SIGRUN
Breakfast was over, and I had no choice but to take the Alpha up on his offer.
He didn’t offer his arm. He didn’t look back at me. But he was hyper-aware of my presence; I could tell by the rigid, deliberate set of his shoulders and the way he subtly adjusted his usual massive stride so I wouldn't have to jog to keep pace.
Every time a servant or a guard passed us, bowing deeply against the masonry to clear the path, Varul’s head would tilt ever so slightly toward my side of the hallway, a silent, protective shield.
"The texts are kept in the west wing," Varul said, his deep, gravelly voice cutting through the quiet of the vaulted corridor. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead. "Isolated from the main barracks and the central courtyard. There is less risk of fire, and fewer id
