Duty
CALLUM PULLED HIS SUV into the sweeping drive of The Territorial Mansion.
As he did he realized during the two and a half hour drive his mind was so focused on what was happening amongst his people, and what he had to do about it, both imminently and in the near future, he’d not said a word to Sonia.
He glanced toward her in the passenger seat and noted her eyes were studying the mansion with curiosity.
Fuck, she was pretty, sitting beside him, wearing an ice-blue thermal, a pale pink quilted vest with a collar that framed the elegant line of her neck, a woolly pastel green scarf wrapped around that neck and dangling down the front, and slightly faded jeans that rode low on her hips and cupped her ass brilliantly. He’d given her the tan leather low-heeled boots his mother bought her that he’d kept outside in the truck and she’d chosen a belt that matched.
At the cabin, while he called Ryon and Caleb to brief them on what he wanted them to do prior to his arrival, he’d allowed her time to put on a light coat of makeup and dry her thick blonde hair so it fell in sleek gleaming waves down her shoulders and back.
Examining her loveliness, the casual flair with which she wore her clothes, remembering their morning, knowing his chain hung about her hips, still hearing her heated cries and feeling her pulsating around his cock with her uninhibited orgasm, Callum felt elated.
Today, his people were going to meet their queen.
And she was fucking perfect.
“We’re here,” he told her, slowing as they approached the wide-stepped entry to the mansion.
“Where’s . . .” she hesitated, still staring at the building, “here?”
“Territorial Mansion of the Western Territories of the Americas,” he replied absentmindedly, his thoughts moving from the pleasant ones of Sonia to the unpleasant ones of what he would soon be forced to do, not knowing his words would sound preposterous to her as to him, they did not.
He knifed out of the car and to his vague displeasure saw she’d alighted without his assistance by the time he rounded the back to her side.
He looked up to the building and saw two of his warriors standing guard.
They appeared to be standing outside chatting as the mansion, even though it had extensive walled gardens and its function was governmental, was ensconced within the city and open for passersby to see. Humans thought it housed a large wealthy family with a goodly number of friends, though the United States government knew differently. But humans had no idea its purpose and therefore soldiers guarding the doors would seem unusual. When amongst humans, wolves did their utmost to appear “normal,” and because of that, the men, who were guards, looked like they were having a casual chat.
Callum guided Sonia away from her opened door and closed it. Then he took her hand and led her up the stairs.
His two soldiers bowed their heads briefly to their king and queen, their eyes inquisitive on Sonia, grins on their faces.
Sonia automatically smiled back and nodded, not regally, sociably, as if she was walking down the street, caught a passerby’s eye, and gave them a warm neighborly smile.
At her gesture, his warriors’ grins turned to wide smiles.
Callum’s hand tightened in hers.
Yes, Callum thought, his people were going to love her.
They entered the large entryway that led to a long, wide hall.
Ryon and Caleb were walking toward them. Caleb was carrying a thin manila folder.
“All’s ready,” Caleb called.
“I’ll want to read the briefing report before I go in,” Callum replied.
Caleb nodded and he and Ryon turned and walked back a short distance toward a closed door. They opened it, stepped through, and Callum and Sonia followed.
It was Mona’s office, complete with baronial desk, gleaming wood floors on which large, thick, expensive Persian rugs lay, priceless antique furniture and heavy ornate curtains at the tall wide windows.
He saw Sonia looking around, her eyes wide taking in the opulence. Seeing what his mate saw, Callum distractedly noted with some scorn that Mona’s penchant toward lavishness was evident in the government building she’d overseen creating. These were not the usual surroundings of a wolf, nothing like it.
He stopped them close to Mona’s desk, leaned a hip against it, brought Sonia in close, dropped her hand, and held his own out for the file, which Caleb gave him.
His mother had stood by his father’s side in everything. This was the queen’s purpose, a physical show of support to the king as well as the demonstration of the solidarity of all wolves.
Regan had been with Mac during strategy sessions and on campaigns. Though she didn’t fight, she also didn’t complain when her accommodation was just a tent or two beds pushed together in a barrack with blankets strung around them for privacy. Also she had been at his side during summits, diplomatic assemblies, and war tribunals.
As queen, Regan performed her duties silently. Her presence was all that was required. Her understanding of events would be important during the private times she shared with Mac. She could hardly offer him what he needed if she didn’t know what was happening.
There were times of separation, but they were brief and they were rare.
Sonia, Callum had decided, would do the same.
Without a word, he opened the file and began reading the report.
He felt Sonia move away and heard her say softly, “Hi, Ryon.”
He glanced up and saw Sonia lift up on her toes and press her cheek to Ryon’s then she leaned back and tipped her head to smile up at him.
“Hey there, Sonia,” Ryon smiled down at her in turn. “How are you handling this? It’s all a bit weird, isn’t it?”
“Um . . .” she mumbled, the smile never leaving her face and the way she said her next words pointedly reflected they were an understatement, “A bit.”
Ryon chuckled.
Sonia’s smile brightened.
Callum’s jaw tightened.
