With Everything I Am

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With Everything I Am Page 21

by Kristen Ashley


  His spell broken, Sonia realized there were other people in the room. Her face flushed with renewed embarrassment hoping that they didn’t overhear Callum’s whispers and her body tensed.

  Callum felt it. He had to feel it and that must have been why he quickly changed the subject and asked her, “What are you doing today?”

  His question surprised her.

  She didn’t know. She didn’t know there would be a choice.

  Before he lost his generous mood, she blurted, “I’d like to go to my store.”

  “Perfect,” he grinned, the gold retreating, the blue taking over his irises and her mouth dropped open at his response and his grin. “Regan’s been dying to go to your store. She’s on her way here now. You can take her with you.”

  Sonia liked the idea of showing Regan her store. She was proud of Clear. It was, in the only way she’d ever get, like showing her Momma her store because Regan had known her Momma for ages and they’d been close friends.

  “I’d like that,” she said softly and Callum’s eyes also went soft, this time not in a sexy way, in a tender way.

  “She’s also going to take you to the grocery store,” Caleb announced from across the table and Sonia’s head swung to face him. “You don’t have any beer in your house.”

  Sonia glanced at the clock she could see over her sink in the kitchen and back at Caleb.

  “It’s 10:30 in the morning,” she informed him.

  “Your point?” Caleb shot back hilariously before he grinned.

  Sonia grinned back.

  “Queen Sonia, this is Magnum, he’s Sergeant of Callum’s Royal Guard,” Saint introduced the man sitting at the table that Sonia didn’t know. Though she had briefly met him, though didn’t remember his name, in the round robin introductions yesterday after they’d dealt with Desdemona.

  “Magnum,” she smiled at him.

  “Queen Sonia,” he replied.

  She threw her hand out and said to Magnum, “Considering all this queen stuff is new and I don’t want to get a big head, you know, being suddenly royal and all, it’s probably best to lose the ‘queen’ part and just call me Sonia.” Her eyes glided to Saint to include him in her statement.

  She felt Callum’s body relax under hers and hadn’t noticed it was tense. He leaned forward and grabbed his coffee mug from the table, taking her with him and bringing her attention to him. As he leaned back, his neck twisted, he looked at her and he winked.

  King Callum winked at her.

  Holy cow.

  Her body went statue-still.

  He took a sip of coffee, replaced the mug, sat back and his hand at her hip gave her a squeeze before he called, “Baby doll?”

  “What?” she whispered, still frozen, mind blank, reacting to the wink and the fact that that one wink took the cotton out of the thimble and filled it with cement.

  “You okay?” Callum asked.

  She blinked. Then she swallowed.

  “I just have a headache,” she replied.

  One look at his face told her that was the wrong answer. His brows shot together and his hand at her hip gripped her harder.

  “Do you get those often?” he enquired.

  “What?”

  “Headaches?” he asked, his voice not soft, not tender, not teasing but sounding impatient.

  “Um…” she was uncertain of the state of affairs or, more to the point, uncertain how his mood had flipped so quickly. For goodness sakes, it was just a headache. “Not really. I mean, occasionally. When I’m under stress.”

  “Did you take something for it?” he queried, she nodded and his hand relaxed as did his body. “Is that what I heard you taking this morning?”

  She nodded again, saying cautiously, “That and my vitamins.”

  “It sounded like you were opening a pharmacy in there. How many vitamins do you take?”

  She did a quick mental calculation and told him, “Six.”

  He stared at her.

  “In the morning,” she went on when he didn’t speak. “I take a couple more at lunch.”

  He burst out laughing.

  She blinked again at his second change of mood in the last thirty seconds then she decided to look on the bright side. At least he didn’t look angry anymore.

  His hand traveled up her back to cup her neck and maneuver her head toward his.

  Mouth again at her ear, he stated quietly, “We’ll work out that stress later, baby doll.”

  And, fighting the shiver his words caused, she could do nothing but nod yet again.

