Roman crept along the side of the Main Pack House, the lights low, voices muted. The rear of the building was dark, and just above his head a balcony door was cracked open. He caught the scent of some witches they were just probably overhead. They might be busy helping the healers with their patients. There was no sign of The Witch King anywhere, so he must be out dealing with the humans at the gates.
Roman took one last look around the darkened exterior of the cabin, then leapt up, his claws catching the railing. He pulled himself over, and crouched on all fours before creeping across the balcony to the door. He listened, hearing the slow steady beat of hearts, and the sound of someone whispering.
“Sir…” the voice cut out, the whisper drowned out by the wind. The storm was still very m