Ryon had a way with female humans, Callum knew that.
He just didn’t appreciate—at all—Ryon using it with Callum’s very recently and definitely spectacularly claimed bride.
But it was something his cousin didn’t hesitate doing, either yesterday or now. It was also something Sonia responded to, and further, it was something Callum didn’t fucking like.
Before he could say anything, Sonia turned to Caleb and said, “Hi, Caleb.”
She leaned into Callum’s brother and gave him a cheek touch and a smile as well but it was nowhere near as fond as the one she gave Ryon.
Still, Callum noted that even Caleb was grinning down at her with a rapt expression on his face, as if bewitched.
“Hey there, sis.” Caleb made a reply that caused Sonia’s body to twitch.
“I’ve never really been a ‘sis,’” she whispered wistfully.
“You are now.”
Then Caleb received a bright smile from Callum’s bride.
Callum felt his temper rising, and because of this, when he said, “Sonia,” her name lashed through the room sharp and annoyed.
She started and turned to him, her eyes confused, her face growing pale.
“Come here,” Callum ordered and she hesitated briefly but moved to his side.
Both Ryon and Caleb looked at him. Ryon with annoyance. Caleb, Callum was surprised to see, with barely concealed anger.
He ignored their expressions, looked down at Sonia, and instructed, “The queen belongs at the king’s side.”
“I was three feet away,” she replied quietly, her face growing even paler.
“The queen belongs at the king’s side,” he repeated, watched her swallow and felt the air around them growing thick, this coming from his family.
His gaze sliced through his brethren, nonverbally making his displeasure known, and he looked back down at the papers.
He read the three page report and the words erased Sonia, Ryon, and Caleb from his mind.
He flipped the folder shut and looked at Ryon.
“Bloody hell, Mona’s an idiot,” he remarked.
“Always was,” Ryon returned.
“Mac fucked up, installing her as Governor of this Territory,” Callum noted with frustration, handing the file back to Caleb.
Mac had left him with a rebellion, which, in a year with studied brutality, he’d quashed, forcing their signature on a treaty they vowed never to sign, and four short years later, they broke.
Other than that, and the occasional insurrection which was normal amongst intense, temperamental, and often quarrelling wolves, Mac’s realm was peaceful and ordered.
There was no mess.
Except Mona.
“He thought it was a diplomatic move,” Ryon replied, his eyes sliding to Sonia. “Titium was displeased with what went on.” Ryon looked back at Callum. “And he’d make a formidable enemy.”
Callum knew this.
During their brief fling ages ago, something which Callum engaged in regularly, a fact he thought Mona understood as every she-wolf did, she’d become infatuated with him. Because of her obsession, scraping her off had been unpleasant and eventually diplomatically sensitive.
Titium, Governor of Europe and a highly respected warrior, had spoiled his daughter. What she wanted, Titium gave her. Unfortunately, Mona was ambitious as well as obsessive. In order for her to leave his son alone, Mac had installed her as Governor of the then sparsely populated Western Territories of America.
They’d all been surprised when she’d been passably skilled at handling her province over the years, even as it emerged and populated.
They’d also all been surprised when the years passed and she never found her lifemate, something which his father knew would turn her attention away from Callum.
However, apparently, since Mac’s death, she’d lost focus on her responsibilities.
This, too, Callum understood and it irritated him.
Callum was now king and the spoiled ambitious Mona would want his attention even more than before. And she’d want it so desperately, it wouldn’t matter what form that attention would take.
She’d want it enough to fuck up and draw him to her territories. Something which, unless there was an insurrection, Callum, and Mac before him, rarely had to do as his other Governors ruled their provinces efficiently. In fact, it was something the Governors took pains in not doing because Callum’s attention, unless it was for an official ceremony or a social visit, wasn’t something they’d seek.
It was likely the she-wolf probably didn’t even know she was doing it.
Callum took Sonia’s hand and moved toward the door, muttering, “Let’s do this.”
“Hang on,” Ryon called and Callum stopped, pulling Sonia to his side.
“Have you briefed her on protocol?” Ryon asked, getting close.
“Sorry?” Callum replied, his thoughts anywhere but on protocol, which was something, as king, he didn’t have to concern himself with. Only those around him did.
Ryon gave him an aggravated scowl but turned gentled eyes to Sonia.
“Sonia, you’re about to walk into a throne room in the official capacity as our queen,” he explained softly. “Everyone in that room will bow to you and Callum. If you were alone, you’d walk to the throne, seat yourself, and tell them to rise. As you’re with Callum, you don’t say anything. Don’t speak at all until Callum tells you that you can. He’ll lead you to the throne and give the order. In a minute, as this happens, people will talk, but you won’t. Your duty is to observe in silence, don’t say a word. But pay attention, love, to everything that’s going on. You’ll understand why later. Okay?”
Callum found he was annoyed with himself that he hadn’t thought to instruct her on the way down the mountain.
He found himself further annoyed that Sonia was gazing up at Ryon with open gratitude.
