Layla Whispercrest
Before I could ask more, one of the doors swung open and someone stepped towards us from the shadows of the corridor.
“Luna Layla, Sophia,” came the deep baritone of a familiar voice. “Are you both alright?” he asked.
“Harald,” I breathed out a sigh of relief mixed with curiosity. “Where have you been? Sophia was almost killed.” I didn't want to query him but I found myself doing that.
I noticed his hair was tousled, and his jaw was sharp and clenched tightly. His hand rested instinctively on the hilt of his blade.
“I heard the scream too,” he said as his eyes darted between us. “But someone had locked me away from entering the pack house, I tried all I could but was only able to get here now,” he explained, with his features laced in apology.
I eyed him, he proba
