With Everything I Am (64 page)

Callum looked back to Gregor then to his mother and asked, “Perhaps one of you would like to tell me why
I
lived my life free of the burden of this knowledge?”

Regan stood and placed her hand beseechingly on the desk. “What would it have gained? You already knew she was human and struggled with that. To know her human existence on this earth was shorter still…”

Regan trailed off as her eyes slid away and she caught her lip between her teeth.

Callum stared at his mother, unwilling to process the emotions that were smoldering inside him.

Then he looked to Gregor.
“And Yuri?”

“Let’s just say that Mac and I disagreed as to when you should meet your mate,” Gregor responded vaguely.

“Why don’t you fully explain
that?
” Callum shot back.

Gregor exchanged a glance with Regan as she sat back down.

Then he looked back at Callum. “Mac knew you. He knew you’d want to have control of the meeting, the courtship, the claiming. He knew you’d go after her when
you
were ready.”

When he stopped speaking, Callum prompted curtly, “And?”

“You were taking too long,” Gregor immediately replied.

“I wouldn’t have taken so fucking long if I knew she was
dying,
” Callum bit out and it took him everything he had not to roar the words. “
Which brings us back to the fact that you,” his eyes included his mother in his words, “knew this fact and you didn’t share it.
”

“It’s forbidden for you to see The Prophesies,” Regan stated quietly.

“Lucien has seen them,” Callum returned.

“He did, indeed.” Gregor put in steadily. “But he wasn’t able to see all of them, however, only the parts we allowed him to see.”

“Maybe someone can explain to me again
why
the major players in these Prophesies can’t
fucking
read them?” Callum commanded through suggestion then finished with eyes narrowed on Gregor, “Or
all
of them.”

“You’ve asked that question before, Callum –” Regan began.

“And I never liked the goddamned answer,” Callum cut her off.

“Do you think
we
like this?” Regan retorted hotly. “Do you think it’s been easy for
me
to keep this from
my son?
”

Before Callum could reply, Gregor spoke.

“I understand what you’re feeling, Callum,” Gregor said quietly. “And trust
me,
it doesn’t stop the pain even knowing for all these years.”

Regan shot Gregor a look but Callum missed it because he sat and swiped his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

Then he looked at Gregor and changed the subject. “So you and Yuri decided to speed things up by putting Sonia in danger?”

“She was never in any danger. Why do you think we arranged for the information to be leaked to Saint that the rebels were amassing?” Gregor replied smoothly.

Callum leaned forward and clipped, “They broke into her house in the middle of the night, put their hands on her and terrified her.”

“Yes, but she was unhurt,” Gregor remained calm.

“She was thrown
across the room,
” Callum hissed. “Hit her head and went unconscious. That is
not
unhurt.”

Gregor held Callum’s furious stare and rejoined, “We did what we had to do.” When Callum opened his mouth to speak, Gregor went on quickly, “And, even as angry as you are right now, you can’t have any issues with the results.”

Callum sat back.

The cold-blooded bastard was right.

Callum had planned to meet Sonia at her Christmas party, weeks after he actually met her, and give her a human courtship which would have lasted months.

Now, she was in his bed and his home. She was wearing his claiming chain and wedding rings. She was striding into his study every morning after breakfast with a smile aimed at him and curling in his lap, telling him stories while laughing.

And he was in her heart.

With nothing to be angry at, Callum was left only with that constriction in his chest that was making it difficult to breathe.

Gregor read Callum’s altered mood. “I’d appreciate it if you’d continue to keep this knowledge from her. Protect her from it. Show her a good human life for as long as she has it and,” he paused when Callum’s eyes focused on his, “call Ryon and tell him not to harm my son.”

Callum stared at the vampire for a second before he nodded.

Then he took in a deep breath which didn’t seem to make it to his lungs before he ordered, “Leave me.”

Gregor immediately prepared to leave but Regan again stood, leaned toward him and put her hand on his desk.

“Callum –” she started but when her son’s gaze met hers, she stopped speaking and her pale face grew pained.

He knew what she saw and he knew it was bleak.

“Please, Regan, leave,” he asked quietly.

His mother’s face softened, she nodded and silently she and Gregor left, closing the door behind them.

Callum turned his chair and aimed his unseeing gaze out the windows.

He needed to run,
needed
it.

But he’d do it later when she was sleeping. He wasn’t missing another fucking second of her life.

He stood and rounded his desk, his thoughts not on the variety of things he had to do that day. They were on finding his queen.

But he stopped suddenly and stared at a heavy glass paperweight Sonia had purchased in town and brought in his study to use to hold papers down on his desk.

He picked it up and studied it, never really having seen it before.

The glass was clear with tawny swirls in its
depths,
the feel of it was cool and heavy in his hand.

It was actually quite extraordinary.

In a flash, he turned and hurled it across the room and, with the force of his wolf’s throw, it turned to dust the minute it struck the stone wall.

He stared at the debris thinking that didn’t make his chest any less tight either.

Then he went in search of his
wife.

* * * * *

That night it was Sonia’s idea to go out with him while he ran.

And, to be with her, Callum agreed.

As a human, she couldn’t run but even though it was night, as she always did when they were in the wood, she seemed at peace with her surroundings and the creatures in it were at peace with her there.

She wandered contentedly while he ran, coming back to circle her.
To catch her eyes on him in tender awe.
To move by her side for long minutes while she walked through the snow, her hand often coming to the fur on his head or his body and sliding through it lovingly.

Then he’d roam again and come back to her. And while roaming, he decided they’d do this every time he needed to run.

Eventually, he guided her home and, once she opened the backdoor and stepped inside, he crouched low and leaped, changed to man by the time his feet hit the floor.