She nodded to Ryon. Callum gave her hand a tug, and without looking at her, he led a silent Sonia through the mansion and up the wide staircase to the throne room.
The doors were opened as they approached and he heard Sonia take in a surprised breath before he guided her through.
The room was filled with his warriors and the mansion’s detail. Every one of them, including Mona, who was standing at the foot of the dais, dropped into the deep, heads lowered, ceremonial bow.
He strode through the room, hand in hand with Sonia whose step had faltered. Looking down at her, he saw her staring in fearful awe at the fifty large wolves who were bowed low.
He lifted her hand and tucked it under his arm, drawing her closer to him in an effort to offer her comfort.
She looked up at him, her eyes still startled, and he nodded down at her but didn’t wait for her response and led her up the stairs to the throne sitting there.
Without delay, as his father had done before him and every king, prince, duke, governor or noble in history did with their mate, he sat on the throne and pulled her into his lap.
Instantly, she made a surprised noise and tried to jerk away.
His arms tightened around her, he gave her a warning shake, and her alarmed gaze flashed to his. Whatever she saw there made her stare, then her eyes went blank and her body settled into his.
“Rise,” he commanded, the assemblage took their feet and all eyes turned to the throne.
He knew what they saw.
If he’d not claimed her, she’d be standing at the right side of his throne.
But, claimed and bound, now their queen, she was in his lap.
He felt another thrill of elation, understanding the overwhelming importance of the occasion as did everyone in the room.
Everyone except, he didn’t think to note, Sonia.
Watching their eyes scan Sonia, he allowed himself a moment to glory in it, knowing what they saw. Even if it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with fate, he was still exceedingly proud of it.
Then he commenced business.
Not looking at Mona, he searched the room and focused on Mona’s Lieutenant Governor.
“Saint,” he called and the tall warrior walked toward the dais.
Callum knew Saint well. Saint had fought alongside Callum. He was a strong crafty warrior and a good friend. Thirty-one years ago, Mac had installed Saint at Mona’s side to make certain she didn’t discover Sonia’s existence and to keep an eye on Mona.
He’d done both.
As was standard practice, Saint had also been interrogated, but not surprisingly he had no connection to the plot or, until recently, any idea the rebellion had chosen the Western Territories to assemble.
He had no idea because Mona didn’t.
However, it had been Saint who’d cottoned on something was happening. He’d uncovered the plot against Sonia and revealed it to Callum.
Over the years, Saint had been reporting with growing frequency that working with Mona was becoming more and more of a chore.
Callum, unfortunately, knew everything about Mona was a chore and hadn’t thought much of it.
This was his mistake.
He was about to rectify it.
When Saint stopped at the foot of the dais, Callum spoke. “By the end of the day, I’ll want a shortlist of names of those you feel would best replace Desdemona as Governor of this Territory.” Callum heard Mona’s angry gasp and felt Sonia go still in his arms, but he continued, “If you’re interested, put your name at the top of that list.”
“Yes, your grace,” Saint replied, relief in his eyes and a small smile tugging at his lips.
Callum’s gaze went to Mona. “Desdemona, I’m removing you as Governor, effective immediately.”
She leaned forward and started, “But, your grace—”
“Under your nose, a rebellion amassed in your Territory,” he announced, cutting her off. “You’re well aware that one of the most important parts of your duty is to be my eyes and ears in this region and to inform me if there’s news of an insurrection. Nevertheless, you’ve flagrantly ignored missives from Scotland as to how to oversee your people to make certain that didn’t happen. This meant they knew your region was weak and targeted it. There were even two amongst your personal guard who were involved. Further, because of your personal failings, for thirty-one years you put my father and me in a disadvantageous position because we couldn’t trust you and your guard to protect my queen. Now we have a situation where, if you were doing your job, you would have sorted it and it would not have required my attention or I would have been aware of it long before now. But it’s far worse. It’s a situation where known rebels have accumulated in your region, they’ve conspired to break the treaty, and all of this has placed my queen at risk.”
“King Callum—” Mona began.
Callum interrupted her tersely, “Mona, you best not speak. We both know your rule of this province has been a joke since it started.”
Her beautiful face twisted, and, unwisely, she ignored his command and stated, “Your father never complained.”
“That wasn’t my father’s way,” Callum returned.
“My father—” she began, her tone turning threatening.
“Your father has no choice but to accept this decision,” Callum retorted. “You’re released,” he declared with finality. He watched her body jolt and her temper flair but continued, “For placing my queen in jeopardy, you should be punished. But with respect to your father, instead, I’m giving you a year to find your mate and settle. After that year, if you don’t, you’ll be sequestered.”
Her face paled before it flushed and she breathed, “Sequestered?”
“Is that not what we do when one of our females refuses to seek her mate?” Callum inquired.
“But that’s for . . . it’s for . . .” she paused and snapped, “for females who are mad!”
“Prove your sanity,” Callum invited and saw her face change in a way he, in his impatience and anger with her, and his father in his kindness and diplomacy, had heretofore missed.
