Home > With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(124)

With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(124)
Author: Kristen Ashley

As the warriors at the steps stood sentry, flowers, tins and lit candles were placed on the steps as wolves came forward giving Callum a nod and Sonia a smile before giving their gifts.

This all happened silently before they turned to their cars or to make their way back up the hill to their tents.

It took longer than a minute and she was chilled through to the bone by the time the last wolf dipped his head to Sonia’s mate and sent a smile Sonia’s way.

But Sonia barely felt the cold or the biting pain that had begun to torment her back.

As any queen would, she stood for her people, injuries and all.

When it was done, without a word, Callum guided her back to their room, slid the robe from her shoulders and carefully pushed her into bed.

He kissed her injured temple at the bottom of the torn skin.

Then he slid his temple along her hair and in her ear, he whispered, “Sleep now, baby doll.”

He pulled the hides higher and he was gone.

Sonia didn’t think she could sleep. Not after that.

But it didn’t take long before she did.

Chapter Twenty

Reckoning

Today was the day of reckoning.

Sonia knew it.

She could feel it.

Callum was angry.

He’d been patient.

For a while.

That wore off and he’d been patiently impatient.

For another while.

Now he was mad.

And she didn’t care (or, that’s what she told herself).

It had been three weeks since the incident where she’d learned his true nature (all of it) and those three weeks were the longest of her life.

* * * * *

Sonia had forgiven Regan, Ryon and Caleb for their duplicity the very next day.

She’d done this because she knew they’d lied to her because King Callum ordered it, or, if she was being fair, just kept things from her. Things that would seriously freak her out but that was almost like lying even if those things were things that would seriously freak her out.

But she’d also done it because she cared about them.

* * * * *

Regan had come up with a late breakfast tray and the moment she looked at Sonia, Regan’s obvious hesitancy instantly tore at Sonia’s heart.

Sonia, who’d been awake for a while and had been lying in bed, feeling sorry for herself and lamenting her fate at the same time contradictorily feeling both honored by the remarkable and touching display the wolves made for her that morning, sat up carefully when she saw Regan’s shaky smile.

Then she reached her hand out to her mother-in-law.

Regan all but dropped the tray on the nightstand, sat on the bed and, taking care with Sonia’s wounds, gave her a gentle hug.

“It was a shock but I still was awful,” Sonia whispered in her ear, able to hug Regan back far more tightly.

“We shouldn’t have waited. Callum wanted –” Regan started but Sonia gave her a squeeze.

She didn’t want to hear about anything that Callum wanted.

“It doesn’t matter now,” she assured Regan.

Regan pulled back and framed Sonia’s face in her hands. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry about all of this.”

“That’s the last time you apologize for being who you are,” Sonia said firmly curling her fingers around Regan’s, pulling them down and holding their hands between them. “It was a shock. It’s over. It’s all good now,” she finished on a lie and her own shaky smile.

Regan’s eyes searched Sonia’s and hers remained troubled. “So, you’re not angry with Callum?”

No, she wasn’t angry with him.

Not anymore.

She’d never be anything with him anymore.

Not because he was a gosh darn werewolf and didn’t tell her (or not only because of that).

Not because all of his people were werewolves and he didn’t tell her (or, also, not only because of that).

Not to mention the existence of vampires which, she realized, feeling immensely stupid (and she blamed Callum for that too), Gregor and Yuri were too by their smell which was like Lucien’s which, like wolves, wasn’t like humans (but, in her defense, how could Sonia know werewolves and vampires existed!).

And not because he was not only her handsome wolf but also her beloved puppy and he’d torn both of them away from her (or, again, not only because of those).

But because he’d disappeared for a day and most of a night, doing God knew what with God knew who and then returned to their bed, proving her fevered suspicions true by smelling how he smelled after they had sex and pretended to be caring and kind and thoughtful but doing it an arrogant bastard type of way.

Naturally, she knew he’d find someone else eventually.

She just didn’t know how much it’d hurt and when she’d thoroughly processed it, lying and crying in their bed, how dead she felt and how surprised she was that feeling dead hurt worse.

She also didn’t know the depths of that pain and her torture were not even close to being plumbed until he made her admit she loved him.

God, it was too humiliating to even contemplate.

She admitted she loved him!

Which, because evidently she was weak, weak, weak, was all she could contemplate while lying in bed that morning.

“I’m sure Callum and I will be fine,” she lied again to Regan who gave her a look like she knew Sonia was lying but she let it go.

She stayed while Sonia ate and then gave Sonia pain pills because the stitches at her back were, by then, killing her and the pills made Sonia drowsy.

Therefore, Sonia slept.

She woke in Callum’s arms.

Or, more precisely, with her head and hand resting on his stomach, his shoulders were against the headboard, his long legs stretched out straight in front of him and his arm was around her shoulders with his fingers drawing lazy circles on her skin.

“You awake, honey?” he asked.

She clenched her jaw at the empty endearment.

“Yes,” she answered.

“How are you feeling?”

Like garbage, through and through, she thought but did not say out loud.

“It hurts.” And that wasn’t a lie. It was just an understatement.

“Poor baby,” he murmured and he was lucky she was wounded or she’d have attacked even though he could rip her to shreds with his claws and his teeth.

“Regan said you had a nice visit,” he told her.

“We did,” Sonia affirmed.

His hand squeezed her shoulder with approval.

She again fought the urge to tear her stitches out of her back by attacking him.

“Do you feel like moving around?” he asked. “I’ll help you in the bath.”

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