With Everything I Am Page 9

  Before Sonia could say a word, Callum squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

  Then he and Waring walked out the door.

  Sonia stared at the door and she did this for a while.

  Then she asked it, “What just happened?”

  The door didn’t feel like sharing its secrets.

  She and a sharp knife were in the kitchen wrestling with the tape on her medication when Callum came back, again carrying the clothes.

  Sonia stopped dead, package in hand, knife point inserted in a miniscule area not taped where she hoped it might find purchase and watched as Callum walked to the closet, threw in the boots then walked to the bathroom and came out without the clothes.

  He moved into the kitchen, stopped close to her, leaned a hip against the counter, reached out and pulled the knife from her frozen hand and set it aside. Then he took the package out of her hands.

  Coming out of her stupor, Sonia asked, “Is it later?”

  His eyes never leaving her, he brought the package up to his mouth and with his even, white teeth, he tore open a section of the tape. Then he ripped off the rest of the packaging, held both boxes in his hands and gazed at them.

  Finally, his head came up. “You need to take this now?”

  “I asked if it’s later,” she repeated.

  “And I asked if my mate needs the medication that will stop her from dying an agonizing death,” Callum returned calmly. “As you can see, my question has priority.”

  It was time for her to take her medication though she could wait. Any time in the late evening was okay.

  She’d rather have a few answers.

  She looked at him, saw the set of his face and gave in.

  “I could take it.”

  “Let’s go,” he said and started to the bathroom.

  Did he say “let’s go”?

  Let’s go?

  Sonia stood stock-still.

  Callum turned back. “Sonia.”

  “Give me the meds. I’ll –”

  He cut her off by saying, “You’re going to teach me how to give it to you.”

  She stayed stock-still but her mouth dropped open.

  Then she said, “No, I’m not.”

  To which he replied, “Yes, you are.”

  “No, I –”

  “Sonia, come here.”

  “But, you –”

  “Come here or I’ll come get you.”

  Her voice grew shrill. “I can’t believe you think –”

  He started toward her. She started retreating.

  In seconds, she was flung over his shoulder and in a few more seconds she was set on her feet in the bathroom.

  She barely got her body under her control before his torso twisted and he closed and locked the door while she stared at him in irritated horror.

  Then he twisted back and demanded, “Now, show me what to do.”

  She made a snatch for the boxes but he yanked them away and he was far taller and had the arm span of a giant, drat the man!

  “I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself,” she snapped.

  “What if you’re not?” he asked.

  “What do you mean, what if I’m not? I’ve been doing it every day since I was eleven. I am capable of doing it,” she retorted.

  He bent at the waist to get closer and it took everything she had not to lean back.

  “What if you’re not?” he repeated. “What if there comes a time where you can’t give it to yourself? You have flu and you’re delirious. As your mate, I need to know how to take care of you.”

  Really?

  Did he seriously think she was his mate?

  She’d known him a day!

  And it was the weirdest, scariest day of her life!

  He was… crazy… as a… loon!

  “You aren’t my mate,” she snapped.

  “Sonia, I am.”

  “You are not.”

  He straightened and looked to the ceiling before muttering, “Bloody hell.”

  “You can say that again,” she huffed, crossing her arms on her chest.

  He dipped his chin down to look at her. “Just show me how to give you the fucking injection.”

  “No!”

  “Show me!” he barked right in her face.

  This was one of those times that set her teeth on edge and made her want to scratch his eyes out.

  Sonia did not do that.

  Instead, she said, “Give me the boxes.”

  “Goddamn it, Sonia –” he started but she interrupted him.

  “You want me to show you? Then give me the boxes so I can gosh darn show you!” she snapped.

  He scowled at her a moment before he handed her the boxes.

  Then with extreme ill-grace, Sonia showed him how to load the needle and with even more extreme embarrassment, she turned, undid her belt and cords and pulled her pants down to expose her upper right buttock.

  “Just jab it in and press,” she bit out angrily. “The faster the bet –”

  She stopped talking when she felt the heat of his fingers grazing her bare skin. She jerked up and whirled.

  “Callum, just jab –” she started but he set the injection aside, grasped her hips and turned her. “Callum,” she said, twisting her head to look at him then snapped, “Callum!” when his thumb hooked in her pants and pulled them a few inches down over her hip while his other hand held her firm.

  “Baby doll,” he murmured as his thumb slid along her skin.

  “What are you doing?” she tried to snap but it came out breathy.

  His thumb stroked back, softly, even tenderly.

  Then his eyes came to hers. “You look like a fucking pin cushion.”

  Her body grew tight and she looked away.

  “That happens when you have to take an injection every night,” she informed him. “Now if you’d just –”

  His hands at her hips became arms around her belly and he pulled her into his big, hard body.

  “I don’t like this,” he said into the hair on top of her head.

  He didn’t like it? He should try being her.

  “I don’t like it either,” she replied. “It’s not fun. That’s why it’s better just to do it fast and get it over with.”

  For a moment, he was silent. Then he sighed.

