Regardless of the gray day that threatened more snow, the village seemed vibrant and fascinating. There was a bakery with jam donuts, cookies and pastries displayed in its window, a peek inside showing different loaves of bread and rolls on wire racks behind a heated counter filled with warm savories. There was a fruit and vegetable shop with brightly colored produce in bushels in suspended baskets outside. There was a florist with vivid blooms in steel buckets out front. There was a butcher, a drug store, a shop that looked like it sold nothing but fishing gear. Another store that looked like it sold nothing but yarn. A women’s clothing store with a window that displayed more active, outdoorsy gear (but the bags and sweaters looked lush). A gift shop, which, when Sonia stole a glance inside while they strolled past, looked like it was filled with fun bits and bobs, none of which you needed but all of which you could convince yourself you did. And there was a café that was heaving with people eating or ordering teas and cakes.
And, lastly, even though it was a small village, it had no fewer than five pubs. Five!
Sonia would have liked the opportunity to peruse but this opportunity didn’t present itself.
Mainly because the other thing about the village was that it was busy with loads of people shopping or chatting on the sidewalks.
And all of them were Callum’s people, with clear eyes, long bodies, dark hair and beautiful faces.
And all of them, when they saw Sonia and Callum, looked surprised then delighted then they’d smile and start to drop to their knee.
And to all of them, Callum would say something like, “Keep your feet, Merriden, your queen doesn’t stand on ceremony.” Or, “Stand, Rhiannon, Queen Sonia isn’t big on formalities.”
Then they’d bow their head, grin a friendly grin at Sonia and chat with Sonia and Callum before letting them get on their way.
There were four things that surprised Sonia about this.
The first was that Callum knew all their names. Every last one.
The second was that he apparently wasn’t big on formalities either. She knew this because he chatted amiably with the villagers, his arm around Sonia’s shoulders, as if they were normal people, not a king and his new queen.
The third was that everyone was so welcoming, open, full of life and smiles and quick to laugh.
The last was that Callum acted to save her the discomfort of people bowing to her in the streets. People she had to live with and she wanted them to like her, not bow to her. She didn’t want to think that was a kindness he’d shown to her, having learned she didn’t like it the day before and thus stopping it from happening again. But she couldn’t help but think that it was.
They slowly made their way down one side of the street, stopping and chatting along the way as everyone else gazed at them frankly and speculatively. Then they slowly made their way down the other side of the street doing the same.
At the end of their journey, Callum led them into a pub, called “The Claw”. It, too, had diamond-paned windows but the glass was multi-colored in ambers, reds and greens and it had a furry paw with sharp claws painted on its suspended shingle.
The inside was inviting and warm after the cold of outside. There was a circular fireplace in the middle with a brass hood over it and a fire lit within. There were brass taps at the gleaming bar and a variety of cushioned seating. And there was another clawed paw etched in the mirror behind the bar.
Callum guided her directly to the bar and, when they stopped, he asked her, “Do you like cider?”
She gazed up at him and, figuring he wanted to warm her up with hot apple cider, though she would prefer hot cocoa but would request herbal tea, she asked, “Apple cider?”
He smiled and answered, “In a way, though not the way you’re used to.” Then he proclaimed, “You’ll try a cider.”
Then he turned to the bartender (who was named Ralph, by the way) and ordered their drinks and also two fish pies though he didn’t ask Sonia if she wanted fish pie, or anything to eat for that matter. He handed her a half pint glass of something cold and golden, told Ralph to, “Put it on Canis’s account,” and led them to a comfortable, curved couch by the fire.
He shrugged off the brown leather jacket she’d given him for Christmas. But he kept on the brown, burgundy and navy striped scarf wrapped around his throat over his thick, navy wool, cable-knit sweater (both of which Sonia had given him too). Sonia took his lead and divested herself of her own dusky-blue, woolen pea coat. Then Callum sat them close together.
Sonia tasted a sip of her cider and found it was brilliant, cool but refreshing.
She didn’t want to (she told herself) but she couldn’t help it. She liked the village. She liked the villagers. She liked being outside in the snowy cold. And she liked the cider.
“This is brilliant,” she told him as his arm slid around her and pulled her close.
“I’m glad you like it, honey.”
“I like the village too,” she added.
He made no response, just smiled down at her.
She didn’t want to (she told herself) but she couldn’t help it. She was just too curious to stop it.
“Have you lived here your whole life?”
He pulled her an inch closer and lifted his leg to rest the sole of his boot against the edge of the fireplace.
“A good part of it, yes. We spent some time in France, with my mother’s people. During a time of peace, when my father didn’t need me close, I lived in Canada for a while. And my father appointed me liaison to the British government for a brief period and I lived in London then.”
Well, that explained his accent.
“But you like it here?” she queried.
“I like it here.”
“The best?” she went on, Callum laughed and his hand gave her waist a squeeze.