Desdemona, daughter of Titium, wasn’t stupid, spoiled, and ambitious.
She wasn’t nuts.
She was fucking crazy.
“I’ve no need to find my mate—” she started to declare.
“Desdemona—” Callum tried to break in.
She continued mutinously, “Because he’s sitting right in front of me!”
The air grew dense with shock and the sounds of shuffling feet. Sonia’s already tight body turned to marble against his frame and he heard her soft intake of breath.
Ryon approached to put an end to Mona’s insolence but Callum lifted a hand to stop him.
The deeper she dug her grave, the deeper Callum could bury her in it, and he wanted her buried so deep he never had to see her face again.
“You declare this in front of your queen?” Callum asked with deceptive calm.
“Years ago, I felt the connection,” she threw out. “And, no matter what you say, Cal, you did too. I know it.”
Sonia’s body moved, those movements were slight but filled with disquiet.
He gave his mate a comforting squeeze before he said derisively, “Hardly, Desdemona.”
“What we had was good!” she cried desperately, leaning farther forward.
“What we had was sex,” Callum returned dismissively and Sonia jerked in his arms, which didn’t squeeze comfortingly this time, they tightened.
“I’m consort to a king!” Mona declared madly, moving up the steps.
Ryon shot forward, hooked an arm firmly around her waist, and stopped her.
Callum’s voice lowered, but even so, he knew every wolf in the room could hear.
“You were nothing but a fuck, Mona. A good one, but I’d had better before,” he moved slightly, his eyes never leaving Mona as he rubbed his temple against Sonia’s hair, making his message clear before he murmured, “And definitely better since.”
He heard Sonia’s breathing escalate as he saw her chest start to rise and fall with agitation, but she kept her seat which satisfied him. This was an intense situation amongst a passionate people, something she wasn’t used to but she was handling herself, as he had guessed she would, brilliantly.
Mona didn’t handle herself nearly as well.
Fighting against Ryon’s hold, she snapped, “But she’s blonde. You hate blondes.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” Callum returned coolly.
To that, Mona’s arms went ramrod straight, her face grew red, and she shrieked, “She is not our queen. She’s fucking human.”
Irreverence to his queen spoken aloud during an official assembly in a throne room.
Callum held back his smile.
Mona was so deep, even Titium couldn’t dig her out.
“Get her out of here, Ry,” he ordered.
“Released to find her mate?” Ryon asked, his lips twitching.
“Fuck no. Sequester her,” Callum answered.
“No!” Mona shrieked while she struggled.
“Okeydoke,” Ryon muttered and a few wolves chuckled.
Sonia, he noted vaguely, had clenched her fists.
As Ryon handed Mona off to two warriors who led her struggling body out of the room, Caleb climbed the dais and stood at his right side. Then his deep voice rang out in the vast room.
“Are there those in this company who have issue with our human queen?”
No one spoke.
Caleb went on, “Are there those whose allegiance lies with Desdemona?”
More silence.
Caleb’s voice then announced loudly, “Then behold our new queen!”
Everyone looked at Sonia. Sonia blushed.
“You’re laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you, brother?” Callum muttered.
There were several chuckles, a few full-blown laughs, and a room full of smiles.
“I thought the situation warranted it,” Caleb replied with a bold grin as he leaned against the side of his brother’s throne.
Callum threw him a look then turned his head, his mouth seeking Sonia’s ear, and he asked softly, “Would you like to meet your warriors, baby doll?”
She twisted her neck and her green eyes searched his. She pulled in breath through her nose and finally nodded.
He stood up, lifting her to her feet. He slid his arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side.
To his men in the room, he stated, his voice proclaiming proudly, “It’s time for you to meet Sonia.”
“Jesus, it’s brilliant finally to have something to do,” Calder announced, sitting back in his chair and grinning broadly.
Callum studied his brother from his seat behind a desk cluttered with the remains of the meal they’d eaten there while going through intelligence reports and notes on interrogations. For hours, throughout all of this, except for when Caleb had escorted her to the bathroom, Sonia had sat silently in his lap, even when they ate.
Calder, Callum knew, if he had not been of royal blood, would undoubtedly be the leader of an insurrection. All wolves had an abundance of energy, a zest for life, strength in their opinions, and none of them shied away from a fight.
Calder was all that and a great deal more.
Calder, more impatient and volatile even than Callum, was a brilliant warrior, if a flawed strategist, who appeared to be at his most relaxed in the middle of a bloody battle.
His brother, Callum decided, needed to find his fucking mate.
And his brother, Callum decided, once this was finished, would go on a quest to seek her. He’d hand down the order himself.
“Though,” Calder went on, his eyes flashing to Sonia before he grinned. “It’s disappointing that we’re not going to have the Mating Ceremony. You’d love that, Sonia,” he told her. “Our people like a good party and a Mating is the fucking best.”
“Maybe after this is over, Callum will give Sonia a ceremony,” Ryon suggested, his eyes soft on Callum’s mate.
Callum’s eyes were anything but soft on his cousin.
Jesus, if he didn’t know better, he’d think Ryon had a thing for her.