  Then, without letting her go, he reached out with one hand to nab the injection.

  “Pull down your cords for me,” he ordered gently.

  She did as she was told and without delay, she felt the jab.

  Then she felt the burn.

  Her arm flew out and her fingers curled around the basin while she sucked in breath, closed her eyes and fought the pain.

  When it burned out, she found herself wrapped tight in his arms, tucked in his body with his face buried in her neck.

  His warm embrace unsettled her.

  Because it felt good.

  She’d always battled the pain alone. It only lasted a minute or two but it still hurt.

  She’d never had anyone, not anyone, help her battle the pain. Not since her Momma and Papa, who held her close after giving her the injection. Gregor was not a “holding close” type of guy.

  It also surprised her.

  Callum was a pretty domineering man though he’d also shown moments of tenderness.

  But nothing like this.

  Her fingers curled around his forearms, “Callum.”

  “It hurts.” It was a statement.

  “Yes.”

  “It looked bad.”

  “It’s excruciating.”

  His arms tightened further.

  “Callum, it’s okay. I’m used to it.”

  “There’s no other way?”

  She shook her head.

  His face shoved deeper into her neck before he whispered, “Baby doll.”

  Before she could say anything else, he’d done up her cords and belt then she was cradled in his arms and they were out of the bathroom, Callum striding to the liv
ing room.

  He laid her on the couch and didn’t hesitate in joining her, stretching out and pinning her between his big body and the back of the couch.

  She looked at him and announced, “I’d like some tea.”

  “I’ll get you some in a minute. Tell me about your thing.”

  “What thing?”

  “Your blood thing.”

  She pulled in breath.

  He was being way too nice. And way too concerned. And way too sweet.

  And it was messing with her head.

  Then she thought it best to give him what he wanted. It’d be over sooner that way.

  “I don’t know much about it, no one does. It’s that rare. I’ve lived with it my whole life. There’s one treatment, the injection. I know that because I’ve talked to my doctor about alternatives but there are none.”

  “Are they researching it?” Callum asked.

  “No, like I said, it’s rare. I’m lucky there’s even a treatment.”

  His voice was soft when he said, “Honey, what I saw in there, that isn’t luck.”

  There it was.

  Too nice. Too concerned.

  Way too sweet.

  She tried to be nonchalant about it. “Trust me, Callum, if I don’t take the treatment, it’s that times about ten thousand,” she informed him. “I tried it once, went off the meds for two days, I thought I was boiling alive.”

  “Jesus,” he muttered on a wince.

  She stared.

  He was feeling this.

  Deeply.

  Which made Sonia feel something deeply too.

  Something insane.

  A strong pull toward him to soothe and comfort.

  Before she could stop herself, she pressed closer and assured, “Callum, it’s okay. I’m used to it.” She gave him a teasing grin. “I think it was probably good I had my teenage rebellion against the injection. I learned, quickly, it’s better than the alternative.”

  His eyes bored into hers and he replied, “I’m not finding this amusing.”

  Yes, he was feeling this.

  And yes, it was deeply.

  She didn’t know what to do with that. It made her forget he was a madman and think he might be her dream man.

  Her handsome wolf.

  Which had to be why she couldn’t fight that odd pull.

  And this had to be why her grin faded, she pressed even closer and her voice went soft when she said, “That’s because it’s not amusing. But it’s two minutes of pain every day. At least there’s something that helps, even if it’s an awful something. It could be far worse.”

  His arms around her got tight and one hand drifted up her back into her hair to tuck her face in his neck.

  Then he said, “I’m giving you the injection every night.”

  Sonia’s body jolted and her head jerked back. “What?”

  He tipped his chin down to look at her. “You heard me.”

  “Okay then, why?”

  “You shouldn’t do that alone.”

  “I’ve been doing it alone for twenty-six years,” she pointed out.

  “Yes, and that stops now.”

  “Why?” she cried.

  “You didn’t see you.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means you’re not doing it alone,” he stated implacably.

  “This is ridiculous!” she snapped, trying to push away only for him to pull her back, this time even closer.

  “You could barely stay standing,” he told her, head still tipped down but his eyes had gone tawny.

  Well, she learned something. His eyes went gold for a lot of reasons, including anger.

  Good to know.

  In the face of his anger, she still retorted, “I’ll repeat, I’ve been doing this for twenty-six years.”

  “And I’ll repeat, you’re not doing it alone any longer. I’m giving you the fucking injection.”

  Sonia glared.

  Callum scowled.

  His scowl, she reckoned, was a lot better than her glare.

  She reckoned this because he didn’t back down, she did.

  “You know,” she started tartly, “for a brief second there I thought you were nice, even sweet. You’re not. You’re a big, bossy jerk.”

  His face began to soften and she saw the blue start to seep back into the gold of his irises before he started, “Sonia –”

  She cut him off and shoved at his chest (to no avail) before demanding, “Can I have tea now?”

  Callum sighed the sigh of a man beleaguered, which irritated her even more.

  He hadn’t been kidnapped. He hadn’t been bossed around. He hadn’t been forced to receive an injection from some woman he barely knew.

