“At least tell me you’re a good… um, warrior,” she whispered and he grinned.
“The best,” he told her truthfully. “That’s why I’m king.”
At his words, she gave him a sad smile then got up on her toes to place her lips against his.
“Come back to me safe, my handsome wolf,” she murmured there.
He wanted to kiss her then but he couldn’t. If he did, with her so sweet in his arms, he wouldn’t have been able to stop.
Instead, he touched his forehead to hers, gave her another squeeze, let her go and walked out of the room without looking back.
Outside by his SUV, he embraced his mother, took off the wedding band Sonia had given him and handed it to her.
“Keep that safe,” he growled so low even Sonia, standing at the window upstairs, tears falling from her eyes and watching him, didn’t hear. “I’ll want it back the instant I come home.”
Regan nodded.
He swung in his SUV and, for the first time in his life before a battle, his mind wasn’t on the coming fight.
It was on his queen.
Little did he know her mind was on him as well.
And she cried long after he was gone. Long into the lonely night, in her lonely bed, in her lonely room, in her lonely house that even the company of the twinkling lights on her tree and her stuffed wolf couldn’t abate.
Callum’s queen cried not because he was going to battle (entirely).
She cried remembering the last two days they shared. Days that cracked through the bitterness that had built around her heart. Bitterness he had broken through with his tenderness and generosity and had given her hope that her dream had finally come true.
Bitterness that slammed back with a vengeance when that dream died the minute he took off the ring he seemed so proud to wear but, as observed from an outsider who had no idea why he did so, obviously was not.
Indeed, as observed from an outsider, it appeared he didn’t care about the ring or what it meant at all.
If he did, he’d understand, like her claiming chain, that he was never to take it off and, if he was truly proud to wear it, he never would.
* * * * *
“Sign it,” Callum growled, standing over Nikolas, the only chief of the rebellion left alive. He was on his knees, naked, wounded and bloodied, before his king.
Callum was also bloodied, both from his own healing wounds and from the blood of his victims, but he had taken the time, and given it to his warriors, to don clothes.
He had not allowed that courtesy amongst the scores of defeated wolves who were all now kneeled in front of him.
He might have done, if they had not slain his brother Calvin.
And he might have done, if they had not slain his father.
And he might have done, if the battle he’d waged on three fronts in the mountains, and on simultaneous fronts in four other territories, had not taken eight days to win.
And he might have done if he’d had more sleep in those eight days, which he had not as he’d only had an hour here or there and exhaustion had settled into his bones.
And he might have done if he’d not been so f**king hungry, not having the time to eat as he didn’t have the time to sleep.
And he might have done if the loss of wolves on both sides had not been so great simply due to their stubborn refusal to admit defeat because their surprise attack had indeed been a surprise, a resounding one. The enemy had been caught unaware, had never recovered and they should have admitted defeat days ago. In fact, within f**king hours.
And, lastly, he might have done if he hadn’t been so long separated from his queen.
But, because of all of that, and because he was King Callum, far more impatient and intemperate than his father, especially weary, hungry and angry, their humiliation ran alongside their defeat.
Nikolas stared up at him obstinately.
“Sign it!” Callum barked.
Nikolas’s face twisted with fury but his voice was a pained whisper when he said, “She’s a pretty piece.”
Callum’s body grew taut but he sought patience.
“Sign the terms of surrender and accept punishment as leader of your followers. Don’t sign it and we don’t stop until we’ve brought low every last one of you,” Callum warned.
“A pretty piece,” Nikolas repeated quietly. “She’ll make a beautiful slave.”
At once, Callum’s arm swung out and the back of his fist caught Nikolas with a brutal blow to his jaw, sending him sprawling on his back.
“For f**k’s sake, sign it!” he roared, bending over the wolf.
Nikolas scrambled back to his knees and shouted fanatically, “They all will! When we align with the other immortals who believe as we do, who believe in the divine order of things, all the humans will be what they were always meant to be. Our slaves!”
Callum drew in a sharp breath through his nose.
Then he turned his back to Nikolas and walked three paces away.
Swiftly, he turned again, crouched low and, in a blur of motion, sprung up through the air and landed as wolf on the defeated leader.
He ripped Nikolas’s throat out with his teeth.
First.
Then he tore the warrior’s head off.
Springing back to man, he caught the towel thrown at him by one of his wolves, wiped the blood from his jaws and sauntered to the clothes that he’d long since learned to leap out of while becoming wolf. He grabbed his pants and pulled them up.
As he did so, he turned to Ryon. “Go through every last one until one of them signs it,” he gritted as he picked up his shirt and shrugged it on. “They don’t sign it then send the order to the commanders on the fronts of the other territories. Give every rebel wolf the opportunity to sign the surrender.” His eyes locked on his cousin. “If they don’t, slay them.”
“It’s done,” Ryon replied, eyes lit with fury even through his fatigue.
When Callum was dressed, he turned to walk away.
“Where are you going?” Ryon called.
Callum kept walking and didn’t look back when he answered, “To my queen. We’re going home.”
Chapter Fifteen
Castle
Sonia woke under the heavy hides, feeling the soft sheets and the traitorously pleasant ache that sat heavy in every muscle in her body.
Then her eyes opened.
She stared at Callum’s empty pillows and the memories of the last nine days crashed brutally into her brain.
Even while Callum was away battling the rebellion, Sonia spent that time adhering to his orders as given to her through Regan.
She was to train Kerry and Mabel in managing Clear as Diana couldn’t stay forever, nor, apparently, could Sonia. Under his edict she also began the process of hiring a new shop assistant who her girls would eventually choose and who would work alongside them. This was because Sonia, as soon as the rebellion was quashed, Regan told her, would be moving to Callum’s castle in Scotland.