“A Royal Mating is even better,” Caleb threw in, also grinning at Sonia. “A fucking blast.”
Sonia grinned back at Caleb and Callum’s arms gave her a squeeze to capture her attention.
This worked, her face swung to his.
“Would you like that, little one?” he asked gently.
She regarded him a moment before she shrugged.
“We’ll talk about it later,” he told her and she nodded. Callum looked at Saint. “Are our quarters prepared?”
Sonia’s body jerked in his arms but Callum’s attention was on Saint who was answering. “Yes, actually. They have been since you arrived. Mona ordered it.”
“At least she did something,” Caleb muttered and Saint laughed.
“Callum,” Ryon called and Callum’s gaze swung to his cousin and saw his eyes were still on Callum’s bride. “Since this is going to go down here, and you’ll likely be here awhile, why don’t you stay at Sonia’s?”
At Ryon’s words, Sonia instantly relaxed in Callum’s arms and he caught her throwing Ryon another very grateful smile.
“Fuck, Ryon, what are you on about? The king always stays at the mansion,” Calder put in.
“Yes, and a female of our kind would know and be prepared for that,” Ryon replied patiently. “A human in the process of being initiated to our culture, which is probably a bit overwhelming, Calder, might like the comforts of home while she gets oriented.”
Sonia pressed her lips together and sighed, clearly agreeing with his cousin.
Callum would never have considered this. Then again, Callum had very little experience with female humans except, of course, fucking them.
“Would you like to go home, Sonia?” he asked, her head tipped back instantly and she nodded, this time happily, with her eyes bright on him, to which he smiled and murmured, “Then we’ll take you home.”
Which was where they were going now.
It was high time for her injection and after their play this morning he was impatient to have her again.
Further, the idea of having her in her sweet welcoming bedroom lit by Christmas lights was an idea he liked greatly. He just hoped the cleaners he’d commanded to be sent to her house had successfully scoured away all traces of the bloody mess he’d made of her two attackers.
He stood, taking Sonia with him, and setting her on her feet. “Calder, you’re off tonight,” he told his brother and Calder nodded. He then looked at Saint. “We’ll meet tomorrow to discuss the turnover.” Saint lifted his chin and Callum then looked at Ryon and Caleb. “You know what to do.” They both nonverbally indicated they understood his order.
Then he took Sonia’s hand and led her from the room.
His SUV was at the bottom of the steps where he’d left it and he helped Sonia into her seat before taking his own, starting the truck, and pointing them toward her farmhouse.
He’d driven several miles before the silence in the cab caught his attention and it finally occurred to him that Sonia had another full, turbulent, likely mystifying day.
“You okay?” he asked.
She was silent.
“Baby doll?” he prompted, not taking his eyes from the road.
She remained silent.
He glanced at her to see her arms were crossed on her chest, the bag filled with her medication in her lap, and she was glaring through the windscreen.
“Sonia?”
“Oh, am I allowed to speak now?” she queried sarcastically.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she snapped. “Just take me home.”
Fucking hell. She was pissed about something.
“Sonia, tell me what’s bothering you,” he ordered gently.
“Nothing. I’m perfectly fine and I’ll be more fine when I’m finally home.”
Callum decided that was probably not true because it appeared they would be arguing when they arrived at her home. He wasn’t going to engage in one in the truck. Further, he had to take that time to control his temper that she obviously didn’t realize today, regardless of how delightfully it started, the rest had been unpleasant for him to say the least. Furthermore, the coming days, or weeks, and (although he hoped to God not) possibly months would be busy and taxing.
Therefore she’d failed in her responsibility to provide him what he’d thought he’d explained to her during their second day at the cabin was her duty to provide. An outlet. A release. Be that in the form of a casual conversation in an SUV about his day, holding her cuddled on her sweet bed in her sweet room and talking with her about his concerns about his people, or fucking her so hard that when she came she cried out his name.
The latter of which was how he definitely decided he’d like to process his day.
And that was exactly how he was going to do it.
He turned into the short drive at the side of her house, parking behind the door of her garage, and he shut off the engine.
She didn’t wait for him to help her from the SUV (another issue he had with her that he decided, astutely, to bring up later). She dropped down from the truck and stormed up to her dark house.
She stood at her front door, arms crossed, her bag with her meds dangling from her fingers, as he took his time (to calm his temper further, an effort which failed) sauntering to her house.
“I don’t have the key,” she told him when he arrived at her side using a voice that made this clear it was an accusation.
He had her key.
Saint had given it to him the day he’d arrived. It was on the ring with his truck keys, his SUV being something else Saint had provided for him.
He used the key to let them in while she glared at his key ring like she was willing it to combust in his fingers.
When they entered, her alarm started beeping. She turned to it and punched in the code then stomped into the house.
Callum took off his coat while slowly Christmas lights, inside and out, started twinkling from everywhere.
Callum glanced around.
Ryon wasn’t wrong. Sonia seriously had a thing about Christmas.