“The best. Though I found it difficult leaving the Canadian Rockies. I’d been happy there,” he informed her.
This knowledge settled somewhere in Sonia (and, if she was honest, it was in the region of her heart) for she’d always been happiest in the American Rockies. And, she hated to admit it, but she really liked it right there.
Belatedly, she decided to find a different, less personal subject. One that couldn’t give Callum an opening through that guard around her heart.
Therefore, she enquired, “Liaison to the British government?”
He nodded and took a sip of his beer. “All governments know of our people.”
She looked to the fire, sipped at her cider and murmured, “I’m surprised about that.”
His hand gave her waist another squeeze and he asked, “Why?”
She looked back at him and replied, “Because you’re so secret. I had no clue.”
“No one has a clue,” he responded, “unless we want them to.” His face got closer and his voice got lower when he finished, “Like you.”
She pressed her lips together in an effort not to respond to how much she liked his face that close and his voice that low and looked again at the fire.
His big body relaxed further into hers. “Our people intermingle with your people all the time.”
“Do a lot of your people have human mates?” she queried.
“It’s rare,” he answered. “But it happens.”
Sonia looked about the pub and saw all eyes on them and all the eyes were clear and light. All the heads were dark. And all the bodies were big and long.
She turned back to Callum and whispered, “This whole village is your people.”
He looked down at her and smiled, “You noticed that?”
She nodded.
He pulled her even closer. “This is one of the reasons we need a liaison to the British government and why we have liaisons to every government. There are small countries like this around the world.”
“Countries?”
“Yes, little one,” he replied. “Villages, towns, even some small cities. This is our land, our country. The village and miles of wood that surround it. It isn’t owne
d by the British government. It’s owned and ruled by us. Didn’t you wonder why you didn’t go through Customs and Immigration when we arrived?”
She hadn’t thought of it, her mind was on other things.
“No,” she told him. “I’d never flown in a private jet before. I didn’t think about it.”
“Well,” he said, “that’s why. Not because you arrived in a private jet but because we landed on an airstrip, a private airstrip, our private airstrip that no one uses. The roads leading to this village are not on any map. Essentially, to your people, this place doesn’t exist.”
Sonia didn’t respond, she just stared at him.
Callum continued, “That doesn’t mean that humans don’t find their way here on occasion and they aren’t welcome when they do. They just wouldn’t be able to find their way back unless they had excellent memories and little fear of very bad roads.” He gave her a quick grin before he took a sip of his beer and then went on, “There are those of us who prefer living amongst their own, being who we are and how we are and not having to keep anything secret. There are those who find their calling in the human world and their profession takes them there. There are those who just like living in the human world, amongst more people, having more opportunities. There are others who move back and forth, depending on their mood. And there are others who live here but also like to spend time in the human world.” Then he finished, “Ryon’s like that.”
“What are you like?” she asked quietly, more curious than was prudent as to his answer.
“I like being with my people and I rarely stray into the human world,” he answered honestly.
“Don’t you like humans?” she blurted on a whisper before she could stop the words and then wished she could kick herself because she didn’t care (though, she did).
“I do,” he grinned again, his voice went soft, his eyes grew warm and his face got closer. “One in particular.”
She pulled in breath and reminded herself that he could be like this, sweet and tender one minute and the next…
Well, the next he would not.
“So why don’t you spend time with humans?” she pushed.
He sighed and pulled away, saying, “I just don’t understand them.”
Her eyes grew wide. “What’s not to understand?”
He gazed at her a second before he threw back his head and roared with laughter.
“What’s funny?” she demanded when his laughter calmed.
“You, baby doll,” he was still chuckling when he responded. “How much of my culture makes sense to you?”
She had to admit, he had a point.
She didn’t inform him of that fact. She looked to the fire and sipped her cider which caused him to chuckle.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said on another squeeze of her waist, capturing her attention.
She looked at him again and raised her eyebrows.
“I’ll help you understand my people and you help me understand yours.”
Before she could answer, she heard a noise outside. A noise that sounded like someone carrying bags slipped and fell to the sidewalk giving a startled cry of pain. She automatically tensed at the noise, as if she was going to rush outside to help, her eyes flashing to the door.
Then she realized it was a noise that Callum wouldn’t hear and she couldn’t help because she wasn’t supposed to hear it either.
As she had many times in her life, Sonia forced herself to relax and took another sip of her drink.
“Sonia,” he called and she hesitantly turned to look at him.
“Yes?” she answered, trying to look innocent and thinking maybe she failed for he was studying her closely.
He opened his mouth to speak but Ralph was there with two big plates on top of which sat smaller, oblong dishes of browned, fluffy mash potato-topped fish pies that were so hot they were steaming and looked delicious.
“Two fish pies, your grace?” Ralph asked.
Callum didn’t look happy to be disturbed but he nodded, moved them to a table and they ate their pies (filled with salmon, cream, carrots, herbs, onions and cheese, they were to die for and likely a million calories each).