  His other hand slid up the outside of her thigh, over her hip and under her silk knit, wide ribbed, black turtleneck, then down, digging into the waistband of her winter white wool slacks.

  This time, she hadn’t forgotten their audience and she stiffened in his arms.

  “Callum, what are you –?” she stopped when his long finger hooked on something under the material of her slacks and he pulled out her claiming chain. Freeing it completely, he settled it around her hips outside her slacks as she finished breathily, “Doing.”

  Her mind took that moment to remind her how the chain felt dangling from her body while he drove into her last night, the delicate links a tantalizing torment against her sensitive skin. And more, after they had climaxed, when she had lowered her arms and Callum was still behind her, gently thrusting inside her, the chain had slid up her waist, her ribcage, to rest on the underside of her overly aroused breasts. The charm tweaking so close to her nipple, at the time, every inch of her body so responsive, she’d had to bite her lip not to cry out in pleasure.

  That reminder, so sharp it was almost as if took her back to the actual moment, made the urge start to surface, wanton impulses flooded her brain. Things she wanted to do to Callum. Things she wanted him to do to her.

  “I like to see it,” Callum muttered, his voice bringing her hooded eyes to his. His gaze lifted from the chain to her face and his body grew tight under hers then he whispered, “Fucking hell, baby doll.”

  She took in a fluttering breath and tried to calm her thoughts, focusing on his hand still moving at her chain. He was fiddling with it and her head tipped down to look.

  Then her mind erased as she saw for the first time (as she hadn’t had a lot of time yesterday and she hadn’t been paying much attention to anything but to her fevered thoughts this morning), the charm.

  In heavy gold, beautifully rendered, it was the head of a snarling wolf with two eyes made of yellow diamonds.

  “It’s a wolf,” she breathed and she was so taken by the charm, entranced by it, she missed the air in the room getting tense.

  She forgot the bricks on the bad side of the scale. She forgot everything. Except the fact that Callum had put that charm on her claiming chain.

  Her head snapped up and he’d moved so close, he had to rear his own back to miss being clipped on the chin.

  “I love wolves!” she cried, unable to hide the delight in her voice and still not sensing the air, which had now lightened considerably. In fact, she was so touched by this gesture of Callum’s (obviously someone told him that she loved wolves), that she didn’t even notice the soft chuckles coming from the table.

  Callum’s face was back to that affectionate softness when he replied, “I know you do, honey.”

  “No, I really, really love wolves,” she blurted.

  The chuckles grew louder but she still didn’t process it as Callum was now smiling a white, gorgeous smile and his voice held his own mirth when he said, “Yes, honey, I know.”

  Her head tipped back down and she remarked with wonder in her tone, “He’s a beauty.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  She whipped her head back again and uttered with feeling, “Thank you.”

  His head dipped and he rested his forehead to hers. “You thanked me last night, baby doll, twice. But the second time was so good, you earned another charm.”

  Her breath caught, her breasts swelled but she had little tim
e for these reactions.

  His mouth took hers in a thorough, beautiful kiss much like the one he gave her last night but this one was different. It was also hungry. Further, it was in front of an audience.

  “Should we leave the room?” Caleb asked in a teasing voice.

  Callum pulled away and glared at his brother.

  Sonia, blushing, back to embarrassed, ducked her head under his chin, tucked her face in his neck and chanced a glance at the group from under her lashes.

  They were all grinning at her and Callum.

  But it was Saint who noticed her pinkened cheeks and said to her gently, “I remember those first days after I claimed my mate, Sonia. You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.” He looked around the table and said, “We all have either felt it or want to.”

  Considering Sonia’s face was burning so hot, before it melted to oblivion, she decided the best thing to do was to change the subject and do it immediately, “You have a mate?”

  “I do,” Saint replied.

  “I’d like to meet her,” Sonia told him.

  “I’m certain she’d like that too,” Saint smiled.