He listened to her tramping around upstairs as he went to her clean pristine kitchen and opened the fridge, praying she had beer.
She didn’t.
She didn’t even have a bottle of chilled white wine.
He was searching the cupboards for spirits when she stormed in, having divested herself of her vest and scarf, and her eyes narrowed on her mail neatly piled on the counter.
“I see someone’s been taking care of my house,” she announced ungraciously and walked to the mail, snatching it from the counter. Not looking at him, she shuffled through it while she demanded to know, “Did you arrange that?”
“Yes,” he replied, turning back to open another cabinet in which he saw, thankfully, she had a number of bottles of liquor, and one of them, to his great fortune, contained a very good whisky.
“I shudder to think of the state of my store considering I disappeared into thin air during Christmas season.” She aimed a glare in his direction as he discovered where she kept her glasses. “My girls are probably freaked!”
“Only if they have the uncanny ability of clairvoyance,” Callum replied calmly. “Regan arranged for one of our people, a woman who has a goodly amount of retail experience considering her mate owns Harrinton’s department stores, to tell them you had an urgent situation that called you away but arranged for her to manage the store in your absence.”
This knowledge gave her a start, as it would considering there was a Harrinton’s in every exclusive mall in the country. They were highly lucrative ventures and were known as the elite shopping experience.
He ignored her reaction and the fact that she didn’t express her gratitude as she had to Ryon three times when he’d displayed his thoughtfulness, and turned to pour his whisky.
She threw her mail on the counter and stomped from the room.
He listened to her crashing around upstairs as he turned his hips to the counter, sipped his whisky, and practiced controlled breathing.
This didn’t help.
Some time later, he put his empty glass on the counter, switched off the light, and followed her up the stairs.
He found her in her bedroom wearing a silvery-gray knit nightgown with a thin edge of white lace at the bodice and hem. The nightgown hugged her curves and came down to her knees. Her face was cleaned of makeup and she was throwing back the covers on the bed.
“Sonia, it’s time for your injection,” he told her.
“Yes, it was. That’s why I gave it to myself,” she retorted, climbing on the bed, and seating herself with her shoulders against the headboard.
At this news Callum’s body went still as his anger escalated exponentially.
“I’m sorry?” he asked quietly.
She nabbed a tube from her nightstand. Not looking at him, she squirted lotion into her hand, bent forward, and started to massage it into her foot.
“I gave it to myself,” she repeated.
The only thing from the cabin she’d packed was her medication. She didn’t need anything else, his people would see to the dirty laundry and food. And, as they’d be returning, hopefully soon, it would be good that she had clothes and toiletries there. In fact, he’d order her to stock what she needed so they could return there at his whim.
He came into the room and stopped at the foot of her bed.
“I thought I explained I’d be giving you your injections.”
She shifted her attention to her other foot but not to him. “You did.”
“Sonia, look at me,” he demanded.
She slammed the tube of lotion down on her nightstand and then turned to face him. Or, more accurately, glare at him.
“I’ll not tolerate another defiance like that again,” he stated.
Her head tilted to the side. “You won’t? Well then . . .” she leaned forward and snapped, “good. Because you won’t be defied because you won’t be around.”
He felt his muscles grow taut as his control on his temper started slipping.
“Perhaps you’d like to explain that,” he invited in a way that said, very clearly, she wouldn’t.
Recklessly, she did it anyway.
“After today, I’ve decided I don’t want to be your queen. After today, I’ve decided I don’t want anything to do with you. Not,” she stated boldly, “your people, who all seem very nice, except that crazy woman who was, sadly, though you didn’t seem to notice it, not well at all. But you. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“Little one,” he advised softly as he moved to the side of the bed, “I’d stop talking now.”
“You would? Well, of course you would, since all day you’ve been saying a lot but not much of it good. However, since I haven’t been allowed to talk nearly all day, I’ve got a lot of words left in my stockpile.”
He stopped beside the bed and watched her nab a tub, open it, and start to rub moisturizer in her face.
And he watched her do this as he sought patience.
Finally, he explained, “As Ryon told you, you weren’t allowed to speak in the throne room. You didn’t speak of your own accord the rest of the day. I thought you were quiet because you were letting things sink in.”
She slapped the tub down and looked up to him. “I wasn’t. I had no idea what was going on! No one told me anything. Including the fact I could speak, which, I will note, you didn’t even notice I didn’t!”
“Sonia—”
“However,” she broke in, “the fact that I can’t for any length of time is . . . is . . . medieval! And that you made me sit in your lap during that . . . that . . . whatever-it-was, was . . .” She paused and cried, “I don’t even know what it was!”
“What it was, was the way of my people,” he told her.
“What it was, was your way because you are king,” she shot back, grabbing another tube. “Which brings us back to my earlier point that I’m done with this queen business. Done. You can go now,” she finished, dismissing him.
Dismissing him.
Callum lost what hold he had on his patience at the same time he lost his temper.
She’d opened the tube and started to squirt something in her palm when Callum tore it from her hand and tossed it on her nightstand. It skidded through all of the other tubes, bottles, and tubs sitting there, leaking lotion the entire way, and she glared at the mess.
