuck her tonight, you can bring her down the mountain, and we can stop dicking around with this shit.”

Sonia’s heart twisted.

There you go. More proof she was just a kingly duty for Callum.

“Jesus, Calder,” Ryon (she would recognize later) muttered back, his voice sounding annoyed.

She didn’t let on she heard, but strangely Regan gave Calder a look when he sauntered in with the pack. A severe motherly look that made Calder ask, “What?”

To which Regan answered, “You know what.”

When Callum entered, he came directly to Sonia and curled an arm around her, bringing her body front to front with his.

“How you doing, honey?” he asked the top of her hair.

“Okay,” she lied to his chest and hoped it sounded like the truth.

It obviously didn’t because he pulled back and looked at her with searching eyes.

She didn’t know what to do to hide her thoughts from those intelligent eyes, so she used the only escape route available to her as she couldn’t run to a car and drive to the ends of the earth. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in massive chest.

This was the right thing to do. His body relaxed but his arms tightened around her and he gave her a squeeze.

She found out during breakfast that Callum and his father before him had been protecting her since her parents died. Ryon was what they called “the lead” of Sonia’s “detail.”

This meant they knew practically everything about her (except her injection). They knew about Gregor, Yuri, her schooling, her friends (such as they were), her shop, her house, everything.

This explained those benign presences Sonia felt since her parents died and she felt a strange sense of relief that she finally knew what they were. However, she told herself she didn’t feel a not-so-strange sense of warmth that Callum and his father had taken great pains to protect her since her parents died (but she did feel it).

Therefore, after breakfast, Ryon walked up to where Sonia was standing at the counter, scooting her pancake remains around on her plate. There were a lot of them, Regan made delicious pancakes, but Sonia wasn’t hungry.

He slid an arm around her shoulders, tucked her into his side, and teased, “As an apology for stalking you for thirty years, I told Regan you clearly had a thing for Christmas.” She looked up at him and he grinned down at her at which time she noticed he was nearly as good-looking as Callum. “Regan likes to shop, as those clothes you’re wearing lay testament to.” Sonia glanced at Regan in surprise and gratitude at learning Regan had supplied her wardrobe. She looked back to Ryon when he finished, “She ran out and got some decorations so you could have little bit of Christmas while you’re stuck up here. They’re out in the car.”

This was such a nice thing to do, Sonia’s mood lifted instantly and she had no idea just how much her expression brightened.

She also had no idea how much it transformed her “seriously pretty” face.

She further had no idea that Callum could see her plainly from where he was leaning at the end of the counter.

And no idea the intensity of the response Callum felt at seeing her expression.

She also didn’t know that she’d never, not once, looked at Callum with her expression shining and unguarded. She didn’t even cotton on when Ryon’s body went solid and he stared at her like he’d never seen a female before.

“Really?” she breathed. “You did that for me?”

He jolted at her words, a slow gorgeous smile spread on his face, and he replied, “Really.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Anything for my queen,” he mumbled, his green eyes going soft.

Not knowing what to do, but having been told by Callum that his people were affectionate, she gave him a little hurried and uncomfortable hug around his middle.

To this, Ryon dropped his head and rubbed his temple along her hair.

That temple thing, she thought, must be some sort of Callum’s People Gesture.

However, a split second after Ryon did it, Callum’s voice cracked through the room with, “Ry, fucking hell. Seriously?”

Ryon pulled away and looked at Callum who was scowling at them.

“She’s difficult to resist,” Ryon replied strangely but with an open, roguish grin.

“Try harder,” Callum returned, his voice flinty, clearly not finding whatever they were talking about amusing.

Ryon gave her a squeeze and let her go. Then the men went out to their SUV to get the Christmas decorations and Caleb came back.

Caleb still seemed in a surly mood but he gave Sonia a welcome to the family hug before tucking into his own pancakes.

They didn’t bring a tree and all the trimmings. But they did bring boughs for the mantels, Christmas lights, pretty playful ornaments and knickknacks of Santa Clauses, reindeers, and snowmen to put in the greenery. There were also matching fun candlestick holders for the coffee table with festive, wonderful-smelling green and red candles. And last, a big, plump, snowman cookie jar that Regan told Sonia they were going to fill by baking Christmas cookies.

The women got down to baking while the men drank coffee (Calder and Ryon) or dealt with the boughs and lights (Callum and Caleb).

It didn’t take long, but when it was all arranged, while Regan was rolling out dough and Sonia was cutting out gingerbread men, it transformed the space to almost magical.

And baking Christmas cookies like she did with her momma in that same kitchen so many years ago, with Christmas decorations in the house, jovial male voices and Regan’s musical one mingling around her, suddenly cut deeply through Sonia.

Therefore, Sonia froze mid-gingerbread man when Callum plugged in the lights to the mantel in the living room and she didn’t know she sucked in breath.

Regan heard it and her head turned to Sonia. “Sonia? Sweetheart?”

Sonia stared at the greenery on the mantel twinkling with lights and dangling with lively lovely ornaments and she remembered her mother’s decorated mantels in that very room.

