He should have felt contentment but these were his worst times. In the dark, Sonia near, her body relaxed in his arms. These were the times he knew he’d miss most when she was gone.
He didn’t seethe against her aging, the onset of wrinkles, her gorgeous hair turning gray.
He seethed against the knowledge that one day, she’d be gone.
As with every night since the claiming, King Callum fell asleep with his queen forced to come to uneasy terms with this vile knowledge of his future.
Chapter Fourteen
Christmas
Sonia’s body was trapped between the back of the far more comfortable couch in her upstairs television room and the length of Callum’s frame. Her head was resting on his chest. Her arm was draped around his stomach. Her gaze was on the television.
In this position, late Christmas Eve, King Callum watched the movie White Christmas for the first time.
The detritus of their feeding frenzy was on the table in front of them, something, to his surprise, which was Sonia’s idea.
One of the things she had made no bones about since they met was her dislike of the wolf diet. But that morning when he’d asked how she traditionally spent her Christmas Eve and Christmas day, she’d told him in a tentative, almost, to his surprise (and foreboding) shy way, that both days were the only days of the calendar year where she ate what she wanted, how much she wanted and didn’t worry about it.
Callum hid the displeasure he felt at these words, a displeasure he felt for three reasons.
First, she’d been shy in relating this information to him. Why Sonia would be shy, considering they were lifemates, she’d been claimed, she spent most of her days in his lap and all of her nights full of his cock, he couldn’t imagine.
Second, because her shyness made him realize that he’d never bothered to ask her anything about herself, her likes, dislikes, what she enjoyed doing, what she did not. So, he supposed, it wasn’t unusual that she would be shy because she was being asked to share about herself which was new to her. At least doing it with him was.
She needed to fit into his life, this was true. But she was also an important part of his. He’d had a lot on his mind but, regardless if it was inadvertent, the extent of his callousness shook him. Further, he wondered, as Ryon suggested, if under the surface of Sonia’s acceptance of her fate, something else lurked.
Last, because she so rigidly controlled her eating which was one of his most disliked human traits and one he would be fully breaking her of after the holidays.
Wolves didn’t count calories and they were not obsessively tidy as Sonia also was. Contradictory to humans, even though a wolf’s life could last eternity, they didn’t squander them on trivial things. They lived them to their fullest, every day enjoying what life had to offer and never sweating the small stuff.
While in bed that morning, her eyes riveted to his chest, her fingers absentmindedly sifting through the dark hair there, she’d explained (while he hid his displeasure, and, later, unrest) that Christmas Eve, she relaxed, read a book, watched movies and ate whatever she wanted. Christmas morning, she opened her presents which she kept for some reason she didn’t share under her upstairs tree. Then she went to Gregor’s in the afternoon and had a late afternoon dinner with him and Yuri before she came home.
This news was, Callum thought, somehow gloomy. Although she related it in a way that seemed straightforward, it didn’t change the fact that most of her beloved holiday she spent alone and none of it, to his way of thinking, sounded very much fun.
This was also not the way of the wolf, not ever, but definitely not on Christmas.
And Callum determined, watching her eyes follow her fingers, even if his queen was used to her lonely Christmases, she’d have them that way no longer.
From that day on, they would be vastly different.
And Callum set about making that so.
When she was finished talking, he’d turned to her and made love to her. He’d done it slowly, taking his time, building the hunger and when her moans slid back to whimpers, he sated it. After, still wrapped in her limbs, their bodies connected, he took the time he rarely took (because he rarely had it) to coddle her. His hands drifting idly on her skin. His nose taking in the scent of her. His lips trailing her neck, her ear, her face and, as he did so, her limbs tightened around him protectively, lovingly and he growled his approval against her skin.
After they got out of bed, she made breakfast for them and they showered. When she was dressing and doing whatever else it was she did while preparing for her day, he placed calls, making arrangements and seeking information.
When she came down the stairs dressed in a long sleeve t-shirt and jeans, he sent her back up to dress warmer.
Without a peep, she did as she was told.
Then he took her to a sporting goods store and bought what they needed.
Then he took her sledding.
She’d been shocked through this, to the point she didn’t speak.
But once they hit the crowded, public sledding hill and she was amongst the children and parents with their own sleighs, she’d thrown herself into it with abandon.