He leaned down, grabbed her ankles, and hauled her down the bed.
“What are you—?”
He then entered the bed and settled his weight on top of her.
“Get off me,” she demanded, shoving at his shoulders and writhing underneath him.
“Sonia, look at me.”
“Get off!”
“Look at me, goddamn it!” he roared, she stilled and glared at him. “You want instruction, I’ll give it to you but you fucking look at me when I’m speaking to you and you better fucking pay attention.”
“You have my attention, King Callum,” she retorted sarcastically and he sucked in breath at her tone.
Then he spoke. “Do not disrespect me even in private,” he said evenly, calmly, her eyes narrowed but she snapped her mouth shut. “Good thinking,” he approved tersely and went on, “I, obviously, should have explained this more clearly earlier but I didn’t. Now I am. The queen’s duty is to support her king. You stand by my side or sit in my lap, however I want it, and you listen, you learn, and then, after I perform my duties, which can often be not so much fucking fun, you’re available for me.”
“Available for you?” she asked angrily.
“Available for me,” he repeated.
“And what does that mean?”
“It means whatever the fuck I want it to mean.”
She stared at him, he watched realization dawn, then she rolled her eyes to the headboard and muttered, “I was right . . . medieval.”
“Sonia—”
Her eyes rolled back to his and she stated tartly, “Get off me, Callum. You didn’t give me a choice but I choose no. This is the twenty-first century and my culture doesn’t tell women to be silent nor do men make women sit in their laps during official proceedings.”
“My culture does,” he returned. “And I did give you the choice and you jumped at it, I’ll remind you, pretty fucking gleefully. While you sat connected to me, I asked you if you were mine. You didn’t fucking hesitate saying yes. Then, the minute you reared into my cock when you were on your knees with my chain around your waist, you embraced my culture, and there’s no going back now.”
Her eyes grew wide in horror before she snapped, “That’s crazy!”
“That may be, but you did it. After twenty years of dreaming of me and not having me you were obviously gagging for it and the minute you got your chance you fucking jumped at it. Or more to the point, opened your legs for it, rode it, and fucking ground into it, moaning the whole goddamned time.”
Her head jerked and her voice lowered, sounding hurt, but Callum was too angry to notice. “Please tell me you didn’t just say that.”
“I did because you did,” he returned. “And I know you’ll do it again.”
Her wide eyes widened further and her body froze beneath his.
“Callum—”
He dipped his face closer to hers and his tone was deadly when he asked, “You want to know why I know that, little one?”
“Callum—”
“Because you’re not going anywhere. I’m fucking well not going anywhere. Right now, you’re going to perform your queenly duties by letting me use that sweet little body of yours to deal with my day and you’re going to love every . . . fucking . . . minute of it.”
She opened her mouth to speak.
Or yell.
But Callum got there first.
Sliding a hand in her hair and fisting it, he held her head steady and kissed her, rough and hard, his tongue invading and seizing.
She fought him the entire time.
Making furious noises in her throat, she bucked under him, pushed at him, and when that didn’t work, she scratched him.
He felt her nails ripping through his shirt, piercing his skin. He tore his mouth away from hers at the pain and she took advantage. Rolling him slightly away from her, she slid out from under him and nearly got to her feet when he tagged her at the waist and tossed her back to the bed.
She grunted with frustrated rage and renewed her attack and Callum found, to his utter delight, she was a vicious and cunning little fighter who’d not only rival, but best any she-wolf of his experience.
So as not to harm her using his full strength with which he could break her in two, he wasn’t able to subdue her. Their rough play continued and he enjoyed every fucking second of it.
Their breathing escalated and he noticed her struggles diminish. Her pushing had turned to touching. She’d started biting him and in doing so, used her tongue liberally. And he could feel her gliding her nose along his neck, taking in the scent of him, an odd thing for a human to do but it aroused him greatly.
She didn’t even notice when she stopped fighting him and started struggling to get his clothes off his body.
But Callum noticed.
He decided in that instant to allow her defiance. Hell, he’d even incite it if this was to be his reward.
They were naked and she was as she was that morning, all over him with her hands, mouth, and tongue, touching, tasting, licking, rubbing herself against him as if she couldn’t get enough fast enough. Callum couldn’t believe his good fortune that destiny chose a greedy little human in heat to be his queen.
She was fucking perfect.
But it was time he had his fill.
He rolled her to her back and used his hands, mouth, and tongue on her, all over her, and she was greedy for that too. Arching against him, her hands coaxing and demanding, her nails scraping or diving into his hair to hold him to her.
When Callum’s mouth was at her belly, Sonia spread her legs and Callum accepted her sweet invitation. He settled between them, ran his hands up the backs of her thighs, cocking them and then throwing her calves over his shoulders.
Finally, she was right there.
The scent of her was unbelievable. He’d wanted to taste her since he’d smelled it that first night when he’d rescued her from her kidnappers.
He lowered his mouth to her and she was just as sweet as her scent promised.
