Blake knelt down by the curtain. Reller could only see half his face in the firelight. The Lord did not look unkind, but Reller was wary.

“Come out and sit by the hearth,” Blake coaxed in a soft voice, “We are safe here. I will have the servant bring something hot to eat.”

The glass window behind Reller was cold, and it was as tall as the ceiling. Sitting by the fire would be better than standing next to the glass. Reller did not want anyone to see him from the darkness outside, and the fire looked inviting. The little boy pushed aside the heavy fabric and walked quickly to warm his hands.

“There, much better. You must stay well for when you go home.” Blake praised.

Reller perked up at the mention of home. “When are we going?”

A big hand tousled his hair. “Not until tomorrow.”

The man had the voice of the black wolf, but he looked different. So much happened in the past few days Reller hardly knew what to think.

“Will you sing to me, like my father?”

Blake smiled, “Yes, little cub. I know many songs.”