With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(49)

“Always was,” Ryon returned.

“Mac f**ked up, installing her as Governor of this Territory,” Callum noted with frustration, handing the file back to Caleb.

Mac had left him with a rebellion which, in a year with studied brutality, he’d quashed, forcing their signature on a treaty they vowed never to sign and, four short years later, they broke.

Other than that, and the occasional insurrection which was normal amongst intense, temperamental and often quarrelling wolves, Mac’s realm was peaceful and ordered.

There was no mess.

Except Mona.

“He thought it was a diplomatic move,” Ryon replied, his eyes sliding to Sonia. “Titium was displeased with what went on.” Ryon looked back at Callum. “And he’d make a formidable enemy.”

Callum knew this.

During their brief fling ages ago, something which Callum engaged in regularly, a fact he thought Mona understood as every she-wolf did, she’d become infatuated with him. Because of her obsession, scraping her off had been unpleasant and eventually diplomatically sensitive.

Titium, Governor of Europe and a highly respected warrior, had spoiled his daughter. What she wanted, Titium gave her. Unfortunately, Mona was ambitious as well as obsessive. In order for her to leave his son alone, Mac had installed her as Governor of the then sparsely populated Western Territories of America.

They’d all been surprised when she’d been passably skilled at handling her province over the years, even as it was emerged and populated.

They’d also all been surprised when the years passed and she never found her lifemate, something which his father knew would turn her attention away from Callum.

However, apparently, since Mac’s death, she’d lost focus on her responsibilities.

This, too, Callum understood and it irritated him.

Callum was now king and the spoiled, ambitious Mona would want his attention even more than before. And she’d want it so desperately, it wouldn’t matter what form that attention would take.

She’d want it enough to f**k up and draw him to her territories. Something which, unless there was an insurrection, Callum, and Mac before him, rarely had to do as his other Governors ruled their provinces efficiently. In fact, it was something the Governors took pains in not doing because Callum’s attention, unless it was for an official ceremony or a social visit, wasn’t something they’d seek.

It was likely the she-wolf probably didn’t even know she was doing it.

Callum took Sonia’s hand and moved toward the door, muttering, “Let’s do this.”

“Hang on,” Ryon called and Callum stopped, pulling Sonia to his side.

“Have you briefed her on protocol?” Ryon asked, getting close.

“Sorry?” Callum replied, his thoughts anywhere but on protocol which was something, as king, he didn’t have to concern himself with. Only those around him did.

Ryon gave him an aggravated scowl but turned gentled eyes to Sonia.

“Sonia, you’re about to walk into a Throne Room in the official capacity as our Queen,” he explained softly. “Everyone in that room will bow to you and Callum. If you were alone, you’d walk to the throne, seat yourself and tell them to rise. As you’re with Callum, you don’t say anything. Don’t speak at all until Callum tells you that you can. He’ll lead you to the throne and give the order. In a minute, as this happens, people will talk but you won’t. Your duty is to observe in silence, don’t say a word. But pay attention, love, to everything that’s going on. You’ll understand why later. Okay?”

Callum found he was annoyed with himself that he hadn’t thought to instruct her on the way down the mountain.

He found himself further annoyed that Sonia was gazing up at Ryon with open gratitude.

She nodded to Ryon. Callum gave her hand a tug and, without looking at her, he led a silent Sonia through the mansion and up the wide staircase to The Throne Room.

The doors were opened as they approached and he heard Sonia take in a surprised breath before he guided her through.

The room was filled with his warriors and the mansion’s detail. Every one of them, including Mona, who was standing at the foot of the dais, dropped into the deep, heads lowered, ceremonial bow.

He strode through the room, hand in hand with Sonia whose step had faltered. Looking down at her, he saw her staring in fearful awe at the fifty large wolves who were bowed low.

He lifted her hand and tucked it under his arm, drawing her closer to him in an effort to offer her comfort.

She looked up at him, her eyes still startled, and he nodded down at her but didn’t wait for her response and led her up the stairs to the throne sitting there.

Without delay, as his father had done before him and every king, prince, duke, governor or noble in history did with their mate, he sat on the throne and pulled her into his lap.

Instantly, she made a surprised noise and tried to jerk away.

His arms tightened around her, he gave her a warning shake and her alarmed gaze flashed to his. Whatever she saw there made her stare then her eyes went blank and her body settled into his.

“Rise,” he commanded, the assemblage took their feet and all eyes turned to the throne.

He knew what they saw.

If he’d not claimed her, she’d be standing at the right side of his throne.

But, claimed and bound, now their queen, she was in his lap.