To Rule the Alpha's Heart

24. Flying

CALLA VORONÍN

Cyril's predictions were correct. According to the hunting reports, the herds were migrating West toward the plains, and the Onyx Craven Pack would follow them.

They spent the next three days preparing for departure. Despite Einarr's initial wishes, Calla spent her time amongst the elders, remaining close to Gudrun's side as the female offered guidance for the start of a very long Winter. The pack would spend a majority of the cold season following the elk herds, never staying in one place longer than a week. It was the duty of the elders to ensure that food provisions were packed on wagons, alongside communal tents and supplies.

Calla, with Lucia and Iva, helped load the wagons. By the end of every day spent preparing for departure, Calla's muscles screamed from the exertion of lifting heavy barrels and baskets. She ate supper beside Gudrun and the elders before retiring to Einarr's tent at dusk. Despite her efforts to stay awake, exhaustion consistently weighed heavy on Calla's eyelids, and she slept long before Einarr arrived.

He did not bother to wake her up...

In fact, after their terse conversation about Calla's plans to return to Eatrela at the end of the year, Einarr seemed content to ignore her throughout the days and nights. Every attempt that Calla made to speak to the male ended in abrupt dismissal. Einarr appeared, apparently, far too busy with preparations for their migration.

Calla tried to convince herself that she did not care about Einarr's blatant disinterest. It was wrong of her to desire his attention, especially after reaffirming her intentions to leave Nortend at the end of the year. How could she blame him for wanting to keep her an arms-length away?

At last, the day of departure arrived. The entire Onyx Craven camp had transformed. Just days ago, a miniature city of tents stood erect on the river bank. Now, only patches of dirt remained where the structures once stood.

After helping to load the last tents onto a wagon, Calla wiped her sweaty palms against her leather skirt and took a step back to view the long line of wagons and carts. A small smile curled on her lips as she admired the product of their hard work. Soon, she would crawl in the back of one of the wagons and rest until they reached their next destination.

Content, Calla turned to search for Cyril, Lucia, and Iva but nearly collided with a solid chest instead. She blinked and took a quick step backward, and her heart somersaulted at the pair of stone gray eyes that stared back at her.

"Einarr," she half-gasped his name.

After he'd been avoiding her gaze for the last three days, Calla's stomach somersaulted at the pair of stone gray eyes staring back at her. As usual, Einarr only wore a pair of low-hanging trousers, displaying ridge after ridge of muscle on his abdomen. In her days with the Onyx Craven, she'd learned that most shifters preferred to wear minimal clothing to facilitate their transformation.

"You'll stay with me as we travel west, Calla," he instructed, wasting no time in pleasantries.

Her name sounded cold on Einarr's lips, so unlike when he called her marana or drekihjar. She never thought that she would long to hear those affection-laced words from his mouth...

Calla swallowed the thickness in her throat. "Cyril said that I would only slow the pack's progress unless I rode in the wagons."

A muscle in Einarr's jaw twitched.

"I'll not have my Luna riding in a wagon like cargo," he growled, his voice dangerously low. "Even if she chooses to degrade herself by working like a servant."

Calla flinched. His blatant disapproval of her service to the pack stung, but she knew better than to revisit that conversation. She swallowed and tilted her chin up to meet his hard gaze.