When he straightened and turned to her, she was gazing up at him with shining eyes. She’d seen him change to wolf now three times.
The first being when she was injured, the second before they’d gone out and the last just now.

Still gazing up at him, she breathed in wonder, “That is
so cool
.”

Callum smiled at the same time he pulled her in his arms.

Then he kissed her.

Then he lifted her and walked naked through the house, carrying her to their room, where he placed her in bed and he took her.

He wanted to go slow, take some of the little time he had with her to memorize her skin, her smell, her touch, the taste of her,
the
sounds she made. But Sonia was in the mood to play rough. The more Callum tried to be tender, the more demanding and hungry Sonia became.

So he gave her what she wanted.

After, Sonia lay with her head on his shoulder, her fingers sifting lazily through the hair on his chest.

He loved it when she did that.

“You okay, little one?” he asked.

He’d taken her hard and he wanted to make certain he hadn’t hurt her. His voice was still gruff from his orgasm but also the memory of their time outside and the agonizing memories of his morning that were somehow, with Sonia close, less agonizing.

“Mm,” she murmured contentedly, her fingers tensing to drag her nails along his chest and her legs shifted against his, tangling with them, her body pressing closer, entwining with his.

Callum smiled.

She was okay.

She did this now, entwining her body with his, getting closer. She did it all the time and Callum loved it when she did even though it was exquisite torture for, underlying it, he always knew he’d not share nearly enough of these moments with her.

“Cal,” she called, her voice sounding like she sensed the turn of his thoughts.

“Yes, baby doll?”

Her hand flattened against his chest as if his skin could absorb it.

Or she could absorb something integral from his skin, something she needed, something she couldn’t exist without.

And something hit him about this gesture, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but Sonia spoke before he could call it to mind.

Then she whispered, “You know I love you, right?”
 

He closed his eyes at her words, remembering the dream.

They were living part of his dream.

He and Sonia said that now, “You know I love you?” It had become their way.

He hadn’t recognized it as being from the dream before.

Now he did.

His arm about her tightened and his other hand came across his chest to slide into the soft, golden hair at the side of her head. It was thick and gleamed in the firelight and, studying it, he knew his next thoughts but he had them anyway.

How could he ever not have fancied blondes?

Because, he knew, they were never
her
.

“I know, honey.”

“You’ll never forget?” she was still whispering.

His lungs burned and his neck arched slightly as the living grief tore through him but he forced his body to relax.

“I’ll never forget.”

She cuddled close and her hand slid across his chest to wrap around him tight. “I want you to promise to be happy but I don’t want you ever to forget.”

“I won’t forget.”

“Promise to be happy?”

To live the perfect dream with the perfect woman what amounts to a blink in your long life only to have it swept pitilessly away and then find a way to be happy for eternity?

Impossible,
Callum thought.

“I promise,” Callum said.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“I love you, baby doll.”

“I know,” she said on a fluttering sigh and his chest got so tight, Callum found it hard to breathe.

She lifted up, pressed deeper into him and he watched as she reached out to his nightstand and grabbed the wedding band he’d taken off earlier in preparation for transforming. She settled back beside him, her fingers curled around his wrist and she unwound his arm from her body, lifting his hand toward her face.

Then she slid his ring on his finger and lifted his hand to her mouth. With her eyes soft with adoration never leaving his, she kissed the band.

She linked her fingers with his and whispered, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to wear this forever.”

He clenched his teeth and gripped her hand tightly.

When he could speak, he said low, “I’ll always wear it.”

“You don’t –” Sonia started.

Callum cut her off.
“Always.”

She closed her eyes and Callum watched a single tear trail down her cheek.

At the sight, it took everything he had not to howl with grief and fury.

She opened her eyes and repeated, again on a whisper, “Thank you.”

He was pleased he’d not dreamed this part.

That was, fortunately, the only thought he had time to have. Sonia slid up and onto his body, her fingers gliding into his hair at the side of his head and she leaned in to kiss him.

He rolled her and kissed her first.

That time he had her, he went slow.

He took his time and he committed to memory his mate’s skin, her smell, her touch, the taste of her and the beautiful, sexy sounds she made.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Changes

“We could
try,
” Sonia, sitting beside Callum in the SUV, snapped.

“Baby doll, we’re not talking about this,” Callum replied, trying to keep hold of his temper and stay calm.

They were on their way to Titium and his men’s trial, which had been the source of their first disagreement that morning. They’d had three.

Callum forbid Sonia to go.

Sonia didn’t feel like being forbidden.

They had words. The words turned into a tussle. The tussle turned into play and, before Callum knew what he was doing, he was agreeing to let her attend the trial with him.

“All right, you can go,” he’d gritted while fending off her hands, legs and mouth which were pushing, kicking and biting intermittently with caressing, clutching and licking. He’d had enough. He could smell her excitement, hear her panting and, at that point, he wanted nothing but to bury himself inside her and he’d say just about anything to get what he wanted.

She’d grinned, stopped her struggles instantly and lifted her head, running her tongue along his neck.

He’d taken a moment to memorize that sweet sensation before he flipped her, grasped her hips and pulled her up to her knees, positioned himself between them and took her.
Hard.
Her reward for winning which was his reward too.

Christ, but she was the most sexually voracious human he’d ever met. He’d had her twice only six hours before.

And once already that morning.

Though, he wasn’t complaining.

Now, he didn’t even know what she was on about. Their second argument, God help him, about which boots he was going to fucking wear (another argument he lost, this time purposefully because it was so bloody ridiculous) had segued into a third and he wasn’t paying attention.