Instantly, still facing away, she replied bitterly, “Oh, you’re understood, your grace.”
Callum growled low.
Sonia didn’t make another noise.
Callum scowled at her hair.
Then his hand moved and his thumb encountered bandage. His anger evaporated, his eyes closed and visions of her little, prone, bleeding body lying on the steps to their home filled his brain. To dispel the images, his eyes shot open.
That night was not the night for her to die.
But, for one unbearable second, when his eyes took in her wounds, he felt that sinister sliver of fear score through him.
Callum leaned into her cautiously and shoved his face in her hair.
“No one can piss me off like you do, honey,” he whispered there. “But I’m sure as f**k relieved you’re all right.”
Her body tensed at his first words and stayed tight for long moments after he finished speaking.
Then, slowly, it relaxed.
And, with it, so did Callum’s.
* * * * *
Callum woke several times in the night to check his mate and stoke the fire.
It wasn’t until a muted, gray dawn started slowly to sweep the sky that he woke her one last time.
Sonia mumbled sleepily that she was all right as she’d been doing all night.
But this time, she turned into him. Still on her belly, she pressed her soft body into the side of his hard one, rested her cheek on his pectoral and her arm stole across his stomach.
Her weight settled heavily into his and he knew she was asleep.
Callum also knew it would be all right.
For actions, especially when they were instinctive, for both humans and wolves, said a great deal more than words.
His hand gathered her hair in one fist, he twisted it until it was a long rope and then he coiled it around his palm and, he too, finally fell asleep.
For all of ten minutes because, soon, he’d learn, they were coming.
* * * * *
“Regan, the plan was agreed.”
Regan stared out the window at the dawn’s very early light, in fact, there was almost none and snapped into her mobile, “Well, I didn’t agree.”
“Yes,” Gregor returned calmly. “But Mac, Lassiter and I did.” He saved his winning point for last. “And so did Cherise.”
Regan knew that.
She knew it.
She shut her eyes tight.
“Gregor, they’re suffering,” she whispered. “Especially Sonny.”
She heard Gregor’s pained sigh before he replied softly, “They’re meant to, Regan. You know this has to be the way.”
“Why does it have to be them?” Regan cried.
“I don’t know, it just does,” Gregor answered in a way that stated eloquently he liked it about as much as Regan did then he finished, “Regan, you know, this isn’t just the way it has to be, it’s the only way.”
Regan was silent.
This silence, they both knew, was her agreement.
“Describe her wounds again,” Gregor demanded and Regan did as she was asked even though it was the third time she did then Gregor went on. “Tell me what Callum’s done to Titium.”
“Ordered Ryon and Caleb to incarcerate him and his men. They’ll all stand trial.”
“He has too much of Mac in him,” Gregor grunted and, despite her escalating sense of despair, Regan smiled.
Only Gregor, a vampire, would think Callum had too much Mac in him. By the wolf’s standard, Regan’s son was ruthless.
Though, not as ruthless as a vampire.
“As I told you,” Regan reminded Gregor, “Titium howled surrender before Callum could attack.”
“Too much Mac,” Gregor repeated.
Regan changed the subject. “You’ll need to come to her.”
“Yes,” Gregor agreed. “Earlier than expected.”
Regan held her breath a moment before saying, “You’re going to –”
Gregor interrupted her, “There’s no reason to delay.”
Regan sagged against the windowsill in relief.
Soon it would be over, for her son and for Sonia.
Thank God.
Then she blinked into the slowly rising dawn.
Not because it was bright.
But because the cars had started coming.
She stared.
“Regan?”
“I’ve got to go,” Regan said distractedly.
“What is it?” Gregor asked as Regan saw the shadows forming on the hills, coming from tents, moving slowly, making their way to the castle.
She felt a thrill slide up her spine as tears filled her eyes.
And softly, but with immense pride, she whispered, “My people are attending their queen.”
Chapter Nineteen
Werewolves
Sonia felt like she’d just fallen asleep when Callum moved, sliding gently away from her but holding her body still. Only when he’d disengaged did he settle her carefully on the mattress, a pillow under her cheek where his chest had been.
She felt his heat leave the bed but the hides came up to her neck and then they were tucked softly around her.
She drifted but on the edge of her consciousness she heard a door open and close.
Then she drifted again until she heard hazily from somewhere far away Callum muttering, “Bloody hell.”
She smiled into the pillow and then let out a soft, fluttering sigh. She loved it when he got annoyed, she thought it was cute.
Though she’d never tell him that.
On that fuzzy thought, she fell asleep.
For about thirty seconds.
“Baby doll,” his big hand was curled around the side of her head, “you need to wake up.”
Her eyes fluttered open and she tilted her head to look up at him.
Then a nagging ache struck her temple and a dull pain which hinted at something more piercing dragged her back and she remembered.
She closed her eyes and twisted her neck on a half wince. She heard him curse and her eyes opened again.
His mouth was hard when she looked at him.
“Does it hurt?”
Did it hurt?
Her head and back, sure. She’d banged her head on a stone step and had a freaking werewolf claw through her jacket.
But she hurt other places worse and for reasons that she knew down to the depths of her mortal soul, those wounds would never heal.
She decided to answer his question. “Just a little bit.”
His handsome face softened and she wanted to scratch it with her nails. She wanted to lean into it and scream. And she wanted to tilt her head and kiss him. She couldn’t do any of those things and she hated him for it.
“I’m sorry but I need you to come with me, honey, just for a little bit. Then we’ll get you back into bed and you can sleep,” he told her and then before she could blink he was gone.