“Sonia?” Regan called again but Sonia didn’t move.

It was too much. All of it.

Too much to take.

“Callum, something’s wrong with—” Regan started but Sonia was already drawn away from the dough, the cookie cutter pulled from her hand, and she was being turned toward Callum’s big body.

“Little one, look at me,” he demanded.

Automatically, she tipped her head back to look at him.

He took one look at her face and asked, “Jesus, honey, what’s the matter?”

She didn’t delay in replying. “The last time I was here, my momma’s decorations were on that mantel.”

She barely finished talking before she was yanked into his embrace, and when his warm body surrounded her, she lost it.

She burst into loud wracking sobs. It was embarrassing and it was weak, but it was also understandable.

Her life was terrible.

It had once been perfect when her mother and father were alive. Idyllic. Wonderful. She had been protected. She had been loved. She had been told she should be proud of who she was and the gifted things she could do. And she had lived her young life knowing her momma and papa were proud of her and those gifts.

Since then, all she’d had was Gregor, who wasn’t exactly loving, if he was always gruffly kind. And Yuri, who was also gruffly kind but decided not to be her brother-type-figure but instead wanted since she turned twenty-one (and he made no bones about it) to be her lover-and-husband-type-figure.

And without anyone knowing what she could do, much less being proud, she felt she was weird.

Because of that she had to hide her gifts and therefore had no true friends who knew her down to her every secret.

She was the mate to a man who didn’t want her.

She was the queen to a people she didn’t know.

She’d been attacked, kidnapped, and traumatized.

And now…

What?

What was she supposed to do?

She tipped her head back and wailed to Callum, “Now what do I do?”

He didn’t answer likely because he wasn’t in her head and didn’t know what she was on about.

Instead, he picked her up cradled in his arms and carried her to a chair, arranging her body in his lap, her face in his neck, then his arms tight around her.

“Well?” she demanded loudly into his neck.

“You cry it out, baby doll,” he answered. “Then, together, we’ll get on with it.”

Easy for him to say.

He was king. He could do whatever he wanted to do.

She was queen, which meant she just followed him around while he did whatever he wanted to do. Even though he didn’t want her, he would, if what Caleb alluded was true, find someone he did want.

Deciding to forget they were in the room (though she didn’t actually forget they were in the room), she declared, “Your family’s going to think I’m a loon.”

“Since they’re all pretty nuts,” Callum replied calmly, “you’ll fit in.”

She jerked her head back, glared at him, and demanded to know, “What are your people going to think of me?”

His big hand came to the side of her face and his thumb rubbed away the streaming tears.

Then his eyes went to hers and he replied, “They’re going to love you.”

How? she thought. He was never going to love her.

She decided to use the tactic that worked at hiding her thoughts earlier and buried her face in his neck.

Then she did as he suggested and cried it out.

While she did this, she heard Regan working silently in the kitchen and the men went out the back to let her have her moment.

When she smelled gingerbread men baking, she took a shaky breath, got herself under control, and told Callum’s neck, “I’m all right now.”

His hand sifted into her hair and twisted, using it to pull her head back gently, and his blue eyes scanned her face.

Then he said something in a quiet but firm voice that made her world tilt crazily.

“You’ve got a lot to get used to, baby doll, but I asked my family to come up here to show you that you’ve got family now to help you get used to it. The people in this cabin will fight and die for you. And they would never want to see you struggle, no matter what you’re struggling with. Know that in your soul and never forget it.”

She blinked at him (what else could she do!) and blurted, “I think your culture is very intense.”

His lips tipped up in a grin and he replied in a now teasing tone, “You’re learning.”

It was time to move on and away from Callum, who, when he was sweet (and intense and teasing) she could forget he was with her out of kingly duty.

“I want a gingerbread man cookie,” she announced.

His grin turned into a smile, she hated it that she loved his smile, and while she was thinking that, he replied, “Me too.”

 

* * * * *

 

Sonia wandered the room in her sexy, lacy, satiny nightgown, quickly turning off lamps and blowing out the fragrant candles.

Callum was in the bathroom changing for bed. His family had left just a little while ago.

Or, she should say, he kicked his family out just a little while ago.

While she was hugging Regan good-bye, she heard Callum, who had walked with the men down the path to the SUV, speaking to his cousin.

“I see you do that again, Ry, it won’t make me happy.”

Ryon’s voice was good-humored when he replied, “Relax, Cal.”

“I’ll relax knowing I’m never again going to stand in my kitchen watching my cousin mark my mate,” Callum returned.

The good humor left his tone when Ryon retorted, “I said relax.”

“She’s your queen,” Callum clipped.

“She’s also Sonia,” Ryon bit back. “Don’t fucking forget that, brother.”

Callum had no retort. Then again, she was just his queen to him.

Sonia didn’t let on she was hearing anything and anyway, she didn’t know what marking meant. She reckoned it was the temple thing but she could swear Regan heard them too. Though she couldn’t, the men were muttering under their breath and definitely not close. She could swear this because Regan’s mouth got a motherly tightness which she tried to hide when she smiled her final good-bye.

