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 f**ked 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 f**ked 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.
And, obviously, he wasn’t very good at it.
He was now king but he’d always been a prince. No one questioned him. Only a scarce few, all blood and all in his inner circle, talked back. People followed his orders and understood his position and he expected this, was entitled to it.
But Sonia didn’t know that.
Any of it.
In her world, men asked women on dates. They went to dinners, movies, got to know each other through conversations.
With female humans, if he wanted them, Callum might buy them a drink then he’d find an opportunity to kiss them and that was all he had to do, always all he had to do. Then he’d take them to bed.
With female wolves, he never bothered with the drink.
And he’d been wrong about her.
She was fiery and spirited and whatever led her to lead her colorless life was lost here in this cabin.
Sonia, his mate, the woman fate had bound him to woke in his bed this morning.
Then she’d become naturally confused to be where she was, and with a stranger no less, after what had happened to her last night.
Then he’d freaked her out. She’d retreated into her shell. He’d foolishly lamented his fate but only to find she came out of that shell blazing and he had more fire and spirit than he knew what to do with.
His only excuse for tonight’s behavior was watching her endure the torture of her injection and he wasn’t even thinking about her need to take the injection in the first f**king place.
How she could do that every night of her life was a mystery.