  Why he sounded beleaguered she’d never know!

  He cut into her thoughts. “I’ll get you some tea then we’re talking about what happened earlier when Waring was here.”

  She pushed up and managed to get on an elbow. “Don’t do me any favors, wolf, I’ll get my own tea and I don’t want to talk about –”

  She stopped speaking because all of a sudden she wasn’t on an elbow.

  She was flat on her back and most of his weight was pinning her to the couch.

  And, it should be noted, the tawny had beaten back the blue in his eyes and his face was so far away from soft, it wasn’t funny.

  “Callum –”

  “You call me ‘wolf’ when you want me near you, when you want me to hold you and when you want me to fuck you. You don’t call me ‘wolf’ when you’re pissed at me, is that understood?”

  Sonia didn’t know what came over her, she’d never felt anything like it before.

  Further, it wasn’t smart. It wasn’t cautious. It wasn’t treading carefully with a kidnapping madman.

  But she also didn’t care.

  In the face of what appeared to be his rage, she didn’t back down. No matter that he was way bigger and way, way stronger than she. No matter that he told her he’d executed two men last night because they’d touched her.

  She was just that tired of this whole situation.

  “Let me see if I’ve got this right,” she snapped back. “You’ve told me what to eat. You’ve made me be somewhere I don’t want to be. Now, you’re telling me what to say?”

  “You got it right,” he ground out.

  “Oh, you’re right I got it right,” she bit out then yelled. “You are a big, bossy jerk!”

  His eyes narrowed and he clipped, “I asked, is that understood?”

  “I speak English, Callum, it’s understood,” she retorted. “I also heard you say I could use that word when I wanted you near me, when I wanted you to hold me and when I wanted you to fuck me so don’t hold your breath because you’ll never hear me call you ‘wolf’ again!”

  She was panting when she was finished, her chest rising and falling with her breaths.

  His voice dipped lower just as his face dipped to hers when he warned, “I’ve a mind to test that threat.”

  Her breathing escalated, as did her pulse, but she still invited, “Have at it. Let’s see if you can make today a grand slam in demonstrating all the ways to make your supposed mate hate you!”

  He scowled at her.

  She glared at him.

  And she felt no triumph whatsoever when he broke the staring contest, did a push up, knifed away from her getting to his feet but leaned low over her. “I’m getting you tea. You move from that couch, Sonia, this farce ends now.”

  Her breath stopped.

  There it was.

  “What farce?” she whispered.

  He stayed leaned over her but threw out an arm and answered, “This one. Me giving you this ludicrous courtship. Waring called you queen and bowed to you out of deference to me and who you’ll become. You defy me again, I’ll take you to that bed and make you my queen right… fucking… now.”

  “Wh… what?” Sonia stammered in confusion (and, a great deal of fear) as she lifted up on an elbow.


  “My people don’t need ceremonies and rituals even though we have them. But if I fuck you and claim you, the deed is done. You’re bound to me. That’s all there is for my culture that makes one bit of difference. I fuck you, you’re officially my queen.”

  “You’re… you’re… courting me?” she whispered.

  “Did you hear a word I said this morning?”

  She thought she heard all of them.

  With a swift movement, he straightened and tore his fingers through his hair, leaving his hand at his neck before looking up to the ceiling and asking, “Who would fucking believe I’d rather be on a battlefield?”

  Sonia wouldn’t believe it.

  At that moment, Sonia didn’t believe anything.

  Except the heartbreaking fact that he was crazy as a loon.

  His head tipped down and he scowled at her. “Now stay there, don’t move and I’ll bring you your goddamned tea.”

  Then he stalked away and she did what she was told.

  She had no earthly idea what was going on and she was getting more confused by the minute.

  What she did know, considering the consequences, was that she wasn’t going to move from the couch.

  Also, she was never going to call him “wolf” ever again.

  Lastly, because of that, she would always hate him, always.

  And she would hate him because he forever took her beloved, handsome wolf away.

  * * * * *

  Callum fucked up.

  He knew it and he could kick himself for it.

  He’d lost his patience and his formidable temper and further, and most regrettably, forgotten that Sonia had no idea what was going on.

  He’d told her some of it but she couldn’t possibly understand his mind was on a plot hatched to abduct her, debase her and maybe even murder her. A plot which meant his people were at war, people he was responsible for and a war he had to win.

  He’d had her a day.

  Only a day.

  For over well over three hundred years, he knew he’d find his mate and be bound to her. He’d always hoped she wouldn’t be his queen which would mean his father’s death but, like every wolf, he anticipated with great relish finding his mate.

  Now he had her not even twenty-four hours and he’d fucked it up with her.

  Ryon had warned him, even so far as pleaded with him, that he needed to be gentle and tolerant with Sonia.

  It wasn’t simply that Callum didn’t have time for this ridiculousness (which he didn’t). Callum didn’t date. He didn’t court. He seized. Even if his mate wasn’t under threat and his people weren’t at war, he had little patience for courting and furthermore didn’t like it.