Callum and Sonia barely got back through the front door before he dragged her to the bathroom to give her the injection.

So that was why he threw his family out. Not because he was desperate to be alone with his mate after she’d accepted him.

Well, she figured he wouldn’t want his destined-by-the-oracles queen dying of a rare blood disorder. What would his people think?

She got under the covers and told herself she didn’t feel delicious anticipation that Callum was soon to be coming out bare-chested (when she did feel it).

He came into the room moments later and she watched in what she told herself wasn’t avid fascination (when it was) as he went directly to the mantel to unplug the Christmas lights.

“Don’t!” she blurted and he turned to her in question. “I like to sleep with them on. Can you sleep with them on?” she finished.

“I’ve slept in rain and snow and mud,” he told her. “I can sleep with Christmas lights on.”

Why on earth was he sleeping in rain and snow and mud?

She wanted to know but she didn’t ask.

She didn’t ask because he came directly to bed, and unlike the two nights before where he kept his distance, he curled right into her. Spooning her body with his arm around her waist, his face went into her neck.

Her body grew stiff.

Good goodness, he wanted to have sex. Mate with her so in the eyes of his people she’d be his queen and then he could stop “dicking around” up here with her.

Holy cow.

“Relax, honey,” he said into her neck, pulling her closer.

She did not think so.

“I’m really tired,” she told him.

“Then sleep,” he said back.

Did he think he could have sex with her while she was sleeping?

Oh good goodness!

“Actually,” she said quickly, “I thought maybe we could talk.”

This seemed to be perfectly all right with him because he pulled his face out of her neck, rested his head on the pillow, and cuddled her closer.

“What do you want to talk about?” he asked.

Oh no. Now what had she done?

“Um…” she started.

He chuckled into the back of her hair and then said softly, “Baby doll, you’ve had another tough day. Thwarted escape, coming to terms with your destiny, meeting the in-laws, emotional breakdowns. I’m not going to come on to you after a day like that.”

Well, that was a relief. It was even nice.

And, actually, sweet.

Luckily, he spoke, pulling her thoughts away from him being sweet. “Why do you want the Christmas lights on?”

“I like sleeping with them on,” she told him.

“Yes, I guessed that. You had them on in your bedroom at your house too. I’m asking why.”

She shrugged, willing to talk but she’d never be willing to let him in, and replied, “I just like Christmas.”

He was silent a moment and then he sighed.

“We’ll let that go for now.”

At last, something to be thankful for. Callum, at least, was going to let her keep her own thoughts to herself.

For now.

“I’ll try something else,” he said.

She expressed her thanks to the cosmos too soon.

Callum went on, “You want to tell me why your entire house is clinical and pristine and not anywhere someone would want to spend time but your bedroom is the opposite?”

“My house is lovely,” she retorted.

“It is,” he agreed. “In a clinical, pristine, not anywhere someone would want to spend time kind of way.”

Her body got stiff again. “Callum.”

“But you’re bedroom,” he broke in. “That’s a place you want to stay awhile.”

She felt her pulse quicken on the thought that Callum thought her bedroom was somewhere he wanted to stay awhile.

However, he probably wanted to do it in someone else’s company.

She decided to let him in just a little bit in order to get this over with.

“Gregor can be…” she tried to find the word, “daunting and he has a lot of opinions that he doesn’t mind sharing.”

“What’s that got to do with your house?”

“He didn’t like me buying that house so, to shut him up, I decorated it in a way he’d like,” she answered. “But my bedroom is mine. It’s my private space, a space where I can be who I’m meant to be.”

His arm curled tighter around her belly and she felt his face in her hair.

“You can be who you’re meant to be everywhere, honey. Just do it. Who gives a fuck about Gregor’s opinion?”

“I do. He raised me. I owe him,” she replied.

Callum’s face came out of her hair and he said firmly, “You don’t owe that man dick.”

“I know you don’t like him,” she whispered, finding it bizarre in the extreme he knew so much about her and that their lives had been intermingled for so long and in different ways, none of which she knew about. “Your mom told me your dad didn’t get along with him. But, for all this time, he was all I had. And he wasn’t great at it, but I knew he tried hard and he took care of me. You might not like him, Callum, but he means something to me, he took care of me, and he did the best he could.”

There was silence then she felt his face burrow back into her hair and he thankfully let it go.

“Your bedroom reminds me of this cabin when I first bought it,” he told her.

“I’m not surprised.” She was still whispering. “I always thought of this place as home. I guess, with my bedroom, I was trying to recreate a little bit of home.”

He pulled her ever deeper into his body but lifted his head to nuzzle her with his temple.

When he stopped, he muttered in her ear, “You’re home now.” Then he kissed her neck softly which made a happy shiver run from her neck, down her spine.

She was far from home, she knew.

She’d never be home again, she knew that too.

But, as ever, this was as good as it was going to get.

On that thought, she relaxed into him. He read her mood, stopped talking, and shortly after, with the Christmas lights twinkling, she fell asleep in Callum’s arms.