To Rule the Alpha's Heart

37. A Final Bargain

CYRIL OF THE ANDAL CLIFFS

Cyril watched from the other side of camp as Calla sat down amongst the Onyx Craven mothers again. The females greeted their Luna with smiles, and several of the young ran up to her with open arms. Like she'd always lived among them. The Luna of the Onyx Craven.

Calla had done so well. She'd created a life for herself here – a life surrounded by the animals that she'd once hated and sworn to escape from. Cyril knew well enough that Calla had no intention of leaving Einarr anymore. He could see it in her eyes, as clear as when she declared that she would not leave the male's side.

Even though it would kill her.

Staying in Nortend – even with Einarr's protection – put Calla at extreme risk. Of course, Cyril had been wary since the night of Calla and Einarr's mating ceremony, when he saw the envy lining King Rangvald's depthless eyes. His wariness turned to fear, however, on the night when Calla predicted the challenger. The first night that any shifters saw the true power of a Seer.

Every soul in the Onyx Craven Pack knew of Calla's gifts. Even worse, one of the challenger's companions, the male who fled upon seeing Einarr's rage, escaped. Although the male could not have known that Calla predicted their attack, he undoubtedly carried stories of that night to every territory he passed through. Soon, all of Nortend would know that, somehow, the Onyx Craven knew about the challenger's attack. They'd been warned.

And, now, despite his countless warnings and pleading, Calla had her heart set on announcing her Seer gifts to all of Nortend. She'd do it by a declaration of war, no less.

Cyril felt sick.

He watched for several more moments as Calla settled around the campfire. She threw her head back and laughed at something Lucia said, her moon-white locks tumbling down her back with the movement. A child scrambled into her arms, eager to take his spot on the lap of the pack's Luna. Calla looked so happy...

Cyril ripped his gaze from Calla and the females and turned on his heel to exit the Onyx Craven camp. He needed to find Einarr.

He hadn't lied to Calla. He vowed to remain by her side, and he would. But he also meant what he said when he told her that he'd do anything to keep her safe. Even if she'd hate him. Even if she couldn't understand.

Cyril stalked through the dirt streets, weaving throughout the tents and merchants with ease. His eyes never strayed from the base of the Salt Caves, where he could just make out the slanted roof of the Alpha's Dome. Where Einarr had called his war council.

Several guards eyed Cyril warily as he approached the domed tent, but they seemed to recognize him as the human male that accompanied Einarr's mate when she'd marched into their sacred meeting space mere days ago. He glared at the hulking shifters until the beasts slowly stepped aside, offering Cyril full access to the tent. They undoubtedly wanted to avoid another incident with the Onyx Craven Alpha's spitfire mate. If only they knew that Calla would likely have Cyril's head if she knew what he was doing.

He paused at the tent's opening, stilling long enough to hear the conversation taking place within the dome. Several male voices spoke in the Nortend tongue, their tones brusque and dismissive.

"Your mate dreamed of war and now you wish to challenge the Alpha King?" an unknown male drawled, likely an alpha.

"Not a dream," Einarr growled, undoubtedly losing his patience. "A vision of the future."

"You've mated with a human witch?" another voice huffed, unimpressed.

"A Seer," a new male insisted. Cyril recognized Arkan's familiar tenor. "She has successfully predicted the future before. Warned our pack of a challenger."