Several hours passed, and most of Tilsoul had fallen fast asleep.
Henry's room was barely larger than a servant's quarters in the castle, and the bed was too small to accommodate his tall frame comfortably. He had been fast asleep when an overpowering urge suddenly dragged him out of his slumber.
His eyes snapped open, bloodshot and clouded with hunger. His skin had grown pale, and his throat felt unbearably dry. Slowly, he pushed himself off the bed, allowing his bare feet to meet the cold wooden floor before rising to his feet.
The sound of two heartbeats filled his senses, drawing his attention beyond the walls of his room. His hands curled into fists as he struggled against the hunger gnawing at him, but the longer he listened, the harder it became to resist. He quickened his pace towards the door, carefully turned the handle, and slipped outside, closing it quietly behind him.
