With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(52)

Sonia grinned back at Caleb and Callum’s arms gave her a squeeze to capture her attention.

This worked, her face swung to his.

“Would you like that, little one?” he asked gently.

She regarded him a moment before she shrugged.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he told her and she nodded. Callum looked at Saint. “Are our quarters prepared?”

Sonia’s body jerked in his arms but Callum’s attention was on Saint who was answering. “Yes, actually. They have been since you arrived. Mona ordered it.”

“At least she did something,” Caleb muttered and Saint laughed.

“Callum,” Ryon called and Callum’s gaze swung to his cousin and saw his eyes were still on Callum’s bride. “Since this is going to go down here, and you’ll likely be here awhile, why don’t you stay at Sonia’s?”

At Ryon’s words, Sonia instantly relaxed in Callum’s arms and he caught her throwing Ryon another very grateful smile.

“Fuck, Ryon, what are you on about? The king always stays at the mansion,” Calder put in.

“Yes, and a female of our kind would know and be prepared for that,” Ryon replied patiently. “A human, being initiated to our culture which is probably a bit overwhelming, Calder, might like the comforts of home while she gets oriented.”

Sonia pressed together her lips and sighed, clearly agreeing with his cousin.

Callum would never have considered this. Then again Callum had very little experience with female humans except, of course, f**king them.

“Would you like to go home, Sonia?” he asked, her head tipped back instantly and she nodded, this time happily, with her eyes bright on him, to which he smiled and murmured, “Then we’ll take you home.”

Which was somewhere they were going now.

It was high time for her injection and, after their play this morning, he was impatient to have her again.

Further, the idea of having her in her sweet, welcoming bedroom lit by Christmas lights was an idea he liked greatly. He just hoped the cleaners he’d commanded to be sent to her house had successfully scoured away all traces of the bloody mess he’d made of her two attackers as he’d ordered them to do.

He stood, taking Sonia with him and setting her on her feet. “Calder, you’re off tonight,” he told his brother and Calder nodded. He then looked at Saint. “We’ll meet tomorrow to discuss the turnover.” Saint lifted his chin and Callum then looked at Ryon and Caleb. “You know what to do.” They both nonverbally indicated they understood his order.

Then he took Sonia’s hand and led her from the room.

His SUV was at the bottom of the steps where he’d left it and he helped Sonia into her seat before taking his own, starting the truck and pointing them toward her farmhouse.

He’d driven several miles before the silence in the cab caught his attention and it finally occurred to him that Sonia had another full, turbulent, likely mystifying day.

“You okay?” he asked.

She was silent.

“Baby doll?” he prompted, not taking his eyes from the road.

She remained silent.

He glanced at her to see her arms were crossed on her chest, the bag filled with her medication in her lap, and she was glaring through the windscreen.

“Sonia?”

“Oh, am I allowed to speak now?” she queried sarcastically.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she snapped. “Just take me home.”

Fucking hell. She was pissed about something.

“Sonia, tell me what’s bothering you,” he ordered gently.

“Nothing. I’m perfectly fine and I’ll be more fine when I’m finally home.”

Callum decided that was probably not true because it appeared they would be arguing when they arrived at her home. He wasn’t going to engage in one in the truck. Further, he had to take that time to control his temper that she obviously didn’t realize today, regardless of how delightfully it started, the rest had been unpleasant for him to say the least. Furthermore, the coming days, or weeks and (although he hoped to God not) possibly months would be busy and taxing.

Therefore she’d failed in her responsibility to provide him what he’d thought he’d explained to her during their second day at the cabin was her duty to provide. An outlet. A release. Be that in the form of a casual conversation in an SUV about his day, holding her cuddled on her sweet bed in her sweet room and talking with her about his concerns about his people or f**king her so hard that when she came she cried out his name.

The latter of which was how he definitely decided he’d like to process his day.

And that was exactly how he was going to do it.

He turned into the short drive at the side of her house, parking behind the door of her garage and he shut off the engine.

She didn’t wait for him to help her from the SUV (another issue he had with her that he decided, astutely, to bring up later). She dropped down from the truck and stormed up to her dark house.

Then she stood at her front door, arms crossed, her bag with her meds dangling from her fingers, as he took his time (to calm his temper further, an effort which failed) sauntering to her house.

“I don’t have the key,” she told him when he arrived at her side using a voice that made this clear it was an accusation.