“It wasn’t that bad?” Callum asked in a dangerous voice.
“Well…” she drew out the word as her eyes grew wider upon looking at his face.
Then, astutely, she shut her mouth.
“What happened?” Gregor queried on a barely there snap.
“Her blood heated and she was in extreme pain. She couldn’t even endure touch,” Callum informed the vampire and Gregor’s eyes went to Sonia.
In an openly paternal voice denoting barely controlled patience, he said, “As I’ve explained time and again, my dear, you must not miss an injection.”
“I didn’t,” Sonia replied, Gregor’s eyes narrowed and Callum watched him closely.
“That’s impossible,” Gregor noted. “The doctor assured me that, as long as you take the injection, you’ll feel no physical manifestation of the disease.”
“It’s not impossible because it happened last night,” Callum put in and Gregor’s mouth got hard.
“I’ll be having a word with Dr. Mortenson then. This won’t do,” Gregor snapped. Definitely snapped, his patience was strained beyond his capacity to control it and his anger was palpable.
Both of which, coming from Gregor, were surprising responses.
He either cared about Sonia, Callum thought, and cared a great deal or he was angry that whatever he was injecting her with wasn’t working or side effects had developed that would make Sonia, and Callum, question the treatment.
“The doctor has ordered blood work which Sonia and I are going to the hospital to see to shortly,” Callum announced and then he turned to Ryon. “From this point on, anyone who’s assigned to Sonia will have advanced medical training. We won’t tell them why but they’ll need to be able to administer an injection.” His eyes moved around the table and he went on, “And everyone at this table will learn how to do it.” He looked at Sonia. “And you’ll carry your medication with you at all times and, if you need it, you’ll tell whoever is with you where to find it and that they should give it to you.” She opened her mouth to speak but Callum looked to Ryon and finished, “And I want a supply available everywhere we might possibly go.”
“Callum really,” Sonia called his attention to her. “Isn’t that going a little overboard?”
“I just witnessed it,” he retorted. “You experienced it and you can ask me that?”
“But –” she started.
“You’ll not endure that again,” he proclaimed, thinking, as he was king and when he proclaimed something people tended to listen (always), that was the end of it.
This was Sonia so he thought wrong.
“But –” she repeated.
“Little one –” he began.
“Seriously, Callum, it’s not –”
“Sonia,” Callum stated firmly, “we’re not discussing it.”
She glared at him mutinously and she did this for a while.
Then her glare softened and she gazed at him again like she was trying to believe he was real.
Then her eyes changed slowly and, he wasn’t certain because he didn’t fucking well understand it, but it looked in their depths like the light of hope shined.
Finally, she emitted one of her fluttering sighs and relaxed against him.
“All right, wolf,” she whispered quietly, her eyes never leaving his.
At her sweet endearment, he wanted to kiss her.
Hell, he wanted to swipe the remains of breakfast off the table and fuck her until she said it again and again.
As he couldn’t do that for obvious reasons, instead, he told her, “You can be a pain in the ass sometimes, baby doll.”
She pressed her lips together but she still couldn’t hide her smile.
When he looked at the table he noticed immediately that all the wolves were also smiling.
However, both the vampires looked worried and they didn’t hide it.
Callum rose from his seat, lifting Sonia to her feet as he did so.
With his arm around her shoulders he announced, “We’ll be back shortly and resume Christmas.”
Then he and his queen put on their boots and coats and Callum drove his pretty, little wife to the hospital to have her blood drawn.
* * * * *
Sonia in his arms in their bedroom tipped her head back to look up at him.
“What did you want to talk about?” she asked.
It was early evening. They’d returned from the hospital. Sonia had helped Regan prepare the enormous Christmas banquet which was all wolf. It consisted of a prime roast of beef cooked rare, sliced potatoes baked in milk, cream, garlic and layered with cheese, thick, meaty gravy, Yorkshire pudding and green beans tossed in butter and bits of crisp bacon. It was finished with Regan’s special trifle which had more custard, more cream, less jam and more cake than any trifle Callum had eaten.