Her enticement was nearly too much.
But the time had come. He had to tell her.
So, he said, “Baby doll –”
But she cut him off again, cut him off with the words that always shattered his control at the same time her sex clenched around his shaft, making her invitation a demand he couldn’t ignore.
“Fuck me, wolf.”
With another growl, Callum did as she asked, in three different positions, as hard and rough as both of them liked it.
It was so hard and rough and exhausting, by the time he forced her off her knees to her belly and settled between her widespread legs, his forearms tucked into her sides and his lips at her ear to whisper his secret, Sonia was fast asleep.
* * * * *
Two days later, Callum had still not found the appropriate time to explain things to Sonia.
The first day it was Sonia again who took his mind off his determination to share his secret.
After breakfast, as usual she wandered into his study. However this time she did it with a funny look on her face that Callum couldn’t quite read.
After their extensive play the night before, he’d left her arms that morning without waking her and started his day.
This was unusual. Since coming to the castle and giving her time to acclimatize, he’d usually wait for her to wake and he’d either take care of her or the both of them before he started his day.
However, he remembered her complaints of aching when he’d taken her “vigorously” when he brought her home and, as the night before had been nearly as vigorous, he’d decided she needed her rest.
It was also unusual when she walked to him and he turned his seat toward her to offer his lap that she didn’t immediately sit.
Instead she stopped, tilted her head to the side and stared at him, seemingly mesmerized.
“What is it?” he asked but her body gave a soft jerk at his words as if he’d woken her from a daydream.
She bit her lip, looking indecisive then she sank to her knees before him.
It was Callum’s turn to stare.
She put her hands to his knees and then she put pressure there to pull them apart.
Then, Callum watched, his cock responding instantly, as her pretty head dropped and she nuzzled his crotch with her face.
“Fucking hell,” he breathed and she lifted up, pressed her front to his groin and placed her hands on his chest.
“You didn’t play with me this morning,” she accused quietly, her expression no longer unreadable but greedy.
Always in heat, his Sonia.
Clearly, the night before hadn’t been that vigorous.
Callum marked that knowledge in his mind and his fingers slid into her hair at the side to cup her head.
“No,” was all he had the capacity to say.
Her hand dropped to his crotch to palm it softly and she whispered, “Can I play with you?”
“Fuck yes,” he gritted through his teeth and she smiled.
Then she dropped her head and he watched as she pulled his sweater up, exposing his stomach, and put her mouth there, then it slid down while she undid his pants and freed him.
Without leading into it, she gripped his rock-hard shaft with her hand and took him in her mouth, stroking and sucking simultaneously. Often, she’d lick while she stroked, her eyes would rise to catch his as she did so and each time hers were hungrier, like she couldn’t get enough of him.
For his part, Callum didn’t take his eyes away from her for a second.
And what he saw was fucking beautiful.
It wasn’t much later when he’d had enough and roughly maneuvered her body so it was bent over his desk, pulled her jeans and underwear down her thighs, that he found she was so aroused by sucking him off that the minute he buried himself in her abundantly wet silkiness, she slammed back to receive him and cried out her instant release.
Callum didn’t long follow.
Allowing them both time to recover, Callum eventually righted their clothes. But it was Sonia that curled herself fully in his lap, pulling her legs up and bent to rest them against his front, her forehead tucked in his neck, her arm around him.
“Is that what you wanted me to do to you in your chair?” she asked softly.
It was.
But it was also far better because she did it of her own accord rather than because he told her to.
“Yes.”
“Mm,” she replied and snuggled closer.
Callum held his queen for a while then he resumed work.
Sonia didn’t move, just stayed cuddled close in his lap.
As he worked with his wife held close, Callum decided that day wasn’t the day to tell her his secret.
* * * * *
The next day, Callum didn’t have time to tell her because Caleb returned.
Regan had taken Sonia away for a more in-depth perusal of town, something which it was obvious Sonia wanted to do by the look of excitement on her face when Regan suggested it. So Callum allowed it.
While she was gone, he was holed up in his study with Caleb and Ryon discussing the aftermath of the rebellion, the cleanup of the Western Territories, the sweep across the various regions to locate and neutralize all remaining rebels that Calder was leading and he’d lost track of time.
Regan had called explaining that she and Sonia were having dinner with Maraleena and Drogan in town and by the time Callum and his brethren emerged from his study it was late. It wasn’t only late, it was time for bed and Sonia hadn’t had her injection.
He went in search of her and found her alone in the knitting room. The fire obviously Regan had laid and started was burning for Sonia had no clue how to start a fire. This was something Callum learned days earlier when he walked into their bedroom in the middle of her adorably frustrated attempts and she made him promise he’d teach her to do it. He had lied (not exactly a betrayal in his mind) and promised he would when he had no intention of doing it because if she didn’t ever learn, she’d have to find him to do it for her and he liked that idea.
She was standing at the window but she wasn’t looking out.
