To Rule the Alpha's Heart

8. Touched by a Savage

CALLA VORONÍN

Calla turned on her heel, eager to put as much distance between herself and Alpha Einarr for the time being.

She did not dare to dwell on the fact that, in a matter of hours, she'd be forced to join him. If she thought about her predicament too much, her fear would best her, and she might turn her own back on the agreement they'd struck.

She carefully navigated the longship's deck, steering clear of the shifters that communed with one another. Calla knew that the Alpha's men watched her as she passed. She could feel their eyes burning into her back– could hear their whispers.

And she was all too aware of the Alpha's loyal dog– Cyril– following closely behind her. She glared over her shoulder at the blonde human. "You needn't follow me, traitor. I won't throw myself over the side of the ship."

Cyril ignored her jab. Rather, he pressed a gentle hand to the small of Calla's back to guide her past a trio of laughing men. She stiffened at his touch.

"You have a kind heart, Luna," he murmured. "Not many people would act so selflessly."

Calla frowned, stepping to the side to avoid the last group of feasting werewolves. Before she rejoined the group of four women that she'd come to befriend, she turned to face Cyril. "Yes, I am not like you. I do not betray my own people."

Something like regret flashed in Cyril's blue eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He lowered his head, as if bowing in submission to her. The sight unnerved Calla as much as it empowered her, but a pang of pity pierced through her. In truth, Cyril had been kind to Calla for the past two days aboard the longship. He'd answered her questions and ensured that she was properly fed and cared for throughout the long days.

Heart still pounding from her encounter with Einarr, Calla turned away from Cyril and approached her friends once more.

Worry clouded the gaze of each of Calla's friends. Young Lucia sat up on her knees, stretching her arms outward to receive Calla in a hug as she squeaked, "What did you say to him?"

Calla wrapped her arms around the girl, stroking a piece of mousy brown hair behind her ear. She swallowed the fear that threatened to choke her and mustered confidence in her gaze as she turned to the other three women. "I've made an arrangement with him."

Vilma, the widow, leaned forward, her brow furrowed in concern. "What sort of arrangement, Calla?"

She took a deep breath, forcing a smile on her lips. "I've secured safe, comfortable lodgings for the four of you. You'll stay in the Alpha's cabin during the storm tonight. And for the remainder of the trip."

"Truly?!" Lucia exclaimed, wrapping her arms tighter around Calla's waist. "Oh, thank you, Calla!"

Little Lucia's excitement brought her some comfort, but Calla's stomach still twisted at the thought of the fate that awaited her that evening. She risked a glance at Vilma and Ester, who did not seem to share Lucia's happiness.

"What of you?" Ester murmured, a little wrinkle forming between her brows. "Where will you sleep?"

Calla's smile faltered, but she took another deep breath and prayed that her voice would not waver as she replied. "I'll be staying with Alpha Einarr on the deck."

Even as she spoke the words out loud, a wave of nausea rolled up her throat, and, as soon as the admission left her tongue, her friends recoiled. Ester gasped, and Iva, the deaf woman who had traced her name repeatedly into Calla's hand to introduce herself, even hissed.