To Rule the Alpha's Heart

34. A Worthy Heart

EINARR FJERSTÄD

I need a kingdom.

Calla's words lingered in Einarr's mind long after their encounter in the Alphas' dome.

When she first declared them, Einarr paused. He pulled his head back to properly gauge her reaction– to evaluate the sincerity of her words. Hours later, the memory of her pale blue eyes, fierce and intentional, remained at the forefront of his thoughts. She truly wanted this... a kingdom.

At the time, surprised and unsure, Einarr huffed a gentle laugh and kissed the tip of her nose. "The Onyx Craven is not enough for you, drekihjar?" he teased.

Calla responded with her own, uneasy chuckle and shook her head. "It is not a matter of wanting more than the Onyx Craven," she explained, shifting her hips up to rock their joined bodies once more.

Einarr groaned. He'd half-forgotten that he was sheathed in his mate's little body, but he wouldn't let her distract him. He prompted her to continue. "Why, then?"

"Freedom," Calla whispered, stroking his cheek with her unfathomably delicate hands. "My people – the humans – deserve freedom. If you were to take your place as Alpha King–"

Einarr immediately retracted, lurching his head out of her gentle grasp. Calla's words were treasonous – enough to warrant the entire slaughter of the Onyx Craven Pack if Rangvald caught word of it. He would hear no more of it.

"Enough, drekihjar," Einarr growled, simultaneously slipping his arousal from her warm walls.

"Einarr," Calla whimpered and tried to pull him back down, but he'd already knelt away from her body. She reached a hand into the space that now separated their bodies.

Every ounce of Einarr's being protested at the sudden loss of Calla's nearness, but he hardened his resolve. He shook his head, his jaw tight as he readjusted himself in his trousers. "I do not have a claim to Nortend, Calla."

Calla's brows furrowed as she scrambled to her knees. "Yes, you do. Cyril told me many moons ago. You share blood with the Alpha King. There are many across the continent who believe in your claim."

"You know not of what you speak," Einarr grumbled, rising to his feet and turning away from Calla.

She didn't let him get far. She leapt to her feet and followed, wrapping her hands around one of his wrists and tugging him back. Einarr felt his patience wearing thin, but he obliged and turned back to face his mate.

"Do not lie to me, Einarr," she demanded, every word dripping with desperate ferocity. "You know that there are many who would follow you."

Einarr growled his frustration, but he would not try to refute Calla's words. He wouldn't lie to her.

Since his youth, Einarr heard whispers regarding his cousin's succession. Their grandsire ruled Nortend as Alpha King for countless seasons. Their grandsire's mate bore two sons who shared a womb. Einarr and Rangvald's fathers died in battle, long before one or the other could take place as Alpha King, but not before each sired a successor: Einarr and Rangvald. As the eldest cousin, Rangvald took their grandsire's place as Alpha King upon his death, and Einarr did not bother to challenge him.

But many packs throughout Nortend believed that he should have. Many packs recognized the mercy that Einarr granted his cousin by refusing to challenge...

"Rangvald would not be fool enough to face me in a challenge," Einarr grumbled, not allowing his eyes to wander down the length of Calla's still-naked body. "You speak of war."