With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(179)

The door swung open and Orphenon followed by Calder ran into the room and straight to Sonia.

“The injection?” Callum bit out and Calder handed it to him as Orphenon got close, grabbed Sonia’s flailing wrist and then dropped it immediately.

“Jesus,” Orphenon whispered, glancing quickly at Callum before he went for Sonia’s wrist again and demanded to the room at large, “A tub, ice, immediately! Get someone to my car to get my bag!”

Callum turned his mate and moved to inject her.

“How many is that?” Orphenon asked, his tone dire and urgent and Callum stopped.

“Dose two,” Callum told him.

“Your grace, I don’t think –” Orphenon started.

“It’s the only thing that works,” Callum clipped.

“It’s poison, your grace,” Orphenon whispered, Sonia gasped then bucked then arched and shrieked so loud, so long and so horrifying, it was a wonder everyone’s ears didn’t immediately start bleeding.

Callum held her close but leaned into Orphenon. “It’s worked for decades.”

“I’m not sure it’s wise,” Orphenon replied but Sonia jerked mightily and shrieked yet again.

“If you don’t think it’s wise then what do we f**king do?” Callum snarled, setting the injection aside and again fighting her struggles in order to pull his mate close.

“We need to get her temperature down immediately,” Orphenon answered.

“Do you think?” Callum’s tone was snide.

“I can see you’re upset and I understand that, I do, but I know what’s in that injection, Callum, and two doses is absolutely not advisable.”

“She’s burning alive.”

“That’s why we need to get her temperature down.”

“Then how about we cease discussing it and do that?” Callum gritted.

“Cal, Cal, Cal, my wolf,” Sonia called suddenly, her voice strange, hideously weak at the same time desperate and Callum jerked his gaze to his wife, his blood now ice in his veins at the sound. “Cal, Cal, Cal,” she chanted feebly.

“Baby doll, I’m right here.”

“Cal, it’s happening,” she whispered, her hand moving to clutch his lapel again.

“We’re going to get your temperature down, honey,” he assured her.

“It’s happening,” she repeated, her hand in his lapel tightening, drawing him to her, pulling him close but she didn’t have to. He bent into her as frantic activity bustled in the room.

“We’re getting a tub of ice. It’s going to be all right,” he promised.

“You know I love you?” she whispered and Callum felt his heart squeeze because her tone was frail but it was also final.

“Yes, I do and I love you too, baby doll. Now, hang on.”

“With everything I am,” she stated, so softly, her voice fading with each word and Callum felt her body burn into his as her fingers started to loosen on his lapel.

No, this was not happening.

He pulled her closer, tighter. “Stay with me, Sonia. Stay with me, little one.”

Her eyes filled with tears and held his as she whispered, “With everything I was meant to be.”

This was not happening. It wasn’t happening. It couldn’t happen. She had to survive, at least until it began.

This was not f**king happening.

Then it happened.

His mate, his bride, his wife, his queen went limp in his arms. Her green eyes open and still on him, there was nothing behind them. No focus. No light.

They were vacant.

Dead.

Dead.

Just.

Like.

That.

He stared into her pretty face and whispered, “This is not happening.”

Sonia didn’t move, her hand had fallen away from his jacket, he felt no breath from her lips touch his face, the room around him was still, a dread feeling creeping through the space, slithering, cold, ugly, heinous.

“This is not f**king happening,” he whispered, cradling Sonia close, smelling her smell, feeling the burn of her body cooling.

He didn’t twitch as Orphenon moved in, placing his fingers to Sonia’s neck as Callum stared into her face.

Vacant.

Dead.

“Please, God,” he begged, “make this not be happening.”

Orphenon’s fingers moved away and he said quietly, his voice grave, “Your grace, I’m so sorry.”

It was happening.

Rage tearing through him, Callum surged up, holding his mate’s lifeless body tight to his massive chest, he threw his head back and thundered useless words, “This is not f**king happening!”

He felt a hand light on his arm and his mother’s soothing voice, “She’s gone, Callum, sweetheart. We knew this day would come. Please –”

Callum twisted, leaned in and barked in his mother’s face. “This can’t happen.”

She didn’t flinch.

She lifted a hand to the side of his face, hers was tortured, understanding of his pain etched in her features and she whispered, “I’m so sorry, my beloved boy.”

It was then, he felt it. His skin prickling. The change was coming and he knew he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t.

He didn’t even f**king want to.