He couldn’t help it. He started chuckling and gave her another squeeze, cutting her off by saying, “Honey, your point?”
Her eyes got big a moment, she pulled in breath and whispered, “Right.” Then she went on swiftly, “What I was saying was, you don’t have to do the big thing for me, you know, even though, outside your sixteenth birthday, it’s the most important day in a girl’s life. But I wouldn’t ask you to wear the tuxedo and get a photographer and all that formal stuff but can I…” She looked at him, her eyes filled with discomfited yearning. “Would you mind if…?” She hesitated yet again and then forced out the words, “I know it isn’t the done thing but, at our Mating, can I at least wear a pretty, white dress?”
He stared at her a second, thrown, because he had no f**king clue what she was on about. At Matings wolves would dress up but dressing up for wolves was just wearing nicer but still casual clothes.
Then, unusually slowly, it hit him. Her twisting her wedding rings, talking of tuxedos and formalities and the most important day of a girl’s life.
Fuck, she was talking about a human wedding.
Which, being his mate, she’d never get.
But, being his human wife, she would want.
And she wanted it and her wanting it meant she wanted him.
That unease sifted away leaving Callum feeling only the soft warmth of her body pressed to his and her arms around him.
“Baby doll –” he started.
“You can say no,” she blurted. “It’s probably a stupid idea. Your people will think…” Her eyes got big again and she said, “Oh no, would they be offended?”
One of his hands traveled up her back and tangled in her hair as his face got closer to hers. “No, they wouldn’t be offended. Wear whatever you want.”
He saw excitement light in her eyes for a second before it extinguished. “Will I look stupid?”
Callum grinned, pulling her tighter to him. “Impossible.”
“I don’t want them to think I’m holding on… I mean, I don’t want them to think I don’t take my responsibility –”
He cut her off. “They’ll think you’re proud of who you are and proud of who you’re bound to, both of which my people will find honorable.”
The excitement came back in a flash.
“Really?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he answered.
“Seriously?” she pressed both verbally and by pushing closer to his frame.
Callum bit back laughter at her adorable, earnest look but he didn’t manage it entirely and still said through chuckling, “Yes, little one.”
She gazed at him as if looking for evidence of dishonesty.
Then her weight sagged into him, she put her cheek to his chest and she gave him a squeeze. “Good.”
He kissed the top of her head, enjoying the far different feeling he had now rather than the one he had when he first stood in the door to this room.
It was more than her embrace. It was more than the knowledge that she yearned to be tied to him through his rings, bearing his father’s name, adhering to the traditions of her people.
It was enjoying giving her something she very much desired.
Which meant what he had to do next hurt like a bitch.
“It’s past time for your injection.”
He felt her body tighten in his arms before she forced it to relax and he was glad he couldn’t see her eyes.
“I know,” she replied.
“Let’s go, baby doll.”
She nodded, her cheek sliding against his chest. She pulled away, he took her hand and guided her to their bathroom.
* * * * *
Callum shifted in his seat behind his desk and lifted his hand to his forehead pressing away the tension that formed there after the reminder of the injection.
Last week, he’d taken her to Aberdeen to visit the “specialist” who simply decreed that what Dr. Mortenson said about tolerance for the drug and life changes were to blame for her “turn”. He explained (three times) that there were no other treatments. He took more blood which, again, came back normal. And he suggested they titrate off the morning dose, injecting half for a few days then stopping altogether.
“Let’s hope that works,” he said on a distracted doctorly smile while simultaneously writing notes.
Callum had wanted to break his jaw for it not working meant unendurable pain for his mate which was what, through gritted teeth, he’d informed the doctor after he’d tersely called the man’s attention back to his patient and her husband.
“You know what to do now. Just give her another dose if she becomes symptomatic and go back to twice daily injections,” the doctor had replied calmly in the face of Callum’s controlled fury.
It was then Sonia had squeezed his hand and Callum made the decision not to throw the doctor out the window which was the decision he’d made the instant before she’d squeezed his hand.
Luckily, the titrating had worked and Sonia hadn’t become symptomatic.
Then again, if it was stress and life changes that had affected the efficacy of the drug, she was settling in and hopefully they wouldn’t have another “turn”.
Callum heard Ryon approaching and his mind moved directly to what filled it any time it wasn’t filled with Sonia’s smile, her affection, her laughter, her kindness, her humor, her sweet little body and how it responded to him, her deepening connection to him and his family and her f**king injection.
Where his mind moved also wasn’t to his duty as king.
It went to the fact that every day he didn’t tell her his secret, their life was becoming a lie.
Ryon came in on a smile and closed the door.
Since discovering Sonia had had her abilities her entire life, long enough for her father to explain she should hide them, they no longer held suspicions against the vampires.
However, they were also all aware that Sonia’s abilities rivaled theirs and clearly Ryon closing the heavy door meant there was something he wanted muted should Sonia be in hearing distance.
He approached Callum’s desk and sat opposite, declaring, “All is in place for tomorrow.”
Callum’s mouth got tight.
Ryon still felt Sonia needed time with the wolves and was against Callum telling her. They’d had words about it. Callum disagreed and decided he’d bloody well tell her when the right time arose.
Unfortunately that hadn’t happened and tomorrow hundreds of wolves would be celebrating in the streets.