To Rule the Alpha's Heart

36. Lying and War

CALLA VORONÍN

When Calla recovered her strength after her vision, she made the long walk to reunite with Einarr at the mouth of the Salt Caves. Just as he promised, he waited patiently at the entrance. Warmth seeped into Calla's wary bones at the sight of his gray eyes, gentle and inviting, guiding her home.

As soon she could, Calla wrapped her arms around his toned abdomen, folding into his comforting embrace.

"Drekhijar?" Concern laced Einarr's words, even as he welcomed her back into his arms with a chaste kiss to the top of her head. "You look unwell.."

Calla buried her face in the little crevice between his chest muscles, briefly shaking her head to silently dismiss his concern. She imagined that she looked like hell. Every part of her body felt cold, as if the vision had drained the warmth from her blood. She wanted to sleep. Wanted to dream a new vision to replace the horrifying images of a burning, dying Berlynne that still flashed through her head.

"Did something happen? Your vision?" Einarr prompted, trying to peel away from Calla to gain a better view of her face.

She kept her head pressed against his chest, inches from where his heart thudded strong in its cage, grounding her to reality.

The Moon Goddess' vision was false. Calla would not return to Berlynne. She would not leave her heart's mate. Einarr would protect her.

"I am tired, marano," Calla whispered, inhaling his musk and pine scent.

"We will return to camp," Einarr promised, and, with startling ease, he bent to scoop her weak body into his arms, cradling her like a child. "Rest, maraname. We will speak later."

Einarr carried her like that throughout the city of tents until they reached the Onyx Craven once more. Calla felt the eyes of the pack members following her, but she kept her head nestled in the crook of Einarr's neck. She focused on the steady rock of his footsteps and the little pulse fluttering where his neck and shoulders meet.

"Calla?" She heard Lucia's worried voice from somewhere across camp, but Einarr turned away from the crowds and carried her directly to their tent. Good. She did not want to answer anyone else's questions at the moment.

Warmth from a simmering brazier seeped over Calla's body as soon as Einarr passed their tent's threshold, and she released a deep breath that she didn't realize she held. Einarr placed her on their sleeping mat before lowering his own large body to the furs, immediately drawing Calla against his chest once more.

She would've been content to lie there, her head resting above Einarr's heart, until sleep overtook her, but Einarr's deep voice interrupted her peace. "Tell me what has troubled you, Calla," he instructed, gentle yet firm.

Calla swallowed, lifting her head to better gaze upon her dark-haired mate. His eyes were unyielding, demanding an answer. She shook her head. "I do not want to cause you any alarm..."

Einarr frowned at her non-answer, eyes narrowing. "You should not bear the weight of your visions alone," he persisted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Speak to me."

Calla sucked in a deep breath and chewed on her bottom lip. She promised Cyril that she would refrain from speaking of her visions for her own protection, but surely no harm could come from admitting the truth to Einarr?

"I saw King Rangvald," she admitted after a long moment.

As soon as the Alpha King's name left Calla's lips, Einarr's eyes hardened. His dark brows furrowed, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. "And?"