Their conversation died because Callum seemed deep in thought and Sonia didn’t have anything to say.
After that, he took her back to the castle.
But not before taking her to the bakery and buying her a huge Viennese cookie, half of it dipped in a thick layer of chocolate. This he ordered her to eat in the Rover and, when she refused, he pulled the car to the side of the road, turned to her and raised his brows ominously.
She ate the cookie and she hated herself for being so weak.
She hated him more.
But the cookie, she had to admit, was delicious.
* * * * *
Callum made Sonia take it easy the rest of the afternoon but he made her do it while lounging on the couch in his study while he sat at the desk and worked. Clicking through his laptop or talking on the phone but mostly he seemed to spend his time writing notes in longhand.
They ate dinner, he took her to their room for her injection and after they lay on the couch in the room he called “the lounge”. It was a couch upholstered in hides (and she told herself it wasn’t soft and snugly, but it was). He threw a woolen rug over them (making them snugly too) and they watched Cool Hand Luke which, according to Callum, was his brother, Calder’s favorite movie, a fact Sonia didn’t find surprising.
The phone rang (or, dozens of them rang all through the house) as they were winding their way upstairs to bed. Sonia was also winding herself up trying to figure out how she was going to stop him from making love to her, or, more precisely, herself from wanting him to.
“You go on up, baby doll, I’ll be there in a second,” he murmured distractedly and peeled off into a room.
She was asleep by the time he joined her in bed.
And the urge was over her by the time he woke her with a hand between her legs and fingers rolling her nipple.
There was no chance to fight it, she was too far gone.
She arched her back and pressed her hips into his hand.
“You’re still tender, honey, I’ll –” he started but she rolled to him, dislodging his hands, and kissed him.
Then she did other things to him with her mouth.
Then he did things to her.
Then he took her, not hard and rough, but slow and sweet and she didn’t scream to her wolf when she climaxed. She whispered it in his ear on a contented sigh.
Then she fell asleep in his arms.
She woke up in them too, just as far gone as the night before but Callum wasn’t in the mood to be slow and sweet. He was in a different mood. And, with the urge over her, Sonia liked his mood.
She liked it so much she begged for it.
After, she lay on her belly, her eyes closed, her mind trying to regulate her breathing.
She felt him lying beside her, her head was turned away from him but she knew he was up on an elbow and his fingers were trailing lightly along the naked skin of her back. His hand finally glided down over her bottom and he reached low as it slid down the back her thigh and he gently cocked her leg.
Then, just as he had done after her claiming, he coated her thighs with their combined wetness.
She felt his chest at her back and his fingers digging in her hip when he growled in her ear, “That’s the most beautiful thing in the world.”
Sonia didn’t respond verbally but she shivered deliciously because, somewhere, deep down, even though she told herself she didn’t, she agreed.
His fingers gave her hip another, far gentler, squeeze.
“Dress warm before coming to me,” he ordered before exiting the bed, throwing the hides over her and walking to the bathroom.
Before he left the room, he tucked her stuffed wolf in her arms and kissed her temple.
Sonia stared at the pillows, clutching her wolf, and told herself not to cry.
She also t
old herself, that day, she was going to find a way to end this.
Before Maraleena could arrive, she threw back the hides, went to the bathroom and took a shower.
* * * * *
However, Sonia didn’t find a way to end it.
Instead, she had breakfast with Maraleena and Callista in the kitchen again and they spent that time teaching her queenly etiquette and protocol and doing it hilariously. Callista acted out the silent part of the queen while Maraleena acted out the domineering part of the king and all three of them giggled until their sides hurt.
When she arrived at the door to Callum’s study, he was already striding across the room. Sonia barely got her mouth open before he took her up the stairs for her injection and then he said they were off to explore the wood.
Before she could say another word, they were off to explore the wood.
That was the worst because it was the best.
Tramping through the snow and the trees, the brisk air in her lungs, the cold on her face, the warmth in her active muscles, she could smell the wildlife, hear it and sense it all around her.
And she loved it.
It reminded her of being out with her father all those times when she was a child. She hadn’t done it since he’d died and she forgot just how much she loved it.
No, how much it felt right, like she was where she belonged, like she’d come home.
And being there with the sweet, tender Callum. Feeling that with him, while Callum held her hand as they trudged through snow. Stopping her every once in a while to place his hand under her jaw, tilt her head to his and brush his lips to hers (and sometimes it was far more than a brush). Coming to a rise which exposed a new vista and both of them halting, standing close and just experiencing the view. She allowed herself to pretend. Just that once, she allowed herself to be where she always loved to be with the man she wanted for so long to be hers.
So, when they returned, without demur, she ate lunch seated in his lap and, after lunch, she made out with him in his desk chair that was turned to face the roaring fire. She didn’t make a peep when he picked her up, walked her to the couch and set her down.
With Everything I Am Page 35