His gaze shifted back to the werewolf princess. The sight of her there, pale against the dark sheets, brought the coldness back into his expression.
It was only the sound of the wind at the open window and her breathing remained, and so he stood there for a long moment, watching her. Then, almost against his own nature, he reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair away from her damp forehead. Her temperature had dropped, he thought.
Vaeron lingered for a moment, and without another word, he withdrew, rising fully on his feet. And with one last look at the unconscious woman, he silently left the room.
Stepping out of his chamber into the pale wash of daylight, snow light filtered through the narrow windows, casting long, thin shadows along the stone corridor. The castle should have been quiet at this hour… but it wasn't.
