With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(30)

“You got it right,” he ground out.

“Oh, you’re right I got it right,” she bit out then yelled. “You are a big, bossy jerk!”

His eyes narrowed and he clipped, “I asked, is that understood?”

“I speak English, Callum, it’s understood,” she retorted. “I also heard you say I could use that word when I wanted you near me, when I wanted you to hold me and when I wanted you to f**k me so don’t hold your breath because you’ll never hear me call you ‘wolf’ again!”

She was panting when she was finished, her chest rising and falling with her breaths.

His voice dipped lower just as his face dipped to hers when he warned, “I’ve a mind to test that threat.”

Her breathing escalated, as did her pulse, but she still invited, “Have at it. Let’s see if you can make today a grand slam in demonstrating all the ways to make your supposed mate hate you!”

He scowled at her.

She glared at him.

And she felt no triumph whatsoever when he broke the staring contest, did a push up, knifed away from her getting to his feet but leaned low over her. “I’m getting you tea. You move from that couch, Sonia, this farce ends now.”

Her breath stopped.

There it was.

“What farce?” she whispered.

He stayed leaned over her but threw out an arm and answered, “This one. Me giving you this ludicrous courtship. Waring called you queen and bowed to you out of deference to me and who you’ll become. You defy me again, I’ll take you to that bed and make you my queen right… f*cking… now.”

“Wh… what?” Sonia stammered in confusion (and, a great deal of fear) as she lifted up on an elbow.

“My people don’t need ceremonies and rituals even though we have them. But if I f**k you and claim you, the deed is done. You’re bound to me. That’s all there is for my culture that makes one bit of difference. I f**k you, you’re officially my queen.”

“You’re… you’re… courting me?” she whispered.

“Did you hear a word I said this morning?”

She thought she heard all of them.

With a swift movement, he straightened and tore his fingers through his hair, leaving his hand at his neck before looking up to the ceiling and asking, “Who would f**king believe I’d rather be on a battlefield?”

Sonia wouldn’t believe it.

At that moment, Sonia didn’t believe anything.

Except the heartbreaking fact that he was crazy as a loon.

His head tipped down and he scowled at her. “Now stay there, don’t move and I’ll bring you your goddamned tea.”

Then he stalked away and she did what she was told.

She had no earthly idea what was going on and she was getting more confused by the minute.

What she did know, considering the consequences, was that she wasn’t going to move from the couch.

Also, she was never going to call him “wolf” ever again.

Lastly, because of that, she would always hate him, always.

And she would hate him because he forever took her beloved, handsome wolf away.

* * * * *

Callum f**ked up.

He knew it and he could kick himself for it.

He’d lost his patience and his formidable temper and further, and most regrettably, forgotten that Sonia had no idea what was going on.

He’d told her some of it but she couldn’t possibly understand his mind was on a plot hatched to abduct her, debase her and maybe even murder her. A plot which meant his people were at war, people he was responsible for and a war he had to win.

He’d had her a day.

Only a day.

For over well over three hundred years, he knew he’d find his mate and be bound to her. He’d always hoped she wouldn’t be his queen which would mean his father’s death but, like every wolf, he anticipated with great relish finding his mate.

Now he had her not even twenty-four hours and he’d f**ked it up with her.

Ryon had warned him, even so far as pleaded with him, that he needed to be gentle and tolerant with Sonia.

It wasn’t simply that Callum didn’t have time for this ridiculousness (which he didn’t). Callum didn’t date. He didn’t court. He seized. Even if his mate wasn’t under threat and his people weren’t at war, he had little patience for courting and furthermore didn’t like it.

And, obviously, he wasn’t very good at it.

He was now king but he’d always been a prince. No one questioned him. Only a scarce few, all blood and all in his inner circle, talked back. People followed his orders and understood his position and he expected this, was entitled to it.

But Sonia didn’t know that.

Any of it.

In her world, men asked women on dates. They went to dinners, movies, got to know each other through conversations.

With female humans, if he wanted them, Callum might buy them a drink then he’d find an opportunity to kiss them and that was all he had to do, always all he had to do. Then he’d take them to bed.

With female wolves, he never bothered with the drink.

And he’d been wrong about her.

She was fiery and spirited and whatever led her to lead her colorless life was lost here in this cabin.

Sonia, his mate, the woman fate had bound him to woke in his bed this morning.