The White Wolf (Half-Breed Book 1) Read Free Page B

brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. It was then he noticed something that he hadn't noticed until she stepped further into the dim candle light of the dungeon. The woman's ears were pointed, an unmistakeable feature of an elf.
    “You're an elf? I thought your people were sealed off from the world, into their domain,” Varg pressed.
    The woman ignored his question and continued to glare at him. “What do you want with me?”
    Varg brushed aside his curiosity and remembered his current objective. “I need to talk to you.”
    “I have nothing to say to you,” the elf spat.
    “If you value your freedom, you should tell me what happened,” Varg said.
    The elf scoffed. “Don't you think you should have asked me all this before you had me arrested and charged with kidnapping and murder? Why should I trust you?”
    “What choice do you have?” Varg pointed out.
    The elf sighed and said, “Fine, what do you want to know?”
    “First, can you tell me your name?” Varg asked.
    “Why do you care?” the elf asked.
    “Forgive my curiosity,” the hunter replied, “but in all my years I have never met an elf. I've only heard tales and rumors about how the elves used powerful magic to seal their kingdom off from the outside world many centuries ago. How is it you've come to leave your people behind?”
    “I don't consider those wretches my people,” she spat. “Besides, I am only half-elf.”
    Varg paused briefly and pondered what she'd just said. He gave her a slight smile and muttered, “Small world, this is.”
    “What are you talking about?” the half-elf said with a sigh.
    “I mean that I'm just like you,” Varg said. “I'm a half-breed.”
    The half-elf stared at him as if she expected him to be making a cruel joke. Then she replied, “You are?”
    “Aye, and I don't tell you this simply for your cooperation. I know all to well the isolation that comes with being a half-blood. My father's kind has been extinct for some time,” Varg said. “He was a jotun.”
    “A jotun? You mean the fabled men of ice said to have inhabited the Northern Continent?”
    “They were hardly fable, obviously,” Varg said, “but yes, though they were more commonly known as frost giants. They weren't really giant, mind you, but they were much taller than human men.”
    The half-elf grew quiet, as if she were trying to decide whether or not she believed what Varg was saying. He began to fear that he would never gain her trust until he finally heard her utter, “Milea.”
    Varg looked her in the eyes and said, “What was that?”
    “My name is Milea,” she repeated.
    Varg smiled and placed a hand on one of the cell bars, then said, “That's a much more fitting name. In case you were wondering, my name is Varg.”
    “All right Varg,” Milea said softly, “what do you want to know?”
    “To start, what were you doing in that cave next to Lionel's body?” Varg asked.
    Milea began to pace again. “I came to town in search of work and was hired by a man from the town to clear the cave of a wolf infestation. I'm a hunter by trade, and sometimes I clear infestations of pests and monsters. The man said that the wolves were becoming quite a problem for Rivershire, so he asked me to complete the task immediately and offered a generous reward.”
    Varg remembered the dead wolf he'd found in the cave, then said, “Go on.”
    “I didn't find many wolves,” Milea said, “but I was told the nest would probably be further back into the mine. Then I discovered that body just before you discovered me.”
    “What about the Count's coin pouch I found in your satchel?” Varg asked.
    “I received that as a down payment for my services. At the time I thought this was a good deal, but now I know that it was a ploy to frame me for the crime,” Milea said.
    Varg stroked the short hair on his chin and asked, “Who was this man?”
    “He didn't give his name, just that he was a local miner,” Milea replied.
    “What about the