The minute his mouth touched her, she went completely still a moment before he heard the low sexy whimper escape the back of her throat. Then she jerked her hips up, clearly always greedy his Sonia, demanding more.
He smiled against her and gave it to her.
As he worked her with his mouth, her movements became more agitated and her whimpers came faster through her panting until he pulled away.
When he did, she cried desperately, “No!”
He moved over her and rolled them so he was on his back.
“You stopped,” she accused, squirming on top of him.
He grinned at her and lifted his head to bury his face in her neck.
He ran his tongue up its length to her ear and his body absorbed her shiver before he said there, “I’m not done eating you, baby doll. But you took all of me this morning. I’m curious to know what you can do with your mouth.”
He heard her breath catch as her face twisted to his and he saw, to his delight, she liked that idea.
“Do you know what I want?” he asked, she nodded and he murmured, “Then give it to me.”
She didn’t hesitate a moment. She moved, positioning herself over his head and his hands slid up her outer thighs, his fingers curling into her hips as she bent her body down the length of his.
The minute she wrapped her fingers around him, he lapped at her. When her tongue touched the tip of his hard cock, he pulled her hips down and gave her more. She learned swiftly that the more she pleased him, the more she was rewarded.
And she pleased him a good deal.
She was rocking her hips against his mouth, her fist around the base of his cock, her movements nearly frenzied, her moans vibrating against his shaft as her sweet little mouth took him deep and he knew she was ready.
He slid away from her and turned on her. He had her ass in his hands and her back to the headboard before she had the chance to wrap her arms and legs around him.
When she did, he pressed the tip of his cock to her wet tight entrance, but stopped.
Her head tipped back and her lips parted in anticipation.
But he didn’t give it to her, as much as he wanted it himself.
They’d played, he’d won, and now he wanted the spoils of victory.
“What do you want?” he demanded.
Her eyes opened halfway but she didn’t answer.
He placed his lips on hers. “Baby doll,” he murmured. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to fuck me,” she whispered, pressing her hips into his and he pulled back.
Her mouth formed a disappointed “O” and her eyes closed.
He grinned against her lips.
Yes, she was absolutely fucking perfect.
But he wasn’t quite done.
“Call me wolf,” he ordered and her eyes opened again, this time not halfway.
“Callum—”
He circled his hips and she bit her bottom lip before she strained to find him.
“Call me wolf,” he repeated gruffly, the feel of her, wet and open, waiting for him, was driving him mad.
“Callum—”
“Do it, little one.”
“Wolf,” she whispered.
“Say it all.”
She pressed her body closer, her face went into his neck, and under his ear she begged softly, “Please, my wolf, I need you to fuck me.”
Sonia calling him wolf, begging him to fuck her, seemed to shatter his soul.
It also shattered his control.
He gave her what she asked for, fast and rough, then faster and rougher, and the harder he took her, the higher she went until he knew it was overwhelming her.
Her neck bent sharply, her eyes sought his, and he saw the panic just as her body tightened all around him.
He lifted his hand to cradle the back of her head.
His control of his own orgasm was slipping but he assured her in a hoarse voice, “It’s all right, baby doll, I’ve got you.”
Her dazed eyes focused on him a scant second before she gave him her trust and let go.
Her head reared back, slamming his hand against the wall just as it cushioned her head from the blow. Her body bucked. Her sex convulsed, sucking him deeper inside her hot wetness. And, finally, he heard her release yelped in loud, sharp, almost feral cries.
The sound of her climax was his undoing. He surged into her one last time and joined her in a brilliant explosion with his own claiming animal roar.
When he came back from the beautiful place Sonia took him, the most beautiful of his life (and considering he was three hundred and eighty-three years old, that was fucking saying something), he felt her breath evening out against his neck.
She still held his body tight in her limbs, his cock still snug inside her, and she had pressed her face into his neck. All of this he thought was, as Sonia could very much be, sweet.
And the realization hit him suddenly like a crushing weight that he wanted her limbs around him, her breath to stir his skin, and their beautiful connection to last for eternity.
Which heralded the unwelcome knowledge he’d lived with for thirty-one years. Knowledge he’d worked time and again with Mac to come to terms with. Knowledge that, when he met Sonia as a little girl, felt their connection, and discovered she was his, he’d raged against. Knowledge that he’d buried deep until that moment.
It was the knowledge that she was a mortal human and he was an immortal werewolf and they didn’t have eternity.
Instead he’d enjoy his mate for decades, not millennia.
Then he’d watch her grow old.
Then he’d watch her die.
And destiny had chosen to make her perfect, which Callum thought was a fucking cruel tease.
His arms tightened around her and he dropped from his knees to his back, taking her with him, careful to keep their connection.
When he had her settled on top, she nuzzled closer. His fingers found his chain and trailed along it and he pulled in a breath, taking in the gorgeous scent of her hair, the beautiful scent of them mingled between her legs, and the scent of . . .
His body froze and his head at the same time as Sonia’s twisted to look at the man standing in the door.
The scent of fucking vampire.