With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(117)
Author: Kristen Ashley

He ignored it and went on, lifting his head to look at her. “Second, you can describe one of your dreams about me.”

She stared at him in horror.

He grinned and ignored that too.

“Third, you can kiss me.” He rested his forehead to hers and concluded, “Now, pick two.”

“Can I do one now and one –?”

He lifted his head then shook it. “Two.”

She glared at him.

Then she snapped, “Dream.”

When she said no more, he gave her a squeeze, bit back his smile and encouraged, “Go on.”

“Well, the last one I had,” she hesitated and revised, “the last real one went like this.” She sat up straighter in his lap and turned fully to him. “I was sleeping and my puppy, um… that would be my wolf. You know, the one I told you I met when I was a child?” She waited for him to nod. He did, his amusement diminishing and his mouth tightening about the fact that he still hadn’t told her he was her “puppy” as she went on, “Anyway, he always comes to me in the dreams first. So he came to me. I was sleeping. I woke up and he was beside the bed. I said hi to him and he sat down. I asked where you were and then closed my eyes. Then I opened them and my puppy was gone but you were there. I felt the covers slide down me and…”

Callum’s body tightened as she continued, explaining, to every last detail, the dream he’d had last night.

“Then you start to… you know and I woke up,” she finished.

Callum stared at her.

She stared back.

Then her brow furrowed and she whispered, “What?”

“That’s your dream?”

She bit her lip, released it and continued quietly, “I told you they weren’t actually sexual, as such. It probably doesn’t seem like very much to you but… you have to feel it.”

Oh, he’d felt it.

He’d f**king felt it.

“What about after we have sex?” he demanded to know.

Her brows drew together in confusion and she repeated, “What?”

“You never dream of us having sex. But what about when you dream about us after we’ve had sex?”

“I’ve never dreamed of that.”

He stared at her, trying to assess if she was lying.

She still looked confused but serious.

“Never?” he pushed.

“Never. Why do you –?”

“You never dream of us lying together, telling me you love me and never to forget it?”

Her face paled again and she whispered, “No, Callum, I’ve never dreamed of that.”

At once distracted and needing to find Lucien, completely forgetting Sonia’s explanation of how it made her feel when he lost sight of taking care of his mate, Callum ordered, “Kiss me.”

“Wh… what?”

His eyes focused irately on her. “Sonia, kiss me.”

“But –”

“Fucking do it.”

She jerked in his arms.

Then she did it. Her hands curling around his neck, she pressed her lips against his quickly and then just as quickly, she pulled away.

“Now tell me you love me,” he demanded.

“But you said only two –”

“Sonia,” he warned, impatient to talk to Lucien.

She stared at him and he was so preoccupied he didn’t notice the life ebbing from her always lively eyes nor did he notice her flat voice when she said, as if by rote, “I love you, Callum.”

He touched his lips to her forehead, stood, putting her on her feet and he strode from the room.

Therefore he wasn’t there when Sonia stared at the door, her lips trembling, silent tears sliding down her cheeks.

And he wasn’t there when she snatched her rings from the nightstand and she dug until she found her stuffed wolf and tore it from under the covers.

And he wasn’t there when she walked by the fire Callum had stoked that morning and blindly threw the rings and the wolf into the fire.

But Sonia was so blinded by emotion that, luckily, her stuffed wolf bounced off the side and onto the floor to come to rest, unharmed, under the couch.

And her rings bounced too but fell into the fire, landing safely to glint in the firelight at its edge.

* * * * *

“Callum, I really need a moment to speak to you,” Regan pleaded, following her infuriated son down the stairs.

In response, not missing an enraged step, Callum asked, “Where’s Sonia?”

“Callum, hold still a second and –”

Callum did as his mother told him, stilling then swinging around to face her. “I asked you, where the f**k is my f**king queen?”

Regan took one look at him and stepped up and away from him.

Then she straightened her shoulders and stated, “Callum, something’s wrong. I know. I can see it. I felt it yesterday but I need to explain something to you. Something important. Something you must know right now.”

Callum’s hand clenched around the rings he’d found in the fire while he searched for his mate and his mind thrashed with the memories of his wife laughing, talking, joking with his people, all day. Cheering, drinking, eating, clapping, dancing, making them fall in love with her.

But she’d done all of this far away from him.

Far, far away.

She’d ridden silently in the truck beside him as he took her into town but almost the instant they arrived she melted into the crowd.

And they’d accepted her gladly. The day having the feel of two celebrations. One of victory, one at their luck that Callum’s queen was so f**king perfect.

He’d heard it time and again, his people telling him of the widespread talk of her notes to the kin of the fallen. The stories that had gone far and wide of her taking their women into her home and, together, waiting out the battle as she demonstrated strength of will, instilling hope in their females’ hearts. How brilliant they thought it was that she, a human, proudly displayed his chain around her h*ps as she did that day and every day. The chain flaunted boldly outside her cords, his people not knowing it was Callum’s f**king idea in the first f**king place.

And Sonia’s high spirits were evident every moment during the celebration. Clearly up for anything, his Sonia, drinking copious amounts of cider. Tasting every bit of food sold by the vendors. Laughing with abandon. Grabbing handfuls of huge, yellow and gold wolf head-shaped confetti. Throwing it in the air and giggling as it drifted all around her and those close to her, in her hair, their hair, floating to the pavement only for her to grab more and do it again as his wolves watched her worshipfully or joined in. Kneeling low to wrap her arms around pups and hold their wrists safely away as they twirled sparklers, all the while gleaming up at the pups’ parents as they stared down at her dotingly. Linking her arm with Leah’s, their blonde heads, the only blondes in the crowd, bent together as the talked low and giggled with each other. Not as if they’d known each other a day but as if they’d known each other a lifetime while the she-wolves smiled at their camaraderie but the wolves watched them with hungry eyes.