His Betrothal

Clara

I saw all that I wanted to see. As quietly as I dared, I crawled back through the passageway. Once I was sure I was far enough from the room, I scrambled as fast as I could to the exit. I felt the tile with my hands, slid it open, and I leaped out of the exit. I bumped directly into another werewolf.

“Sorry,” I gasped. My heart still pounded from what I had just heard. I stared at the werewolf who eyed me critically.

It was the werewolf who called me a country bumpkin from Bragne. He was younger and shorter than me, but I could see that he had a lean strength in his body. His silver hair matched the color of his pale eyes, and he dressed in simple violet leather. A black cloak covered his head. I noticed the color of his darker skin, and I wondered if he was a Northerner.

He glanced at me and the passageway I just came out of. “How did you know about this place?” he asked. His voice was surprisingly steady, and I wondered if he was angry or not.

I didn’t know if I was supposed t