Chapter 3 Inn

The wedding of Rita and Julius Blackwood of the causeway was arranged. To her frustration, her opinion was not heard, it being given no importance in this political marriage. She received the news without any prior discussion.

Isn't Julius Blackwood a faithful hero of Heartgate? The best expression from the royal family is you, Indeed!

I told you that your body belongs to the royal family. This is a duty a royal princess must bear.

This is for the sake of Heartgate

Words that were supposed to comfort her further fueled her ire. To tie her to her duties, people started whispering to her ears, gauging her to submit to the royal decree. Julius Blackwood won't want a hesitant wife, after all!

Upon finding out that her existence was only for the sole purpose of gearing up a beneficial treaty, she felt despair, and as soon as the immeasurable sorrow left her, anger took its place.

As her gaze raked over the official document notifying her of her union with Julius Blackwood, she had made up her mind. She decided to leave a long lasting disgrace to the royal family of Heartgate, even if it meant an untimely death for her.

As she refused to resign to the fate of the royal family painted for her, a wicked plan started to take its course.

Tonight, she will have an overnight company. The royal family would then be accused of giving a deflowered bride to the high and mighty Julius.

For a moment, as her decision took precedence, she held her breath, her fingertips trembled badly as fear slowly crept in... Her hair stood on ends and leg slightly wobbled.

However, this slip of vulnerability quickly faded; her determination remained undamped.

The night was young. Rita bit her lower lips tightly and continued to grace the streets shrouded in darkness and obscenity.

Drunk people walked in faltering steps underneath the lit lamp that hung between old buildings. Giggles sounded as vulgar, filthy jokes delivered in boisterous tones were spoken.

Rita squeezed her cloak tight around her body. After she carefully checked each establishment that she passed by, she finally found her target place- it was a shabby inn which looked like it would collapse anytime soon.

The knob felt cold under her palm as she hesitantly pushed the wooden door open.

The inn was already full of tipsy, intoxicated people. Naturally, she attracted some attention upon her entrance. But soon, few of those who turned their gaze to Rita lost interest in her and they continued chattering among themselves.

Before coming here, she already made arrangements. Her company would be seated in the most concealed corner of this establishment, wearing a dark ensemble for the sake of discretion.

Her gaze darted to every nook and cranny of the place and it was not long until a man donning a dark cloak in an inconspicuous corner caught her very attention. He was buried in the shadows away from the bustle and hustle. At a quick glance the man seemed to blend in darkness-the shadow and him merging into one body difficult to differentiate.

Rita slowly started to draw nearer to the mysterious man. Upon reaching him she tapped the table where the man was seated and instantly, the lone hand that held the wine glass froze in mid air.

His hands, wrapped in leather gloves, were so big the glass it held looked like a mere toy.

"Are you my company tonight?" She asked boldly.

An agonizing second passed. The man's lips only parted before he uttered, "it seems so..."

It was a low and strong voice that seemed to scratch from his inside. Rita blinked hard. She heard that men of such pitch are gentle and beautiful.

But his voice that reverberated in her ear was different from what she had imagined. Though suddenly surprised, she soon pulled herself from her musings. Anyway, once things are done right, this will soon be over.

"Follow me" The man directed to which she subserviently nodded in return. He soon led her to a flight of stairs heading to the second floor of the building.

The wooden stairs creaked with her every step. After passing through a long hallway, they entered a room at its most end. The man opened the door for her and let her inside first.

Surprisingly, the renter room was the best one in the inn. Heavy draperies and cozy furniture, if anything, it looked romantic and deserving of couples wanting their first night to be memorable. Such a waste though, for this night was never intended for romance. But rather, she came here with a clear agenda.

Entering the room after her, the man closed and bolted the door. Its clicking sound sounded like a death sentence to Rita.

There is no going back now...

Mustering courage, she turned around and faced the man. As she did so, she drew a sharp intake of breath.

"...!"

A while ago, the man sat in the shadows and slouched low by the time he stood up, making Rita miss his towering height. Now, facing him in all his glory, an ample height difference between Rita and his chin was hard to ignore. Despite the dim light in the room, she could barely see his broad shoulders and strong physique.

She was candidly embarrassed by the stark contrast in their frames. The man must have noticed as his lips slowly twisted to a faint smile. He loosely threw his heavy cloak with one hand, revealing his face.

What welcomed her was a healthy looking bronze skin, dark brown hair, and dull yet fierce eyes.

In the dark, his piercing golden eyes remained clear and bright, reflecting the wildness of a beast.

Though angular, his features were brutally beautiful. Filled by an overwhelming fascination for this man, she unabashedly fixed her curious gaze on him.

Rita's heart raced. Her throat dried as a realization hit her.

That man was not human.

"...Wolfian?" She muttered unconsciously to herself. Her mouth trembled so slightly as this taboo word was spewed carelessly. Dark skin, huge physique and golden clear eyes with intensely colored pupils were the special characteristics of a wolfian.

He raised his eyebrow and coolly conceded.

"It's been a long time a person has called me wolfian. Nowadays we are normally called savages." He said, slurring the last word.