To Rule the Alpha's Heart

18. The Onyx Craven

EINARR FJERSTÄD

Every year that Einarr and his warriors returned to the Onyx Craven Pack after the raids, his people rejoiced.

At the end of the summer raiding season, Einarr and his fiercest warriors always rode the Dothakan River's current through the rock and tree-lined valley. When they neared the heart of the camp, the young pups would begin running along the shoreline, eager to show the Alpha their growth. In wolf and human form alike, Einarr's people greeted him with howls and chants. The three mighty longships anchored at the shore, lurching to a stop where the current lessened. The vessels would be unpacked and taken to an expansive, water-filled cavern for safekeeping before the Frost arrived, but, every year, they celebrated first.

But the Onyx Craven shifters did not yet know that their Alpha had taken a human female as his mate.

Some of Einarr's warriors leapt over the side of their ship, sloshing through the knee-deep water until they reached dry land. Usually, Einarr would join them, but he would not leave his little mate's side. Not when he could practically feel the vibrations of her trembling knees through the wooden planks of the ship.

He turned away from his people and gestured for Calla to come forward. His white-haired mate hesitated by her human servants' sides before slowly inching closer to him. His primal instincts thrummed as the distance between them lessened. He knew that he would regret neglecting to visit their tent last night...

"You will come with me, marana," Einarr instructed, his voice gruffer than he'd intended.

Calla's delicate, pink lips parted, and, for a moment, Einarr thought that she might resist. Instead, she closed her mouth and nodded once, dutiful. He should have been pleased by his mate's subservience. Instead, he only wondered whether Calla had lost her fiery dragon heart...

A long, sturdy plank was lowered from the side of the longship, creating a steep ramp that carried them to shore. With careful steps, Einarr led his human mate into Onyx Craven territory.

When their feet landed on the riverbank's moist soil, a hush fell over the clearing as every member of the Onyx Craven Pack lowered their head in reverence to their Alpha. Pride swelled in Einarr's chest as he beheld the males and females, pups and elders, that relied on him for protection and guidance.

One corner of Einarr's lips curled into a smile, and he announced in the native tongue, "Rise, my people, and bend the knee for your Luna."

A ripple went through the surrounding crowds, low murmurs and whines of confusion. Heads lifted and eyes fell on Calla, who stood half-hidden behind Einarr's shoulder. He stepped aside, drawing Calla forward.

"Come, maraname." He placed a hand on the small of her back, too aware of the stiffness of her spine.

Calla did not smile or frown, but her crystalline blue eyes were hard as her gaze traveled across the expanse of werewolves before her. Tension settled over the clearing, but not a soul bent for their Luna.

Einarr's hands curled into tight fists, eyes scanning his pack for the first sign of discontent. He would break the legs of the first male or female to even glare at Calla with disrespect in their eyes. Then, they would have no choice but to bend for their Luna.

The snouts of his wolven pack members twitched as a breeze passed through the clearing. Good, Einarr thought. Let them smell the human blood that coursed through Calla's veins, mingled with the scent of his claim deep within.

Finally, the first of the wolves lowered their heads, followed by the shifters in their human form. But Einarr sensed the hesitation in their movements– felt their apprehension– and hated it.