To Rule the Alpha's Heart

35. A Vision of Death

CALLA VORONÍN

Einarr gave Calla a proper tour of the city surrounding the Salt Caves on their walk to the holy site. They wove amongst the camps and streets of merchants with ease, every shifter recognizing the infamous Onyx Craven Alpha and his mate.

He guided her past stalls of spiced meats, old women selling intricately woven clothing, and perfumes that smelt like Eatrela. At one point, Einarr brought Calla to a stall that smelt sweet as honey, but his lips brushed her earlobe as he warned her not to breathe too deep. Apparently, the merchant sold incense that could supposedly cause someone to fall into a deep sleep if inhaled directly. Calla wanted to explore the markets and camps longer, but the promise of the Salt Caves overshadowed her every thought.

Her heart flipped in her chest when they arrived at the base of the mountain, where a daunting, jagged cave mouth waited. Torches lined the cave's opening, illuminating the depictions of glyphs and drawings on the rock walls. The faint sound of wind whistling in the depths of the caverns below whispered of the Salt Caves' ancient power.

A chill cascaded down the length of Calla's spine. Without tearing her eyes from the cavern's interior, she whispered, "It feels alive."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Einarr nod. He placed a gentle hand on the small of her back. "Every alpha must journey to the Salt Caves after taking control of a pack. To pray for good hunts and prosperous raids."

"When did you last visit the caves?" Calla wondered, glancing sideways at her mate.

"Almost half of my lifetime ago," he answered, gray eyes scanning the mystery of the cave's interior. "When I challenged the previous Onyx Craven Alpha on my sixteenth year."

Sixteen. Einarr assumed control of the Onyx Craven Pack at only sixteen years old. Calla couldn't imagine a younger Einarr – a boy on the cusp of manhood, fighting to the death for the sake of power. She hoped that their own children would never be forced to engage in a similar battle...

Calla leaned back into Einarr's touch, and his stone-colored eyes flickered to meet her. "Did the Moon Goddess speak to you, then?"

He huffed a small chuckle and shook his head. "The Moon Goddess does not speak to me as she speaks to you, maraname. She listens."

Calla smiled and stood on her toes to press a tender kiss to Einarr's bearded cheek. When she stepped back, she admired the orange glow of torchlight that danced on his tanned skin for a moment. Finally, she murmured, "I think I should speak to her alone, my heart."

Something like momentary reluctance flashed in his eyes, but Einarr slowly nodded and stepped back. "I will wait here. Walk straight into the cave until you reach a clear pool. Stay as long as you need."

She offered him another smile before turning back to the cave's entrance. Taking a deep breath, she rolled her shoulders back and took her first step into the mountain. Then another and another. She didn't look back at Einarr – didn't want to distract herself from the thrum within the mountain's walls, guiding her forward.

She wondered if all who visit the Salt Caves feel a similar pull to its depths, or was the Moon Goddess drawing her closer because of her Seer gifts? Would her mother or the generations of Seers before feel similarly? Calla couldn't say, but she knew she'd never felt so enraptured by a holy site dedicated to the Seven Gods of Eatrela. Perhaps it was never Calla's duty to serve the Seven. Perhaps, from the moment that fate wove Calla's life together with Einarr's, she became the Moon Goddess' servant...

Just as Einarr instructed, Calla continued onward until the cave's opening disappeared behind her, and she was surrounded by stone walls and white stalactites of salt, looming above her head like jagged spears. Her lips parted in wonder at the soft pink hue that the torches cast on the shimmering pillars of salt. Beautiful.