To Rule the Alpha's Heart

17. Landfall

CALLA VORONÍN

Calla spent the last night of their journey on the longship's bow, admiring the stretch of black ocean before them. At night, the inky water looked foreboding, almost like it could swallow her whole and never allow her to resurface again.

A shameful, small part of Calla wanted to know what it would feel like to dive into the icy depths. Einarr and the other werewolves were on the opposite side of the ship, still partaking in the supper that Calla had retired from early. She knew that the shifters possessed inhuman speed and strength, but even Einarr would not be able to find her body after she leapt into the foaming darkness.

But she couldn't. Of course she couldn't.

What would happen to Lucia and Iva if she decided to give herself to the ocean? And she'd promised to do everything in her power to free the human slaves that were offered to King Rangvald. She'd promised herself that she would return to Eatrela, only after she'd made Einarr and every Onyx Craven warrior suffer for what they'd done...

Calla couldn't jump. No matter how much she might want to.

In truth, she knew that there were others on Nortend suffering from a far worse fate. She had at least escaped the clutches of the Alpha King.

On the morning after the Mating Feast, the King gave Einarr and the Onyx Craven Pack permission to depart Roandör, but only after claiming that he would visit Einarr's territory in the coming months to further investigate Calla's connection to the Moon Goddess. She could still remember the ominous gleam in King Rangvald's eyes as he kissed her hand in farewell...

They returned to the three longships after that, where Einarr contented himself to captaining their vessels throughout the day. The Alpha paid no mind to Calla during the waking hours, so she contented herself to long conversations with Lucia and Iva about their memories of Eatrela. When Cyril was not attending to Einarr, the blonde translator spent his time beside Calla.

At night, however, Einarr came to her.

Lucia and Iva still shared the ship's cabin, so Calla slept in a tent on the deck, where Einarr joined her long after nightfall. He did not often speak to her when he entered. Most of the time, she was already asleep when he came. He would kneel behind her and gently touch her shoulder to rouse her from sleep. Then, with heavy eyelids, Calla allowed him to take her.

Einarr no longer touched her like he did on the night of their Mating Feast. Instead, it always happened quickly– roughly. Like she was simply another chore that needed to be finished at the end of a long day at sea. Calla hated that she found herself missing the sensual caresses that he'd given to her before their first joining.

Memories of that night flashed through Calla's mind as she gazed into the depthless black ocean. Before she could try to remember the heat that had seared through her veins beneath Einarr's touch, she heard footsteps on the deck behind her. She knew that it was likely Cyril, come to scold her for not eating more of their supper.

"You needn't worry, Cyril. I won't jump." She sighed. "I'll come back in–"

Calla gasped as a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, tugging her backward until she collided with a hard chest. She recognized the scent of salt and musk in an instant. "Einarr!"

"Do you wish that it was Cyril who came to you?" Alpha Einarr half-growled in Calla's ear, and a shiver cascaded down the length of Calla's spine at the threat beneath his words. "Do you desire Cyril of the Andal Cliffs?"

If Calla could see Einarr's piercing gray eyes, she knew that she'd find rage, perhaps even jealousy, swimming in their depths. The anger of a territorial male that felt threatened by another. And yet, his hold on her waist remained gentle.