With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(170)
Callum felt his temper rise further. “Are you suggesting, little one, that I was partly at fault for what happened?”
“I’m not suggesting anything,” she retorted. “I’m saying that maybe then and now there’s another way to go about things and perhaps, before you do something that cannot be undone, you may want to reflect on both.”
Callum drew in a long breath to calm his anger before he replied firmly and with finality, “This is the wolves’ custom, Sonia.”
She fell silent and Callum drove, still angry and part of this had to do with the fact that Sonia riled him up prior to one of the few loathsome duties he had as king of the werewolves. By now, she should know better but apparently she did not.
Every moment of every day he was aware that his time with her was short and just as aware that she didn’t know it. He very much wanted to explain yet again that in times like these, he needed her support, not a confrontation. However, it was highly likely (he hoped) that in her short life, she wouldn’t need to endure another time like this so he decided to let it, and the inevitable argument it would cause, go.
He drove up the winding, ill-kept road, through the wood and turned right, driving through the thick trees. He heard another swift intake of breath when the trees suddenly cleared and there it was.
The Lodge, a huge, circular building with a large, paved car park around it and beyond it on either side, two four story parking structures. It was made of reddish, gold-brown Canis stone, had ten of his royal pennants flying from its crenelated roof and it looked like a human’s sporting arena, albeit small but, with the stone and crenellations, more imposing. The inside held stands, also like a human’s stadium, in a circle facing down to the pitch. Although small by human standards, it could hold ten thousand wolves.
That day, considering the vehicles parked around, he reckoned it would be half full, something else that grated on Callum’s frayed nerves.
This was expected, considering the hills were full to celebrate The Royal Mating and therefore he’d planned for it, his Guard being there to keep order as well as several detachments of soldiers.
It wasn’t that Callum expected anyone to disagree with his judgment. It was that wolves could be vengeful and, thus, bloodthirsty. They loved Sonia. They expected the verdict he was about to give, he had little doubt they would rejoice in it and, with wolves, that could easily get out of hand. Further, Sonia might find this at best, distasteful, at worst, repugnant.
Callum, on the other hand, did not rejoice in giving the order to bring about the end of lives. It was a weight on his soul that only Sonia had the ability to alleviate but, again, he held the bitter knowledge that his mate would not always be there to provide this succor to him.
With this heavy on his mind, he drove around the curving entrance that led to the doors closest to where the royal dais would be set inside as Sonia noted, “This place is amazing.”
“The Lodge, little one,” he muttered distractedly, putting the SUV in park and switching off the ignition, still muttering. “Games are played here. Official business is conducted here. As you know, our Mating will be here tomorrow. And, last, trials are held here.”
“Cal,” she called.
“Mm?” he murmured, his hand on the door handle, his mind on what was imminent.
“My handsome wolf, please look at me,” she requested softly, her endearment slid through him like silk, he twisted his body and his eyes moved to hers.
Then his gut clenched at the gentle expression on her face, an expression filled with love and understanding.
She leaned forward and placed her hand against the side of his head, running her thumb along his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and over his lower lip as her pretty green eyes watched.
All right, so maybe she did support him just, as ever, in her way.
Her gaze moved to his.
“I have not been a good queen this morning,” she admitted quietly.
“Baby doll –” Callum started, leaning toward her but she leaned further into him and pressed her thumb against his lips.
“Can I finish?” she asked and he held her eyes but nodded.
She pulled in a soft breath then whispered, “Tradition is a beautiful thing.”
Callum felt his jaw tighten but he said nothing.
She continued, “But, my wolf, compassion is often mistaken for weakness when the fact is, there is very little that is more powerful than the courage it takes to give it. The one thing I know that’s even more powerful is the courage it takes to forge your own path, make your own mark and in doing so, make change. Leaders who follow are never remembered because they aren’t actually leaders. Leaders who are trailblazers, who lead their people to better horizons, who do that with strength, wisdom and compassion are revered. You must do what you must do in there, as king to your people and as mate to me. But the reason you find it so difficult to show mercy is because it’s difficult to be merciful.” She leaned closer and her voice dropped softer, lower, sweeter as her eyes held his. “And the last thing I know, my handsome wolf is the strongest werewolf there is and this is not only because he is a great warrior. I saw him write letter after letter to the families of those who had fallen so I know it’s also because he’s compassionate. He can do anything and he can do it not just with his claws and his teeth.”
After that, she leaned in, swept her thumb away so she could touch her lips to his then she sat back in her seat, her eyes on him, her smile small and gentle, and waited for him to exit the truck and open her door for her.