“Stop calling me baby doll!” she shrieked.
She barely got out the word “doll” when he bent, put a shoulder to her belly and hefted her up. She kicked out her legs and beat at his back with her fists but he didn’t notice or didn’t care. He strode nonchalantly to the bed and tossed her on it.
Sonia instantly rolled, got up on all fours and started crawling but his hands seized her ankles and he pulled her knees out from under her, dragging her across the bed and rolling her to her back.
She growled and went at him.
In no time at all, he was on top of her and had her wrists pinned over her head.
“We’ll play later, Sonia,” he informed her, his face suddenly serious but it was studiously so, as if he was being serious for her benefit but still found the situation amusing. “Now we’re going to talk.”
Sonia gaped at him, mouth open and everything.
He thought she wanted to play?
He was mad.
“We’ll start with Desdemona,” he announced and she bucked under him but his hands tightened on her wrists and he gave her a warning shake before he demanded, “Pay attention.”
She stilled and glared at him.
“There’s a lot of history with Mona I won’t get into,” he started to explain.
“I gathered that,” Sonia snapped acidly.
He watched her still obviously trying to fight back his humor. “You’ve got nothing to be jealous of, little one.”
“I’m not jealous!” she screeched.
He shook his head, ignored her screech and continued, “Being sequestered is not a bad thing. Your people do it as well when someone is not right and they need help. Mona, as you could tell, is not right.”
“She just has a thing for you,” Sonia retorted.
“Yes, she does but it’s more than that,” he returned smoothly. “She’s in a far better place than she deserves to be. For what she did, or, more to the point didn’t do, she should have been punished. Instead she’s amongst people who will try to help her sort out her head.”
Sonia’s eyes narrowed on him and she asked scornfully, “She should have been punished just because she’s got the hots for you?”
His painstakingly serious expression changed to genuinely serious.
In fact, deadly serious. So deadly, one look at it made Sonia hold her breath.
“No, Sonia,” he stated slowly. “She should have been punished for what her inattention to her responsibilities caused. She should have been punished because what she didn’t do meant hundreds of warriors died. Hundreds on both sides. She should have been punished because what she didn’t do means I’ve spent the last three days writing letters to mates and mothers explaining that their lovers and sons died brave. Died honorably. Even though every word is f**king futile because nothing I say will ease their anguish.”
At his words, and the depth of feeling with which he spoke them, the fight left Sonia. She felt her body relaxing under his as she felt her heart slide into her throat and tears start to prick the backs of her eyes.
He’d been writing a lot. She saw him doing it.
Callum had been handwriting letters to grieving mates and mothers.
She couldn’t imagine writing hundreds of letters like that. She wouldn’t know what to say. The task was so atrocious she couldn’t ever imagine having the strength to bear it.
But Callum did. He did it at the same time he grinned at her or took her to the village or walked with her through the snow, never once letting on that this heavy weight was bearing on his broad shoulders.
For the first time since she met him the burden of his responsibility as king to his people struck her and it felt like she’d been seared by lightning.
It came out of her mouth before she could stop it. It came out softly, gently, even lovingly as the tears welled in her eyes and slid out the sides.
“My handsome wolf.”