To Rule the Alpha's Heart

32. The Salt Caves (Part 2)

"I am, thank you..." Calla replied, painting a friendly smile on her lips. "Is there something you need, Idoneah?"

The female dipped her head, her silky braid slipping over her shoulder. "Alpha order me to guard you in city, Luna. He does not return until evening."

Calla frowned. She hadn't realized that Einarr would be away for so long, but she wouldn't let his absence prevent her from exploring the holy site.

"That is kind of you," Calla murmured, her gaze shifting between Idoneah and Cyril, who walked on her other side. "I hoped to visit the Salt Caves this evening, if possible?"

Cyril placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her around a boulder where some of the Onyx Craven pack members were beginning to set up their camp at the edge of the city. His touch disappeared as soon as Calla navigated around the rock. "To reach the Salt Caves, we will need to pass through streets occupied by other packs, Calla. Perhaps you should wait until Einarr can accompany you?"

"You said so yourself that violence is strictly prohibited because of the Salt Caves' holiness," Calla countered. She tucked a strand of blonde behind her ear and offered her worried translator a soft, reassuring smile. "Besides, Idoneah will guard me."

The dark-haired beauty dipped her head again, obedient. "With my life, Luna."

Calla's smile grew. "Then it's settled. Idoneah and I will explore the Salt Caves. Cyril, accompany us if you wish, but I understand if you prefer to wait for a larger escort."

Cyril frowned at the underlying challenge in her words, his pale blue eyes hardening. Calla thought she saw his hands tightening into fists at his sides before he answered, stoic. "Where you go, I go."

She nodded. She'd expected as much – knew that Cyril would not leave her to explore an unknown city by herself. Perhaps it was wrong of her to take advantage of his absolute devotion. Perhaps she should have heeded his advice... But she couldn't ignore the incessant tug in her chest, willing her forward. Willing her to the Salt Caves.

"Come," Idoneah instructed, gesturing toward the dirt road that led straight through a maze of tents and shifters. "We leave now to return by sun down."

Flanked by Cyril, Calla followed a few steps behind the warrior female. Lucia and Iva stayed behind to help construct the pack's camp. She kept her eyes peeled as they traveled the well-trodden road that would lead to the base of the mountain and the mouth of the Salt Caves.

Tents lined the dirt road. Some housed shifters belonging to other packs. Others contained merchant wares, such as wood-carved, beaded jewelry or stones plucked from the Salt Caves themselves. Merchants barked offers in the Nortend tongue to passersby, and Calla couldn't help from peer at every tent, even as Idoneah continued onward.

Idoneah's steps did not falter. She only ever paused to murmur the name of a new pack's camp that they passed through. Crimsonhide. Sun Walker. Calla memorized each pack name and made a mental note to ask Einarr about them that evening.

They'd only reached the half-way point to the Salt Caves when a violent scream tore through the city.

A sudden crowd formed on the dirt road, blocking their path, and another heart wrenching screech pierced the city's peace, closer this time. Calla's eyes flared wide and she took an instinctive step closer to Cyril.

"What is happening?" Calla demanded, as Idoneah came to a slow halt.

She emitted a low grumble of annoyance, eyes narrowing as she stood on her toes to peer above the surrounding crowd's heads toward whatever – or, whoever– they circled. A frown etched on her lips, but she answered with nonchalance, "A slave receiving punishment, Luna. We go around."