But the adrenalin surge that the strange howl had elicited, and the disquiet she felt from her last encounter with Byron Carstairs, meant that sleep was far away. She lay on the goose-down layered mattress, surrounded by fine linen sheets and warm woollen blankets, and couldn’t make her body relax, for all the comfort. What had made that unearthly noise? It was like nothing she had ever heard before. No dog or wolf she had ever heard had howled that way. But if not an animal, then what could make such a sound? And what of the man: What was he hiding with all those veiled warnings of dire consequences, if she entered the Keep this night, or later, if she left her room? There was purpose to it, she was sure. Was he trying to drive her away because she was the heir to this pile of stones, and he was next in line to inherit if she didn't fulfil her three month stipulation? Or was he really trying to protect her from something; something that had a howl that made the hairs on her arms stand on end?
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