Her head was bent and she was watching the fingers of one hand at the other twisting the wedding bands he’d given her around and around.
Something struck him then and he stopped in the door, leaning a shoulder against the jamb, crossing his arms on his chest and he studied her.
During their fight she had said that when she gave him his ring, she didn’t know if it meant anything to her.
He’d not called her on that. He was satisfied with the outcome of their altercation. There was no reason to dredge it up, process every word she said in anger when, from her behavior since then, she’d given every indication that she wasn’t only settling into her life with him splendidly but enjoying it thoroughly.
But now, watching her, her face thoughtful and far away, twisting those bands which had meant nothing to him when he’d given them to her but an hour later when he’d heard her call him “husband”, they meant everything, he felt a definite and acute unease. An unease akin to that unpleasant feeling that felt like fear.
Without looking up, she said softly, “I know you’re there.”
“I know you know,” he replied.
She finally looked at him and her fingers stilled in their turning but they didn’t release the rings. “So why are you standing all the way over there?”
“I’m wondering what’s on your mind,” he told her truthfully.
She dropped her hand but wrapped her arms around her belly and explained, “What’s on my mind is, I’m wondering why my husband stopped in the doorway when he never stops in a doorway when I’m in a room. He always comes to me. So, what’s on my mind is, I’m wondering what’s on your mind.”
She was probably telling the truth.
Just not all of it.
He walked to her and when he arrived she slid her arms around his middle and leaned her body into his, tilting her head far back
to look up at him.
It struck him then that she did this a great deal recently. Effortlessly putting her arms around him, leaning her weight into him. Before, her hugs and moments of affection were rare and when they came seemed, compared to the recent ones, uncomfortable.
Now they were relaxed and natural and Callum preferred them greatly.
He returned the favor, wrapping her in his arms, pulling her deep in his body and dipping his chin to look down at her.
“All right, Sonia, now what’s really on your mind?” he asked.
“I told you,” she fibbed.
“You weren’t standing at the window twisting my rings for the fuck of it,” he informed her, his voice meticulously even and calm, that unease he felt was still acute.
She scanned his face. Then she sighed. It wasn’t the fluttering sigh that he loved. It was a frustrated sigh.
He knew this by the sound but he also knew it by the irate flash in her green eyes.
“You’re too perceptive,” she muttered, her voice just as irate then she informed him of the obvious, “It’s annoying.”
He preferred his topic of conversation so he gave her a gentle squeeze and said warningly, “Sonia…”
“Oh all right,” she breathed out, her frustration still clear and then suddenly her eyes left his and she looked at his shoulder a moment before they came back. “Okay, Callum, what I was thinking was…” She hesitated a moment before stating, “And you can say no because, well, I’m sensing you’re not big on human stuff and, well, this is definitely human. Obviously I wouldn’t dream of asking you to go whole hog or anything because considering, even for my Christmas party, you wore cords and a nice sweater…” She paused and went off tangent, “Though, the boots you wore were really nice that night. I liked them. You should wear –”
He couldn’t help it. He started chuckling and gave her another squeeze, cutting her off by saying, “Honey, your point?”
Her eyes got big a moment, she pulled in breath and whispered, “Right.” Then she went on swiftly, “What I was saying was, you don’t have to do the big thing for me, you know, even though, outside your sixteenth birthday, it’s the most important day in a girl’s life. But I wouldn’t ask you to wear the tuxedo and get a photographer and all that formal stuff but can I…” She looked at him, her eyes filled with discomfited yearning. “Would you mind if…?” She hesitated yet again and then forced out the words, “I know it isn’t the done thing but, at our Mating, can I at least wear a pretty, white dress?”
He stared at her a second, thrown, because he had no fucking clue what she was on about. At Matings wolves would dress up but dressing up for wolves was just wearing nicer but still casual clothes.
Then, unusually slowly, it hit him. Her twisting her wedding rings, talking of tuxedos and formalities and the most important day of a girl’s life.
Fuck, she was talking about a human wedding.
Which, being his mate, she’d never get.
But, being his human wife, she would want.
And she wanted it and her wanting it meant she wanted him.
That unease sifted away leaving Callum feeling only the soft warmth of her body pressed to his and her arms around him.
“Baby doll –” he started.
“You can say no,” she blurted. “It’s probably a stupid idea. Your people will think…” Her eyes got big again and she said, “Oh no, would they be offended?”
One of his hands traveled up her back and tangled in her hair as his face got closer to hers. “No, they wouldn’t be offended. Wear whatever you want.”
He saw excitement light in her eyes for a second before it extinguished. “Will I look stupid?”
Callum grinned, pulling her tighter to him. “Impossible.”
“I don’t want them to think I’m holding on… I mean, I don’t want them to think I don’t take my responsibility –”
He cut her off. “They’ll think you’re proud of who you are and proud of who you’re bound to, both of which my people will find honorable.”
The excitement came back in a flash.
“Really?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he answered.
“Seriously?” she pressed both verbally and by pushing closer to his frame.
