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Last Night.
Wyfkeep Castle, Wyfellon.
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Last night Alaric waited until Salviana had drifted into a deep sleep, her breath steady and warm against his chest before he decided to leave but he lay still, watching her with an unusual softness, reluctant to leave her side.
But tonight was a night he could not ignore his other responsibilities.
Silently, he slipped from the bed, threw on his gloves, and slipped into the night.
The wind was brisk, slicing through the air as he moved with supernatural speed, each stride carrying him effortlessly toward the seediest quarters of the city.
His destination was an inn on the dark side of town, cloaked in shadows where dubious figures prowled, and grim deeds went unnoticed.
