With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(144)



“Now tell me you love me,” he demanded.

“But you said only two –”

“Sonia,” he warned, impatient to talk to Lucien.

She stared at him and he was so preoccupied he didn’t notice the life ebbing from her always lively eyes nor did he notice her flat voice when she said, as if by rote, “I love you, Callum.”

He touched his lips to her forehead, stood, putting her on her feet and he strode from the room.

Therefore he wasn’t there when Sonia stared at the door, her lips trembling, silent tears sliding down her cheeks.

And he wasn’t there when she snatched her rings from the nightstand and she dug until she found her stuffed wolf and tore it from under the covers.

And he wasn’t there when she walked by the fire Callum had stoked that morning and blindly threw the rings and the wolf into the fire.

But Sonia was so blinded by emotion that, luckily, her stuffed wolf bounced off the side and onto the floor to come to rest, unharmed, under the couch.

And her rings bounced too but fell into the fire, landing safely to glint in the firelight at its edge.

* * * * *

“Callum, I really need a moment to speak to you,” Regan pleaded, following her infuriated son down the stairs.

In response, not missing an enraged step, Callum asked, “Where’s Sonia?”

“Callum, hold still a second and –”

Callum did as his mother told him, stilling then swinging around to face her. “I asked you, where the f**k is my f**king queen?”

Regan took one look at him and stepped up and away from him.

Then she straightened her shoulders and stated, “Callum, something’s wrong. I know. I can see it. I felt it yesterday but I need to explain something to you. Something important. Something you must know right now.”

Callum’s hand clenched around the rings he’d found in the fire while he searched for his mate and his mind thrashed with the memories of his wife laughing, talking, joking with his people, all day. Cheering, drinking, eating, clapping, dancing, making them fall in love with her.

But she’d done all of this far away from him.

Far, far away.

She’d ridden silently in the truck beside him as he took her into town but almost the instant they arrived she melted into the crowd.

And they’d accepted her gladly. The day having the feel of two celebrations. One of victory, one at their luck that Callum’s queen was so f**king perfect.

He’d heard it time and again, his people telling him of the widespread talk of her notes to the kin of the fallen. The stories that had gone far and wide of her taking their women into her home and, together, waiting out the battle as she demonstrated strength of will, instilling hope in their females’ hearts. How brilliant they thought it was that she, a human, proudly displayed his chain around her h*ps as she did that day and every day. The chain flaunted boldly outside her cords, his people not knowing it was Callum’s f**king idea in the first f**king place.

And Sonia’s high spirits were evident every moment during the celebration. Clearly up for anything, his Sonia, drinking copious amounts of cider. Tasting every bit of food sold by the vendors. Laughing with abandon. Grabbing handfuls of huge, yellow and gold wolf head-shaped confetti. Throwing it in the air and giggling as it drifted all around her and those close to her, in her hair, their hair, floating to the pavement only for her to grab more and do it again as his wolves watched her worshipfully or joined in. Kneeling low to wrap her arms around pups and hold their wrists safely away as they twirled sparklers, all the while gleaming up at the pups’ parents as they stared down at her dotingly. Linking her arm with Leah’s, their blonde heads, the only blondes in the crowd, bent together as the talked low and giggled with each other. Not as if they’d known each other a day but as if they’d known each other a lifetime while the she-wolves smiled at their camaraderie but the wolves watched them with hungry eyes.

But the minute Callum would start to get near to share the day with his enthusiastic, fun-loving queen was the minute she’d move away. He kept getting caught in the revelry making it easy for her to escape.

And she was escaping. There was no doubt about it.

So much, when night had fallen, she’d eventually disappeared from town and when he searched for her, he couldn’t find her. No one had seen her, of the numerous people he asked, until one of his Guard told him another had taken her, for some unknown reason, to the castle.

But when he arrived at the castle, concerned at her disappearance but more, the meaning behind it, he found she was not there.

And thorough was his search. So he found the rings he’d given her had been tossed into the fire.

Now, his mother was there and he could hear more trucks arriving. He could sense a large number of wolves, probably smashed and looking for fun because the main celebrations were over as the fireworks had gone off as planned. But they’d gone off without their king being there to witness them or their queen for no one knew where the f**k she was.

Twisted with this were the thoughts of what Lucien told him about how Leah’s dreams would be events in which she participated, nearly real, but Lucien dreamed more, more events, more detail of their plight. He participated too, in his dreams. He participated in things Leah never f**king dreamed.

Like Callum dreamed last night of his betraying his queen with a wolf, the first of his kind to ever f**k around on his mate.

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