Callum bit back laughter at her adorable, earnest look but he didn’t manage it entirely and still said through chuckling, “Yes, little one.”
She gazed at him as if looking for evidence of dishonesty.
Then her weight sagged into him, she put her cheek to his chest and she gave him a squeeze. “Good.”
He kissed the top of her head, enjoying the far different feeling he had now rather than the one he had when he first stood in the door to this room.
It was more than her embrace. It was more than the knowledge that she yearned to be tied to him through his rings, bearing his father’s name, adhering to the traditions of her people.
It was enjoying giving her something she very much desired.
Which meant what he had to do next hurt like a bitch.
“It’s past time for your injection.”
He felt her body tighten in his arms before she forced it to relax and he was glad he couldn’t see her eyes.
“I know,” she replied.
“Let’s go, baby doll.”
She nodded, her cheek sliding against his chest. She pulled away, he took her hand and guided her to their bathroom.
* * * * *
Callum shifted in his seat behind his desk and lifted his hand to his forehead pressing away the tension that formed there after the reminder of the injection.
Last week, he’d taken her to Aberdeen to visit the “specialist” who simply decreed that what Dr. Mortenson said about tolerance for the drug and life changes were to blame for her “turn”. He explained (three times) that there were no other treatments. He took more blood which, again, came back normal. And he suggested they titrate off the morning dose, injecting half for a few days then stopping altogether.
“Let’s hope that works,” he said on a distracted doctorly smile while simultaneously writing notes.
Callum had wanted to break his jaw for it not working meant unendurable pain for his mate which was what, through gritted teeth, he’d informed the doctor after he’d tersely called the man’s attention back to his patient and her husband.
“You know what to do now. Just give her another dose if she becomes symptomatic and go back to twice daily injections,” the doctor had replied calmly in the face of Callum’s controlled fury.
It was then Sonia had squeezed his hand and Callum made the decision not to throw the doctor out the window which was the decision he’d made the instant before she’d squeezed his hand.
Luckily, the titrating had worked and Sonia hadn’t become symptomatic.
Then again, if it was stress and life changes that had affected the efficacy of the drug, she was settling in and hopefully they wouldn’t have another “turn”.
Callum heard Ryon approaching and his mind moved directly to what filled it any time it wasn’t filled with Sonia’s smile, her affection, her laughter, her kindness, her humor, her sweet little body and how it responded to him, her deepening connection to him and his family and her fucking injection.
Where his mind moved also wasn’t to his duty as king.
It went to the fact that every day he didn’t tell her his secret, their life was becoming a lie.
Ryon came in on a smile and closed the door.
Since discovering Sonia had had her abilities her entire life, long enough for her father to explain she should hide them, they no longer held suspicions against the vampires.
However, they were also all aware that Sonia’s abilities rivaled theirs and clearly Ryon closing the heavy door meant there was something he wanted muted should Sonia be in hearing distance.
He approached Callum’s desk and sat opposite, declaring, “All is in place for tomorrow.”
Callum’s mouth got tight.
Ryon still felt Sonia needed time with the wolves and was against Callum telling her. They’d had words about it. Callum disagreed and decided he’d bloody well tell her when the right time arose.
Unfortunately that hadn’t happened and tomorrow hundreds of wolves would be celebrating in the streets.
Shit happened. Especially with wolves.
Therefore, like Drogan, Maraleena and Callista, his Royal Guard had been warned by Ryon that Sonia was to be protected from witnessing any transformation or talk of werewolves and tomorrow everywhere she went she would be with him, his family or under escort of his Guard.
“I don’t like this,” Callum told his cousin. “I’ll find time to tell her tonight.”
“You should wait until after tomorrow,” Ryon differed. “She’ll enjoy tomorrow. She’ll see the true wolf nature. You need to give her more time.”
Callum watched his cousin, again questioning his motives when it came to Callum’s mate.
“What makes you think she needs more time?” Callum asked.
Ryon grinned. “Call it instinct.”
Callum didn’t find anything amusing.
“Have you not noticed the change in her?” he queried.
Ryon’s expression turned serious and he shared, “Yes, Cal, I have and I don’t fucking trust it.”
Callum felt his blood run cold. “And why the fuck not?”
Ryon shook his head and his eyes went vague as did his tone when he said, “I can’t put my finger on it but I feel she’s holding back.”
It was then Callum’s hands clenched into fists.
First, if Sonia was holding anything back then the true Sonia would be beyond perfection which was impossible.
Second, because his cousin was still clearly keeping a close eye on his mate and he didn’t like it.
And last, because it felt like Ryon was trying to make Callum doubt his wife.
“I think,” Callum said calmly and evenly, a tone that Ryon knew and it caught his immediate attention therefore his distracted gaze cleared and focused on Callum, “that perhaps you should stop worrying about my mate so fucking much.”
“Cal –”
Callum leaned forward and said deceptively softly, “She’s my mate, Ry. Mine.”