To Rule the Alpha's Heart

21. A Seer of Eatrela

CALLA VORONÍN

Einarr left shortly after issuing the last warning.

He lifted Calla from the floor, placed her on the edge of the bed, and instructed her to rest. With one last, lingering caress to her still-flushed cheek, he exited the tent.

Calla wasn't alone for long.

Lucia's jovial, high-pitched voice called her name from the tent's opening. "Calla! Cyril fetched me and Iva. May we come in?"

Upon hearing the fourteen year old's request, Calla scrambled to ensure that the spoiled chemise properly covered her before answering. "Yes, come in, please."

Little Lucia and Iva stepped into Einarr's tent. They both wore oversized, unappealing frocks that closely resembled the one that Calla had been given. A part of her was pleased that Einarr had ripped the ugly material during their ravenous encounter...

"How did you both sleep?" Calla asked.

"Quite well," Lucia replied, tossing a sideways glance at Iva. "Our tent is private, and the fur blankets are quite warm."

"Did any of the shifters disrupt you?" Calla further probed, shifting on the mattress to minimize the new soreness between her legs.

Iva eyed her carefully with a cocked brow, concern clouding her soft gray orbs. The mute woman undoubtedly knew what had transpired in the tent prior to their arrival, and Calla felt her cheeks flame. She didn't want Iva to realize how weak Einarr made her. Fortunately, Lucia seemed to remain ignorant.

The girl shook her head, hopping atop the bed beside Calla. "Not at all. In fact, none of the shifters seem to notice us. They don't even look in our direction!"

Calla tried to muster a smile to match Lucia's, but something like unease festered in her chest. "Well... I suppose that is a good thing."

"We were worried about you last night," Lucia continued, her lips pulling into a thin line. A quick glance at Iva told Calla that the older woman was still worried. "Cyril, too. He kept guard outside your tent all night."

Calla blinked. "He did?"

A short nod. "After you dismissed us from the tent, we found him. Told him that the Alpha seemed angry. He took us to our own dwelling, then returned here."

"I–I didn't know," Calla murmured, glancing toward the tent's entrance. "Has he been outside all morning, as well?"

Lucia shrugged, and a small wave of relief flooded over Calla. She prayed that Cyril had retired to his own tent sometime before the sun rose. She'd certainly die of shame if the human translator had been guarding her tent when Einarr visited that morning...

"Lucia, will you go out to find Cyril and ask him to bring me a new frock? My dress..." Calla paused, her eyes flickering to the ripped bundle of coarse fabric on the floor. Einarr had ruined the dress, tearing at the fabric from the hem to the neckline.

"It tore," Calla finished. She'd leave it at that.

The innocent Lucia simply nodded her head, sliding off of the mattress and bounding toward the entrance. This time, Calla's smile was genuine as she watched the young girl disappear through the folds to find their human protector amongst the savages. She envied Lucia's ignorant bliss.

When Calla was certain that Lucia was gone, she turned to Iva. The middle-aged woman stood several paces away, her hands placed on her full hips. Her thin eyebrows were drawn together, and the discerning stare reminded Calla of her mother.