  Callum’s arms came around her and she decided to take a sip of her coffee instead of giving him her attention, as giving him her attention was making her do stupid things.

  Not having her facing him didn’t deter Callum in the slightest.

  His mouth came to her ear and he whispered, again low, “Something else we’re going to do later, baby doll. You’re going to tell me what was on your mind a minute ago when you looked like you look about a split second before you come.”

  Sonia bit her lip, slid her eyes to the side, caught the seriously sexy look on his face (or, it might have been a sexy serious look, she couldn’t quite tell) and decided her best way forward was just to nod.

  This was the right thing to do. He slid his temple against hers again.

  She relaxed in his arms.

  The doorbell rang.

  “That’ll be Regan,” Caleb announced.

  “I’ll get it,” Magnum offered and rose from his chair to go to the door.

  “Sonia,” Callum called.

  Sonia kept sipping her coffee with her eyes following Magnum as she mumbled, “Mm?”

  “Ryon tells me you throw a Christmas party every year.”

  That statement brought her head around and she looked in Callum’s eyes, wondering what was on his mind.

  “Yes,” she answered tentatively.

  “I’ve decided, since this situation is likely to keep us here for a while, regardless if we take care of it, we’ll stay for the holidays. You should go ahead with the party.”

  Sonia’s heart leapt and another thimble full of cement (maybe two, or even three) joined the first.

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Really,” he replied, his eyes studying the expression on her face with a look in them she could swear was almost doting. “You like Christmas so I want you to have your Christmas just as you like it.”

  “Hello all,” Regan called as she came in but Sonia only had eyes for Callum and only had thoughts on the fact that her heart had skipped a happy beat.

  Not of her volition, her hand came up and rested against the side of his head.

  Then she used her thumb to smooth his dark brow after which she moved it down and she used it to stroke his bottom lip.

  Then she said softly, again with feeling, “Thank you.”

  So deep in her gratitude, she noted only in a dazed way that Callum’s face was suddenly hungry, his eyes were fully tawny and she heard him growl. It came deep from the back of his throat and seemed to vibrate through her body, sending the ever-present pulsating between her legs soaring.

  “Oh my, the newly claimed,” Regan observed and both Callum and Sonia, with effort, turned to focus on Callum’s mother. “It’s a shame this business is happening now, you two need a few weeks alone in a castle.”

  Sonia stared at her but Caleb spoke in a mutter. “I just hope he can keep his mind on the matter at hand and off his dick.”

  “Caleb!” Regan snapped at the same time Callum bit out the same word.

  “Give me a break, Regan,” Caleb returned. “You haven’t been here the past ten minutes. Seriously, the newly claimed, fucking hell.”

  Sonia, firmly out of the moment and back to embarrassed, squirmed in Callum’s lap. Callum felt it and he didn’t like it.

  Therefore, he aimed a dark look at his brother.

  “Caleb, I’ll not tolerate that shit again,” he warned in a dangerous voice.

  “Whatever,” Caleb mumbled, obviously used to Callum’s dangerous voice.

  “All right, moving on,” Regan announced in a way that said she had lots of experience stepping between her battling sons. “Sonia, sweetheart, we’re going to the grocery store. Callum called this morning and said practically everything in your refrigerator is white. I don’t know what that means but I do know it doesn’t sound good. Our people eat,” she finished on a smile.

  “Sonia’s taking you to Clear now, Regan,” Callum informed his mother. “You can go to the grocery store later.”

  “Brilliant!” Regan cried instantly as her eyes lighted and she clapped happily.

  When she did so, Sonia noticed she was carrying a small, glossy, charcoal gray shopping bag.

  Wow, it was barely 11:00 o’clock and Regan had already been shopping. Callum’s Mom was clearly the shopping master.

  Taking her mind off the bag, her husband and moving it to the day before her, Sonia slid out of Callum’s lap, taking another sip of coffee before saying, “I just need to run up to my office and get the invitations for my Christmas party. They’re ready to post. There’s a mailbox on the way to Clear.”

