With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(31)

Then she’d become naturally confused to be where she was, and with a stranger no less, after what had happened to her last night.

Then he’d freaked her out. She’d retreated into her shell. He’d foolishly lamented his fate but only to find she came out of that shell blazing and he had more fire and spirit than he knew what to do with.

His only excuse for tonight’s behavior was watching her endure the torture of her injection and he wasn’t even thinking about her need to take the injection in the first f**king place.

How she could do that every night of her life was a mystery.

How he’d endure giving her that pain, he had no clue.

All he knew was that he would find a way and she would never endure it alone again.

The thought that she had for decades tore at him.

He made her tea, poured himself a whisky and determined that he was going to rectify the situation as he walked back to the couch. She was lying on her side, pillow under her cheek, eyes on the fire, noticeably back in her shell.

Fuck, Callum thought.

He placed the drinks on the coffee table and bent to pull her up. He maneuvered himself behind her, his back up against the corner of the couch, one leg cocked against the couch’s back. Sonia’s back was resting against his chest and stomach, her h*ps tucked in his crotch, her bottom in the seat and he tangled his remaining leg with both of hers.

She held herself stiff. As she would.

“Grab the drinks, will you, honey?” he asked softly and without hesitation she leaned forward, got their drinks and handed him his whisky over her shoulder without looking at him.

Yes, totally f**ked it up.

He initiated damage control.

“I didn’t like watching you suffer that injection,” he admitted.

She hesitated only a moment before replying quietly, “Yes, I noticed that.”

Callum continued, “But, this morning, I did like it when you called me ‘wolf’.”

She remained silent but her body tensed further.

Callum carried on, “So much so, when you said it in anger, it pissed me off.”

She took a sip of her tea before saying, “I noticed that too.”

He slid his arm around her belly and gave her a squeeze.

He sipped his whisky.

Then he said, “You need to know what’s going on and you need to know who I am which will explain why I behave the way I do.”

More silence.

Callum sighed.

Then he spoke. “I’ve mentioned ‘my people’ and ‘my culture’. What I mean when I say that is, my people are different from your people. We’re a secret sect of society who has been living alongside humans since recorded history.”

As he spoke, her body grew even tenser and he sensed her accelerated breathing.

She thought he was a nut.

He leaned forward, taking her with him and set his glass on the coffee table. He took away her tea and did the same. Then he brought them both back and wrapped both arms around her, one at her belly, one at her chest, fingers curled around her shoulder where he stroked her.

“Rest your head on my chest,” he commanded and again without delay, she did as she was told.

She was giving in.

Immediately.

Callum felt his jaw get tight as his eyes rolled heavenward.

He decided to pull out the heavy artillery.

His arms grew tighter when he told her, “Your father was a friend to my people.”

He body went rock-solid before she turned in his arms and tipped her face up to look at him.

“What?” she whispered but he saw her face was filled with wonder.

Callum could do nothing but stare.

Fuck, she was pretty but looking like that…

Unbelievable.

He lifted a hand to trail the backs of his fingers against the soft skin of her cheek which she allowed, fortunately, while he answered, “Senator Arlington was a friend to our people. He was a liaison between the cultures. He was a good man. A respected man. And he was a friend of my father’s.”

“Really?” she breathed.

“Really, baby doll,” he replied gently.

Heavy artillery was a good call apparently as she didn’t pull away. Her body had relaxed into his and her face was still filled with wonder.

He shifted her thick hair away from her temple and tucked it behind her ear before he continued, “My father was king for many years. Five years ago, he was killed in battle.” His eyes caught hers as she gasped and he finished, “Now, I’m king.”

Her lips parted but she remained silent.

Callum went on, “The evening the future king is born, at midnight, the oracles speak. Just by speaking, they herald the future king but mostly they talk of his bride.”

“Let’s go back to your father,” she said quietly.

“This is an important part, little one,” he told her.

She ignored him and asked, “Were you close?”

He nodded.

“Very?” she enquired.

Callum continued to nod.

The wonder slid from her features as they grew soft with unconcealed compassion.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know how that feels.”

All right.

To pretty, fiery and spirited, he could add sweet.

Sonia Arlington could be incredibly sweet.