  Those invitations had been ready to post, stamped and addressed since the day after Thanksgiving.

  Callum was letting her have her Christmas party, something she looked forward to all year.

  And, Sonia hoped, maybe, just maybe, if things kept going like this, the good would eventually outweigh the bad.

  “Excellent, sweetheart,” Regan smiled warmly at her and Sonia smiled warmly back.

  Another, definitely larger, thimble of cement on the good things side of the scale was Regan. Until then, Sonia hadn’t fully realized what she was missing growing up with Gregor and Yuri and no motherly-type figure.

  It was lucky she realized it when she actually had a motherly-type figure.

  She smiled to herself, suddenly strangely contented. So much so her headache had disappeared. She walked into the kitchen and put her mug in the dishwasher then ran up the stairs to her office. Piling the invitations down the length of her arm, she ran back down.

  Callum was in the living room, his head bent to his mother, when Sonia arrived.

  Regan took one look at her and stated, “I’ll go get a bag, easier to carry those.”

  “There in –” Sonia started to tell Regan where to find a bag but Regan waved her hand, rushed forward, divesting Sonia of the invitations and bustled off.

  “I’ll find them,” she muttered and Sonia watched her go.

  “Baby doll,” Callum called and she turned to him. He got close and grabbed her hand, mumbling, “One thing.”

  His head was bent to her hand and she looked down too. He was carrying a jeweler’s box in plush, charcoal gray velvet. He flipped it open and she saw the sparkle inside just a moment before he pulled out the two rings nestled together there and tossed the box unceremoniously on a table close to them.

  Then, without further ado, he slid a set of wedding rings on her left ring finger.

  Sonia held her breath and stared as he slid on the thin wedding band of gold imbedded with twinkling yellow diamonds and its accompanying yellow diamond solitaire. The solitaire was huge, so gigantic it could be seen from space and it was set at the sides with more glimmering diamonds.

  Regardless of the diamond’s size, it wasn’t ostentatious but extraordinary. Sonia had neve
r seen anything like its exquisite, extortionate beauty.

  Callum dropped her hand in an absent way that didn’t coincide with the fact he just slid a wedding ring on her finger and this jarred Sonia out of her rapt study of the rings.

  Then his hand moved to the chain that was resting outside her slacks, his finger hooked it yet again and he gave it a gentle tug.

  “This is important,” he declared in a kingly voice and she felt her body start to grow tight at his tone as he went on. “But your people don’t understand the significance so that,” he jerked his head to her hand, “will declare to your people that you’re mine.”

  This wasn’t a romantic gesture, a gesture of love.

  This was another kind of claiming, one that physically proclaimed the fact that Sonia was Callum’s, his possession. He owned her and the fierce, kingly look on his face cemented that fact.

  The thimbles on the good side of the scale started trembling as Regan walked in carrying a bag filled with the invitations.

  “Oh look!” she cried. “You’re wearing your chain outside your slacks. What a lovely idea.”

  Regan approached and, woodenly, Sonia turned to her as Regan stopped close and beamed.

  “I looked at hundreds of chains before I chose that one for you,” Regan commented and at her words Sonia felt like rocks were pummeling her body. “I liked the charm,” Regan went on, “such a fierce wolf.”

  Callum hadn’t chosen the chain or the charm for her.

  Like her wedding rings, his mother had.

  Kings, apparently, didn’t bother shopping for their mates, even if it was for things as significant as claiming chains and wedding rings.

  And, as another brick crashed down on the bad side of her scales, the thimbles that were added that morning slid off the good side in the tumult.

  However, unfortunately, Sonia didn’t know the way of the wolves.

  She didn’t know that it was millennia-old tradition that a wolf’s mother chose the chain to be bestowed on his mate and therefore, in a nod to Sonia’s humanity but still adhering to their traditions, Regan had also chosen her wedding rings as a matter of course.

  Sonia didn’t even know they were wolves.

 

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